Article 291
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The yin soldier in the lead said: "My colleagues have worked hard. In this yard, the four kings pick out the leftovers. I know that you are usually uncomfortable. Pick something you like to play with. If you have something you particularly like, come to me. Register here and bring it back to your home.”
Those ghosts under the Four Kings screamed, laughed wantonly, and went to the house to pick out very beautiful things. The woman outside was naturally not immune, surrounded by several people under the tree, and pounced on her like a hungry wolf, as if trying to chew her soul to pieces.
There was panting and chatter in the room for a moment, some were crying, some were yelling, some were begging for mercy.
Some people really couldn't stand this kind of torture, and wanted to get rid of it, so they sacrificed their souls to flatter them and try their best to please them. The ugliness of all living beings is the same whether in hell or on earth.
Mo Ran lightly fell from the tower, and sneaked to the roof of the side hall through the night. He thought to himself, according to the old man at the wonton stall, Chu Wanning just came, and he should not have been selected by the ghost king, so he would not be here, but he was still a little worried, so he lifted a small half of the black tile and looked down quietly.
The desire in the house was flourishing, and amidst the chaos, he saw a person's face.
Rong Jiu.
In the previous life, he doted on him a lot, but took advantage of his doting to plot against him and try to steal his cultivation, and he was actually among them.
He is the most clever, knowing life and death.
Many people in this room are struggling, unwilling to follow. Some dead people were still calling out the names of their lovers in the Yangshi in their mouths in the confusion, while others kept cursing in spite of their reputation. But Rong Jiu is different, Mo Ran knows this person, he loves money, loves life, of course, after death, there is no life to love, but he also cherishes his soul, and doesn't want to be treated by nüè again.
On the messy and spacious bed, almost all the unselected "tributes" around him were begging for forgiveness and struggling, but he closed his eyes and let the man gallop, his mouth was soft and soft like a cat.
Mo Ran looked at his face full of chūncháo, and suddenly felt a chill in his heart.
He thought of Chu Wanning.
Rong Jiu is soft around the fingers, and Chu Wanning is Bai Steelmaking.
At first glance, it looks as cold and hard as black iron, and no one can break it. But in such a situation, Rong Jiu will please, he will flatter, and he will be willing to bend down and use his softness to build an indestructible battlement for himself.
But what about Chu Wanning?
Mo Ran doesn't even need to think about it, he can know what will happen to that person, he would rather die, and would rather fall into the 18th floor of hell, who can move him?
The flowing water never breaks, only the steel knife breaks.
"boom!"
There was a startling sound at the end, which made the people in the house and the people on the roof terrified.
Mo Ran's face was pale, and he looked up into the courtyard.
Just now that flaming woman was stabbed a hole in the chest by the Yin soldiers, her soul gradually became transparent, and tears flowed from her eyes.
Then, he paused for a moment.
Suddenly scattered into a little dust.
Dazed.
The yin soldier who ruined her soul cursed and stood up, with a ferocious whip mark on his face, presumably the woman took his soul suppressing whip just now and whipped it on him. The yin soldier spit: "What the hell, it's bad luck! I've done a ghost, and I still can't think about it like this, bah! Smelly old women!"
The ink burns like falling into an ice cave.
He felt that what he saw just now was not the woman he had never met before, and he seemed to have seen the choice that Chu Wanning would make.
Rong Jiu is still flirting with those ghosts, this is his unique skill to survive, he clings to those who are harder than him like silk, and engulfs people with his gentleness like a net.
The tributes in the room gradually began to submit, and the rotten stench made people's throats tighten, and they almost felt sick.
I don't know how long it took for a big show to come to an end.
Rong Jiu really made people reluctant to leave. Some officers and soldiers put on their clothes and went to the head to register. After the four kings have seen it, they can lead people back to their homes.
These people are all ghosts under the Four Kings, and they don't enter reincarnation. Although following them is not as good as following the Four Kings, it is always a place where you can live comfortably without being tortured.
Rong Jiu was very satisfied with this.
The Yin soldier who wanted to take him back teased him again, it was late and he had to change the guard, so he left first. The group of demons gradually moved away, and the hall was desolate and messy, like a feast that ended, and the leftovers of wine and favors were spilled all over the floor, slowly cooling down.
He sat up lazily. As a man, he was the most calm among these people.
After dressing up, I looked in the bronze mirror and felt that my face was haggard after death, not as rosy as when I was alive, and it didn't match his brows and eyes.
So Rong Jiu ignored those women who were sobbing, dazed, and trembling, and he happily arranged his clothes, put on silk shoes, and walked into the yard.
There are also rouge flowers in hell, even more red and brilliant than those in the mortal world. He folded a bunch, dabbed the flower juice with his slender fingertips, smudged it on the tip of his lips, and spread it on his cheeks.
Everyone cares about different things, Rong Jiu was born with suffering, in his opinion, the so-called friendship is something that only noble people who are full of food can pursue. He is a dirty seed in the soil, he doesn't care about etiquette, justice, and shame. He only holds his own life in his arms, and when his life is gone, he holds his own soul.
Suddenly there was a slight rustling sound behind him, as if someone had touched the flowers and leaves.
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