After striking the second watchman's horn, he put on his clothes and went home. Having lived for decades, the old man knew very well what he could and could not see. For example, he absolutely could not go to the porridge stalls that appeared on the street in the middle of the night. He had heard that Wang Er next door had died of pain after drinking a bowl of porridge at a porridge stall in the middle of the night because he was craving it.
I heard that a family encountered strange things today, like a starving ghost being reincarnated.
The old man pulled his clothes tighter, unmoved by the sounds coming from beside him, only muttering the only scripture he knew: "Namo Amitabha Buddha, Namo Amitabha Buddha..."
He could see it clearly out of the corner of his eye: a figure was throwing a punch at the air, behaving extremely strangely.
The old man's legs were a little weak, but he persevered and walked forward.
"Namo Amitabha Buddha, you can't see me, you can't see me, you can't see me..."
Fortunately, it wasn't his death day, so the "ghost" didn't pay attention to him.
"Damn it, you're still glaring at me?" Fang Zhiyi slapped the wooden sign in her hand straight at the little devil's face, and the little devil's face was full of fear.
What kind of respectable Taoist priest beats up wandering ghosts with memorial tablets engraved with the names of deities?
The key issue is that it can't escape; its body is tightly bound by ropes soaked in chicken blood.
"Master Daoist," Little White peeked out from the side, "you seem to have scared him." It pointed to the night watchman who had hurriedly run away.
"Um?"
Xiao Bai glanced at the little brat, feeling pity for him: "Maybe we should just forget about it, he's still just a child..."
"So what if they're kids? Kids can kill people? If it weren't for my power, I might be the one suffering! Does evil have an age limit?"
"Uh, Master Dao is right."
After another beating, Fang Zhiyi told Xiaobai to drag the brat home first.
"Master Dao, where are you going?" Xiao Bai asked warily. Had he guessed right? Was he planning to run away?
"Don't ask!" Fang Zhiyi looked around, then disappeared into the shadows.
"Was he a thief before becoming a Taoist priest?" Little White was somewhat surprised. Turning to look at the pitiful little ghost, it sighed, "Let's go. Who told you to possess someone else? Humans have their own way, and ghosts have their own path..."
To the little devil's surprise, the monster that was dragging it away was emitting a faint, inconspicuous white light, which disappeared in the blink of an eye.
"That bastard!" The fake master, who had already taken a shower and changed his clothes during the day, was still too angry to sleep, and his two henchmen could only stay up with him.
“You guys didn’t come with me today, otherwise I could, I could… damn it!” He gulped down a mouthful of wine. “I’ve been wandering the world for so many years, and I’ve never been this humiliated!” As he spoke, he remembered the vomit all over his face and almost threw up again.
"Boss, don't be angry. We'll go with you to find that kid tomorrow! We'll kill him!"
"right!"
"I was a bit delayed today because of scouting... Come on, let me have a drink with you."
After downing another glass of wine, the fake fortune teller's face hardened: "That brat dares to predict my fate! I'm tough as nails! Tomorrow I'll make him kneel and beg me to let him go!"
The two henchmen exchanged a glance, thinking that their boss must be feeling incredibly frustrated today.
"That's right, saying you won't live past midnight? Bah! Let him meet the King of Hell tomorrow!"
What time is it now?
It's almost midnight.
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