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Chapter Thirty

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    The nights in the band have always been extravagant, and when the dance is in full swing, a bunch of prodigal sons will scramble to throw gold, silver and jewels on the stage.

    When Wen Qian is not on stage, she has an exclusive seat in the corner. It is located in a dark place where the lights cannot reach. Usually, regular customers will not notice when she sits there.

    She took out the dice cup and shook it enthusiastically on the opposite side, while Yang Jin leaned in the armchair and poured wine.

    Not far from the next table were two middle-aged men dressed as businessmen. One of them looked gloomy and seemed not interested in singing and dancing, while the other poured wine for him patiently.

    "The woods on the outskirts of the city are haunted again." He sighed, "Yesterday evening, my food-carrying horse was frightened, and saw white rice spilled all over the ground!"

    The man said, "Has the mountain ghost caused trouble? Did it hurt anyone?"

    "It doesn't matter if the coachman got a little bit of injury, but he's so cowardly, he didn't dare to pick up the rice, so he ran back after pulling the cart!"

    The businessman wrinkled his facial features distressedly, took a sip of the wine, and felt as painful as if he drank a cup of Hedinghong whose throat was blocked with blood.

    The dice were running rampant in the ceramic cup, and stopped jingling.

    Wen Qian was not in a hurry to lift the lid, but instead put her hand on it and looked at Yang Jin with her elbow.

    Just as he brought the wine glass to his lips, when he saw her smile, he put it down again in puzzlement: "What?"

    "Look at you listening so engrossed, very interested?"

    "No." Yang Jin finished his drink, "Just listen to it."

    Wen Qian opened the dice cup, took out the dice and played with them between his fingers, "The three most famous things in Guangling City, the scenery of the Slender West Lake, the girl listening to the rain tower, and the mountain ghost in the locust tree forest."

    Yang Jin has heard of this.

    ? I remember that when I first arrived outside the city, I heard the waiter at the tea stand mention the haunting, and his expression was calm when he spoke, as if he was used to it.

    Wen Qian tilted her head and rested her chin, "Speaking of which, this mountain ghost still has a history."

    He asked naturally: "What is the origin?"

    With a chuckle, she threw the dice into the cup, and it immediately made a dripping sound.

    "It is said that hundreds of years ago, there was a mountain temple outside Guangling City. There lived a kind mountain god in the temple. He protected the people nearby and responded to every request. As long as someone came to make a wish, he would try his best to satisfy it.

    "Misfortunes, disasters, and marriages, the mountain gods seem to be very busy every day. During the day, people flock to the temple with the old and the young. But at night, when the temple gate is closed, the whole world will be quiet.  At this time, the mountain god sat alone on the steps in the courtyard watching the moon, waiting for the day to come.

    "The mountain god is very lonely. He has been in the temple for thousands of years, and he has always been alone."

    On the stage, a delicate-looking girl embraced a mahogany harp, bowed her head and plucked it. A slender harp sound overflowed from the hustle and bustle of the venue, bringing out a piece of leisure and tranquility, desolate and melodious.

    "Until one day, the mountain god rescued a wounded fawn.

    "The little deer is very spiritual. It seems to know the difficulty of the mountain god. It didn't leave after its injury recovered, but stayed in the temple to accompany him.

    "The mountain god had a companion, and he lived happily ever after. He prayed for the villagers during the day and played with his deer in the mountains at night.

    "It's like this day after day, year after year.

    "The world has ushered in a long-drought summer. God has not rained for several months. The farmland has no harvest, and there is famine everywhere in the south of the Yangtze River. People come to the temple to pray for the mountain god, but the mountain god is helpless. His mana  I am limited, and my ability is also limited. I have tried many methods and traveled to many places, but I am still at a loss.

    "There are more and more disaster victims, hunger and death everywhere, and the villagers complained. Some people began to accuse the mountain god, saying that there was a deer in his house, why didn't he take it out to solve the urgent need. This sentence echoed a hundred times, and the people were very angry. They felt that the mountain god was selfish and selfish.  Without doing anything, while he was out, they rushed into the temple and smashed it indiscriminately.

    "When the mountain god returned home, there was only a puddle of blood left on the ground, which was deer blood."

    For some reason, Yang Jin felt the wine in his mouth had a slight bitter taste, he frowned habitually, and raised his eyes to look at her.

    Wen Qian still rested his head on one hand, tilting his head, "He sat and sat in front of his statue for a long time, and suddenly, a voice in his ear asked him: What did you get for being so kind to them?"  Woolen cloth?

    "The mountain god was stunned. He pondered this sentence countless times, and finally, he had an epiphany."

    "Sheng Mien, Dou Michou" He shook his head and asked, "What happened after that?"?I have already guessed eight out of ten, and the city of Guangling, who loves to make such insidious tricks, is second to none, just like a gold-lettered signboard.

    The short man turned the knife around, "I advise you to struggle less, so as not to suffer more."

    This sudden kindness is somewhat contrary to the harmony of a cat crying for a mouse.  Wen Qian neither evaded nor evaded, but asked in a calm voice, "You two dare to come to the pagoda tree forest, haven't you heard of ghosts around here?"

    Mao Yueyue escaped from a mass of black shadows, half of her face was hidden in the shadows, and there was a trace of mystery in her calm brows.

    Even though they knew that Wen Qian was playing tricks, the two of them were still sweating coldly from this gloomy scene.

    She smiled slightly, "What if there really are ghosts in this forest?"

    The moment the voice fell, there seemed to be footsteps reverberating in the silent woods, heavy and slow, and there were small rustling sounds on the dry grass, getting closer and clearer.

    It was an inexplicably unsettling sound. The two hooligans held their weapons tightly and looked around anxiously.

    Suddenly, the sound stopped abruptly.

    Wen Qian raised her face under the dim moonlight, and behind her, a figure as tall as a mountain emerged.

    Because the moonlight can't reach the dark place, the whole body and appearance are dark and blurred, like the legendary goblin ghost, only the eyes with downcast eyes are exposed outside, without any emotion, watching silently  them.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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