Requiem Chapter 68: Guanyin, finger bone relic
"What happened? What happened later?" It must be said that when Old Zhao told the story, it was like singing an opera or telling a story. The three people present were captivated and completely drawn into it.
"What happened later? How can I even begin to describe what happened later?" Old Zhao smiled bitterly and shook his head, sighing with every word he spoke: "When the crematorium workers pushed Zhang Xiuting's body into the crematorium, within a few seconds, her screams could be heard, one after another, so painful that it made my scalp twitching."
"Screams? Wasn't Zhang Xiuting dead? Could it be that she was not dead at that time?" Yin Hun's brows were twisted into a "川" shape and he asked three question marks in a row.
Old Zhao didn't say anything until the end, when he nodded painfully. With trembling hands, he put the pipe in his mouth and took a few puffs. But when he realized that there was no lit tobacco in it, he lowered his arms disappointedly.
"It looks like it might be a nervous shock, just suspended animation. Once stimulated by external stimuli, the brain starts working again," said Old Zhao.
"What happened after that ? Did Zhang Xiuting survive?" Yin Hun asked anxiously.
"Hey, kid, people's minds are no longer the same, and they don't have any desires anymore. Do you think Huang Chen will let her live?" Old Zhao's eyes suddenly lit up with a strange look. He smiled strangely, and then took a deep breath with lingering fear: "At that time, I heard from Sun Faxue that several young masters at the scene heard that something was wrong inside, and they all wanted to go up and pull her out first to see if she was still breathing, and send her directly to the hospital, maybe they could save a life. But Huang Chen scolded them, then rushed up and directly turned off the power switch."
At this point, Old Zhao's trembling hands shook even more violently, and the pipe in his hand fell to the ground uncontrollably. There was a clanging sound, and everyone got goose bumps.
"When the temperature rose, a heart-wrenching cry for help came from the furnace. The crematorium made a creaking sound from being scratched by fingernails, and drops of blood oozed out along the white paint surface of the crematorium. Haha! Haha..." Old Zhao said this, and regardless of the fear in the hearts of the few people, he continued to roar out of control: "Do you know what Zhang Xiuting has been shouting? She kept shouting, the child is innocent, please let my child live, please let me give birth to the child before dying, please let me taste the happiest thing about being a woman."
Everyone was moved by Zhang Xiuting's great maternal love, but no one dared to help.
Old Zhao covered his face with his hands and buried his head deeply between his knees.
Tang Yan and Shen Feifei had already been crying in each other's arms, as if they were listening to a great love story.
Only Yin Hun was there, with his fists clenched. Thinking of the mayor's gentlemanly appearance, Yin Hun really wanted to punch this man flat. He was still a man, but he really brought shame to men.
What shocked him was that he didn't expect that Old Zhao, a Taoist hermit who was detached from worldly affairs, was actually moved by this incident.
Maybe! A master is not someone without emotions. Only those who can distinguish right from wrong, good from evil, and understand the warmth and coldness of human nature are the true masters that people yearn for.
"When the thousands of degrees of heat gradually died down, the whole room gradually quieted down. Everyone's feet were covered in sweat. Some people even sat down on the ground in silence because they couldn't stand the fear. The hardest thing to find is a job, not to mention a high salary? So no one would take a risk for an irrelevant thing. Huang Chen even said that it was already like this. Everyone was tied to a rope. Once something happened, no one could escape. They were all accomplices. Of course, in order to appease the emotions, he increased everyone's monthly salary fivefold, which was a big stick to feed a sweet date. Cremation white Huang Chen frowned, turned on the stove, and used a hook to get at the coat. Zhang Xiuting was dead. This time it was not a fake death, but she was completely burned to ashes under Huang Chen's eyes. The strange thing was that the ashes she burned out were unusually large, because there was another little life in it. Things went smoothly, and Huang Chen was also sweating , but no one expected that seven days later, the real disaster would come! "Old Zhao's voice was ups and downs, and it was very vivid. Everyone couldn't help but be attracted by his emotional fluctuations. They stared at Old Zhao in an orderly manner and listened to what Old Zhao said about the past. "Seven days later, which was the seventh day after the girl's death, a large number of blood spots suddenly seeped out of the outer wall of the crematorium, splashing on the snow-white paint, like peach blossom dots, which was extremely strange. The museum had no choice but to call a skilled worker to repaint, but the strange thing was that no matter how many times it was repainted, the dark red blood stains would still appear. Moreover, in the middle of the night, bright human blood would flow out of those blood spots, dyeing the entire crematorium red! According to the security guard on night patrol, he heard the squeaking sound of nails scratching the iron sheet in the furnace many times, as well as miserable cries for help, as if they came from the trapped soul, trying desperately to escape from the crematorium.
Later, under pressure, Huang Chen had to seal up the crematorium, removed the iron door, and sealed the crematorium with cement, turning it into a secret room that could neither be entered nor exited. But this method was obviously only a temporary solution, and before long, people began to die one after another in the funeral home. It was not until the seventh person that the accidental casualties gradually stabilized. But in the same period of the following year, another seven people died, and it never stopped. And at this time of year, as soon as it got dark, the abandoned crematorium would make the sound of fingernails scratching the iron sheet..."
For a time, the people in the funeral home were in a panic, and no one dared to continue. Compared with money, the brain is more important! It was not until the appearance of Old Zhao that the spilled water was recovered. After learning the whole story, Old Zhao decided to go to the grave mountain in person, thinking that the person who tied the bell should be the one to untie it. But he soon found that because Zhang Xiuting's resentment was too deep, coupled with the strong obsession of stillbirth, it was impossible to be saved. And because the funeral home was a point of gathering Yin pool in Feng Shui, the curses from all directions were absorbed by Zhang Xiuting little by little, and now, how could he resist it?
But Zhao Deshui was not a person to be underestimated. He had traveled all over the world, and had seen all kinds of things. He said goodbye and rushed to the White Horse Temple in Henan Province, where he found his good friend, the abbot of the White Horse Temple: Abbot Zecheng. Abbot Zecheng was also an interesting person. Zhao Deshui's exorcism and suppression of ghosts focused on destruction, while he focused on persuasion. Although they were completely opposite, they had the same goal.
How did the Taoist priest become good friends with the monk? There is a little story behind this. It is said that Abbot Zecheng once went to visit other great monks in another place. In a hotel, he met a lonely ghost. The ghost couldn't beat him and wanted to run away. Zecheng wanted to take him in, but he used the wooden fish to block the ghost in the room, not letting him leave or escape. He recited the Heart Sutra of Avalokitesvara for three days and three nights just to influence him. In the end, he was fine, but the ghost cried... Great monk, you are awesome, can't we reincarnate together? At that time, Zhao Deshui was next door and was also confused. After a while, he became friends with this old monk. After hearing this, Abbot Zecheng raised his white eyebrows, meditated for a while, and uttered a Zen saying, which roughly meant: Old monk, I'm in poor health, and I'm expected to die tomorrow. You've come at the right time. After I die, please put my relics in the statue of Guanyin in my meditation room and take it back to suppress it on Zhang Xiuting's grave. This will help to curb her resentment. However, my Buddhist Dharma is limited, and this statue of Guanyin also has a shelf life. What happens in the future depends on your luck.
Sure enough, the next day, Master Zecheng passed away. Zhao Deshui followed his instructions and took Zecheng's finger bone relic and the Guanyin statue to the funeral home. He did the same thing. The situation was finally eased. But Zhao Deshui knew that this thing could cure the first day of the month, but not the fifteenth day.
Old Zhao raised his eyes, looked at the teacup on the table, took a big sip, then poured another cup and drank it. He felt some warmth rising in his heart and his expression eased a lot.
"I just didn't expect it to happen so quickly." After calming down, the fear in Old Zhao's expression was no longer so strong.
