Extra Chapter: My First Meeting with Little Shen Laoye (3)
The broom swept across the bluestone slabs of the Naihe Bridge, bringing up a cloud of fine gray mist.
Shen Qing waved his arms intermittently, his eyes drifting towards the roiling Styx in the distance.
The black river water was foamy, with scattered paper money floating on the surface, swirling in the cold wind.
Like countless pale hands struggling on the water.
He suddenly remembered the black fog he saw in the open space that day.
The thick fog made no human figures or sounds.
It just circled the throne three times, and the cold wind it stirred up almost knocked everyone to the ground.
The pressure from the black fog was like a real boulder, pressing down on his spine and making it creak.
Even after the fog cleared, the back of his neck was still too stiff to turn.
"Honorable God"?
Shen Qing pouted and poked the paper ashes on the ground with the tip of the broom.
It seemed like he was deliberately putting on airs and refused to even show his face.
Behind me came the clinking sound of Meng Po's soup bowls.
He glanced back and saw the ghosts in line moving forward expressionlessly.
Each ghost who took the bowl of soup mechanically raised his head to drink it, then walked onto the bridge with a blank expression.
The bluestone slabs under my feet made a creaking sound.
Shen Qingze's eyes fell on the tattered clothes on his body.
The dirt on the fabric had hardened and gave off a sour smell mixed with mold and sweat.
"They also provide single rooms..."
He scoffed quietly, the broom handle shaking in his grip.
-------
When he was taken back to the cell by the Black and White Impermanence that day, he was stunned for a long while——
In the palm-sized stone house, there was only a hard bed covered with straw.
There was sticky black water seeping from the corners of the wall, but it was indeed a room for each person.
The straw scratched his body and caused tiny pains. Shen Qing stared at the water droplets seeping down from the cell ceiling.
Watch it meander along the stone wall, forming a small sticky puddle in the corner.
His vague shadow was reflected in the puddle, his thin shoulders were wrapped in rags, and his hair was messy like a bunch of dry grass.
This is what he looks like now, a "felon" who was abducted to the underworld.
He suddenly sneered, raised his hand and touched the talisman on his wrist.
The golden light was dimmer than during the day, like a dying candle flame, but still burning stubbornly.
The ghost said "neither birth nor death". Does that mean he wants to trap people in this tiny space and count water drops day after day?
He thought of the small courtyard in the mortal world, where the old master always loved to take a nap under the grape trellis, fanning himself with a palm-leaf fan.
The sunlight shone through the leaves onto his gray hair, warm like melted honey.
But here, there is only a chill that never goes away, and even the breath smells like rust.
I don't know when the black water in the corner of the wall has reached my feet, and the cold touch is creeping up my trouser legs.
Shen Qing curled up his toes and suddenly remembered the ghost of the old woman he saw during the day.
Her tears that fell to the ground condensed into ice particles, which made a crackling sound when stepped on.
It was very similar to the feeling of the master's clenched hand slowly turning cold before he died.
His heart suddenly shrank, and he closed his eyes tightly.
The ghost said that he could see the master, but it has been so many days and I haven’t seen the master’s soul or even a familiar ghost.
"fraud."
He cursed in a low voice to the empty cell.
The sound hit the stone wall and bounced back with a hint of sob.
He had never trusted many people in his life. The only master he trusted wholeheartedly was gone.
I finally believed in him again, but was led to a place like this.
Shen Qing grabbed a handful of straw and threw it against the wall.
Grass debris flew everywhere and fell into the puddles, creating ripples.
The talisman on his wrist suddenly felt hot, as if reminding him of something.
Shen Qingze looked down at the golden light, and suddenly remembered the torture chamber he passed by when the Black and White Impermanence escorted him here.
The chains hanging on the iron frame were still shaking, and the torture instruments piled in the corner were shining coldly.
One of the toothed pliers reminded him of the storyteller's story of "skinning and stuffing".
A chill suddenly ran down his back, and he shrank back into the straw, with his knees resting against his chin.
The ghosts looked at him as if he were meat on a chopping board.
Maybe one day he will be dragged away to experience the torture instruments.
In the distance, there were the sounds of patrolling ghosts and the clattering of chains dragging on the ground.
Shen Qing immediately held his breath and pressed himself against the cold stone wall.
The footsteps paused for a moment outside the cell. He could even smell the rotten smell on the ghost.
My heart was beating so fast in my chest that it felt like it was going to explode!
Only when the footsteps faded away did he dare to breathe deeply, a layer of cold sweat already breaking out on his forehead.
What are the rules of this underworld?
Is single-occupancy cell a privilege or another form of surveillance?
Countless questions swirled in Shen Qingze's mind, but he couldn't find the answers.
He could only curl up in the straw, listening to his own heartbeat echoing in the empty cell.
It's like counting down for the judgment that will come at an unknown time.
In the darkness, the golden light of the spell flickered.
Shen Qing stared at the light and suddenly had a ridiculous idea -
Maybe I have to survive this damn "labor reform" first before I have a chance to find a master.
Even if there is only a one in ten thousand chance, he has to survive.
He lay back down on the straw and wrapped himself more tightly around himself.
I have to save some energy to deal with those ghost messengers.
It's just this tattered dress...
He frowned and tugged at his collar.
I have to stay away from water tomorrow. If I get wet again, I will be so smelly that I can’t face anyone.
Shen Qing closed his eyes and suppressed all those messy thoughts——
Go to sleep first and talk when you wake up.
"Get up! Get up now!"
The cold river water dripped down the ends of his hair, and Shen Qing suddenly came back to his senses——
Another bucket of cold water.
The bucket of water that was poured on him yesterday to wake him up had the fishy smell of river mud, but today the bucket smelled of rust, which made his throat itchy.
He wiped his face, looked at the indifferent faces of the ghost messengers in the distance, and cursed in his heart:
Can't you find another way to wake people up?
He lowered his head and tugged at his collar, the fabric rubbing against his skin and causing pain.
If you continue like this, you will be marinated by these clothes before you are punished.
-----
The broom swept across a jade pendant dropped by a ghost. The jade pendant rolled twice on the stone slab, revealing the words "peace" engraved on it.
Shen Qing bent down to pick it up.
As soon as his fingertips touched the jade pendant, it turned into a wisp of green smoke and dissipated.
He raised an eyebrow and continued to wave his broom, his eyes aimlessly sweeping over the ghosts in line.
The ghost of the old woman at the end of the line always wiped away tears secretly, and her turbid tears fell to the ground and instantly condensed into ice particles;
The female ghost in red tightly grasped the corner of her clothes, her lips pressed into a straight line, and her hands were shaking as she took the bowl of soup;
There is also a ghost of a child about seven or eight years old, standing on tiptoe and looking towards the other end of the bridge, as if looking for someone.
There was a kind of dazed sadness on their faces, like puppets with their souls taken away.
Shen Qingze suddenly felt bored.
This Naihe Bridge is exactly the same as the one described by the storyteller.
After drinking the soup and crossing the bridge, all the past was wiped out.
But what about yourself?
I didn't drink Meng Po soup, and I didn't forget the past.
But he was trapped in this hellish place sweeping the floors and didn't even see the shadow of his master.
He swept vigorously, and the gray mist raised by the broom made him cough, causing Meng Po beside him to glance at him coldly.
Shen Qing shrugged, turned around and continued sweeping the floor in the direction of the Styx.
No matter what gods or tortures he has,
Let’s clean up this broken bridge first.
At least... you're still alive now, right?
Although this taste of "being alive"
Not really good...
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
