"Clap your hands, find a friend, found a good friend, where is my good friend? Where is spring most beautiful? The swallow said, Amitabha..."
“A good friend!” A mad monk picked up a plaque from the ground.
“Two good friends!” He pushed open the door of a coffin shop.
"Three good friends!" He grabbed a paper effigy from the side and hugged it to his chest.
"Four good friends!" He carried the funeral banner out of the coffin shop.
“Five good friends!” A coffin was erected behind him.
"Let's all find our friends. How many good friends do we need?"
The paper figures in the coffin shop all followed behind him. Although the shop was small, the paper figures that came out filled the entire capital city.
Soon, the once deserted capital city became bustling with activity.
The empty streets were filled with people, yet they were also desolate, because these paper figures could not make any sound.
The coffin seemed to be controlled by someone; a monk walked in front, clapping his hands, and the coffin bounced behind him in rhythm with the monk.
One person, one coffin, one paper figure on the street—they live in harmony.
"I've found so many good friends, hahaha!" The monk jumped high in the air with joy, the coffin standing quietly behind him like a silent shadow.
"Where is spring? Spring is in the eyes of children!" The monk laughed as he ran, taking out the paper figure he had been carrying. Looking into the paper figure's eyes, he murmured, "It's not here, not in your eyes, not in your eyes..."
He looked at each paper figure one by one, searching for who knows how long. Finally, exhausted, he groaned as he walked to the coffin. "It's you, it must be your eyes, right?"
The coffin didn't move, nor did the monk. The man and the coffin stared at each other for a while, and then the monk suddenly laughed.
"Spring has arrived, the swallows are coming, the swallows are coming, one swallow, two swallows... a thousand swallows, a thousand swallows, it's a thousand swallows!"
As if struck by a sudden thought, he began to run frantically, the coffin following behind, the paper figures trailing behind, until finally, he reached the gates of the imperial city…
The monk was a mad monk; he would laugh one moment and cry the next, and he even started kowtowing to the wide-open palace gates.
"Kowtowing! Kowtowing! You must all kowtow like me!"
The paper figure tilted its head, stared at the monk for a while, silently accepted the suggestion, and knelt down as well.
The rustling sounds spread throughout the entire capital city; they were like the most devout believers in this imperial city, kneeling in worship of their former emperor.
"You've finished kneeling, now let's go inside and play!"
The monk ran inside, unaware that several paper figures, acting suspiciously, had also knelt down in the middle of the procession.
These paper figures were clearly new additions; their skin was still a normal white, unlike the paper figures from the coffin shop which had turned slightly yellow due to dampness.
"Master Uncle, that is the Buddha of Compassion and Joy," Qiao Yu told Shan Hongxing using her mental transmission technique.
As soon as he finished speaking, he noticed that several paper figures beside him had stopped moving. Startled, he had no choice but to pretend to remain still as well.
Fortunately, the paper figures only glanced at him a few more times before catching up with the main group. The later paper figures looked at him a few more times with strange eyes. Even though they were paper figures, Qiao Yu felt as if someone was really watching him.
“Third rank,” Shan Hongxing muttered.
A paper figure possesses the strength of a third-rank individual.
He wouldn't have believed it before; it was something easily accepted that a Xuan Master could have his own clone.
However, if a Xuan Master's clone is a paper doll that has never experienced hardship, that person would most likely be considered mentally ill.
However, the Xuan Master who had just stopped was indeed a third-rank Xuan Master. Later, Shan Hongxing noticed that many of the paper figures that passed by them had faint Xuan Master auras, as if they were not paper figures, but living, breathing people.
What's more, what lies before us is a city full of paper figures.
"Uncle-Master!" Qiao Yu gasped for breath. He only dared to speak after seeing Shan Hongxing nod. "Just now, that paper figure seemed to have noticed me."
"Yes!" For some reason, he suddenly felt like joking, "They've noticed me too."
Qiao Yu: ...
"Let's not joke around at a time like this, okay?" Lan Yezhou rarely disrespected his elders, but this place was too eerie, and he was scared!
Some people become bolder when they are afraid, and they do unexpected things.
"Remember to copy the Heart Sutra when you get back; you need to temper your mind."
"Master..." Facing his master's unquestionable gaze, Lan Yezhou nodded helplessly, "Alright, alright, Master is right, I will do it."
But what are we doing now! We saw that monk too, he's acting crazy..."
"It is worthy of being called Buddha, and it is indeed a name with Buddhist affinity. This name is not wrong."
"Uncle-Master, let's find someone quickly!" Yuan Qingling's breathing was unstable at the moment, and he dared not act alone. What was happening in this strange place was unknown to them.
The thunder still rumbled, and the thunderclouds here even seemed thicker than those outside, as if they were touching the sky.
As soon as they entered, they chased after the figure in that direction, but a mad monk suddenly led a large army of paper figures to the street. Left with no other choice, they could only pretend to be paper figures themselves.
"I really hope they're all safe now, and I hope these paper figures are there to drag people away, not to kill them," Yuan Qingling muttered to herself.
"There's a crow next to you, be careful you don't become a jinx!"
Yuan Qingling: ...
Lu Feiyu: "Lan Yezhou! If you can't speak properly, then shut up! Who's in the mood to listen to your jokes right now!"
"Isn't it just about making the atmosphere a little more lively? You guys don't know how to cooperate at all..." Lan Yezhou muttered, then suddenly his eyes widened because someone appeared in the sky whom he would recognize even if he turned to ashes. That person was the one they were looking for.
"Yang Wennan! My God! What happened to him? Has he become a demon? Why is blood dripping from his hair?"
Before Lan Yezhou could finish speaking, Lu Feiyu gave him a flick on the forehead: "You're ignorant."
"The Soul Clan?" Shan Hongxing stared incredulously at the mark between the celestial beings' brows.
He was just a young man over three hundred years old. The last Soul Clan was hidden deep in the snowfield, but they were wiped out in the great war between gods and demons ten thousand years ago. He only saw records of the Soul Clan in ancient books.
He had red hair, double pupils, a crescent moon between his eyebrows, and snow-white skin.
That perfectly describes Yang Wennan's current state, "What has this child been through..."
"Senior Uncle, please save my senior brother's life." Yuan Qingling was the most experienced among Wen Jingge's disciples, so she naturally realized what had happened before any of them.
The demon race of today is like the soul race of the past, hated by everyone.
If someone were to discover that not only was a demon hiding on Ten Thousand Zhang Peak, but it also took the lowest-ranking demons as disciples, and now there's another descendant of the Soul Clan, their master would probably be dead beyond any doubt.
"nature."
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