There are ghosts and ghosts in the heavy rain.

Zhao Wujiang walked through and walked towards the depths of Youdu.

Xie Bian did not want to believe the death of his daughter Su Su and his disciple Dong Ning, and always lived with the obsession that they were still alive.

Although Dong Ning died, his obsession persisted after his death. He wanted to retrieve the remnant soul of his deceased wife and protect his deceased wife.

So there was Dong Ning, an infatuated scholar, and Ye Qianchun, a powerful man.

Zhao Wujiang didn't know what Xie Bian would do when he woke up after learning the truth again.

Should he continue to fall into obsession and not want to believe it, escorting Dong Ning's soul to find Xie Chensu's remnant soul over and over again, or should he wake up completely and accept the reality.

Everyone has their own choice. He, Zhao Wujiang, was just a passerby who came across this story by accident or by chance.

He is not a person in the story, so there is no need to stay in the story.

All he wanted to do now was to ladle up big, big ladles of water from the Forgotten River to prepare for the warmth and nourishment of his soul in the future.

The rain is getting heavier.

The cold rain slapped randomly on his face.

The coldness penetrated his bones, and was evaporated by the heat of his mind.

He kind of liked the feeling of being soaked all over, with the rain running through his body, as if all the heaviness and depression would flow to the ground along with the rain.

After nearly an hour, the rain gradually stopped.

He walked through the streets and alleys, through the rain and fog and the gray fog in Youdu, and came to a river.

The river is clear and green, and there is a wooden bridge on the water connecting the other side.

Not far from the bridge, there is a bluestone slab with moss-stained bottom.

Zhao Wujiang narrowed his eyes slightly and touched his chin. As expected, this bridge should be the Naihe Bridge, and this stone slab should be the Sansheng Stone, right?

He understood this, after all, the ghost novels or myths and legends he had read all described Youdu in this way.

What about Wangchuan, Huangquan, Naihe Bridge, Sansheng Stone...

Zhao Wujiang slowly approached the bluestone slab by the river, squatted down, and carefully observed the lines of the bluestone slab.

There are many potholes and ravines.

"As expected of the Three Lives Stone, it should symbolize that a person's life is not always smooth sailing and there is no smooth road." Zhao Wujiang shook his head and sighed:

"The moss around the stone slabs should be a metaphor for the past memories that gradually become mottled and foggy during a person's life, making them unclear."

"Whose silly boy? This is a washing stone." A kind and fierce voice came from behind Zhao Wujiang.

He looked back and saw an old woman with silver hair wearing gray clothes and a floral apron, holding a wooden basin in her hand.

The old woman looked at Zhao Wujiang with a caring look:

"You young people are full of random thoughts every day, get out of the way."

Zhao Wujiang's expression froze and he turned sideways.

The old woman placed the wooden basin on the stone slab, squatted down, took out a long black needle three inches thick and as thick as a thumb from the wooden basin, and began to grind it on the stone slab.

She glanced at Zhao Wujiang:

"Silly boy, do you know what this is?"

Zhao Wujiang rolled his eyes. He did not feel any fluctuations in the cultivation of the old woman in front of him.

But he clearly understands one of the current rules in Youdu, that is, if you look extremely awake and can speak normally, the probability should not be underestimated, and your strength should be pretty good.

He glanced at the black needles that were constantly being ground, clasped his fists and said solemnly:

"Senior, I know.

You want to tell me the story of grinding an iron pestle into a needle.

As long as you work hard and grind the iron pestle into a needle, as long as your obsession is deep, there should be a day when it will resonate."

The old woman widened her old eyes, coughed dryly, and said in a bad mood:

"I want you to leave quickly.

Otherwise, when I finish grinding the soul-suppressing nail, I will stab you to death with one nail."

Zhao Wujiang took a few steps back in embarrassment. He felt that the old woman was not joking. He cupped his fists in greeting, jogged a few steps and stepped onto the bridge, preparing to go to the other side of the river.

The old woman sighed and continued to grind the soul-suppressing nail. The river under the bridge surged, and the heads of several water ghosts poked out, seemingly coveting the men crossing the bridge.

The old woman glared at them, and the water ghost dived into the water in fear and disappeared.
Chapter completed!