Winter night. Old town.
A road extends from the black end, through the town, and then to the black end.
The street lights on the wooden poles in the street are lit dimly. The night was deep, and there were no pedestrians on the road. The bleak northwest wind gave a whispering roar, scraping scraps of paper from the ground and flying around, like a dancing ghost in the dim, bleak lights. In this dancing piece of paper, there are several words that read “Emperor Emperor, Emperor Di, there is a crying night at my house, the gentleman passing by reads it again, and sleeps until dawn”. This is the “Soul Soul Paper” posted by A Sipo during the day. Her little granddaughter cried every night. She believed the words “Xiu Ban Xian”, and put a lot of Soul Scream on the pole and on the wall. Because the rice soup with “Soul Soul Paper” was not thick enough, the wind rose at night and flew up when it was blown by the wind.
At this time, A Sipo is holding her crying little granddaughter, walking back and forth in her house facing the street, shaking, and whispering in her mouth: come back Ah, come back. Cold wind squeezed in from the door of the house, and wanted to warm up his cold, but its arrival made the room even colder. A Sipo tightly wrapped her granddaughter’s quilt. The granddaughter was still crying, and A Sipo continued to shout, shake, and walk. The cry of the child seemed to be the wailing of the wolf from the nest in the dark and deserted night, and the neighbors left and right did not live in peace. Then there was the coughing of the old man, the sound of the night-time man pissing urine into the toilet, the laughter, the complaint, and the sigh between the husband and wife affecting each other, making it impossible to sleep on a street. The child usually cried at night, but not as long and sad as tonight.
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The night continues to be dark, the lights continue to dim, and the white sheets of paper continue to dance. Suddenly, the child’s crying stopped. The neighbor next to A Sipo’s family didn’t hear the child’s crying, and stopped moving. When the infection spread to a street, the movement stopped. Sudden silence makes people unaccustomed to it, and anticipates what will happen. At this time, the sound of knocking gong came from the end of the road, and the low shout of a man who copied Sichuan accent spread from ear to ear: “Avoid it, borrow it, the ghost is going home Oh”. There was a dead silence on the street, only the bleating northwest wind, resonating with the sound of gongs and Sichuan accents, and the atmosphere of the people in the houses on the street dared not come out. There was only a 4-year-old boy who was lying on the door and looking out. In the dim light, behind the gong knocker, a team of zombies followed, there were more than a dozen, men and women, and a child, and a hemp rope was tied around his waist. The body of the corpse is different, but there is a piece of yellow paper on the forehead. The wind lifts the yellow paper from time to time, and you can see the appearance of the dead man. The feet of the corpse were close together and moved forward hop by hop. There was a piece of flying white paper with words written on it, that is, the paper of the shouting soul posted by A Sipo during the day, which was blown by the wind on the face of the child’s body and stuck, and the little boy looked very interesting. Just call grandma, come and see, A Sipo is holding her little son who is no longer crying in panic