Chapter 359: Yinshan Village

Seeing that Kong Xuyang was about to lose his mind again, Yang Zhi hurriedly changed the topic, "Brother Kong, we still have an advantage, we've already figured out how to collect clues in the TRUE END line in the last round of the game."

The red-eyed Kong Xuyang forcibly gathered his mind and exhaled a mouthful of turbid breath, "Huang Li of Yinshan Village, the missing parts of the mural are in the village of Huang Li, as long as we find the Huang Li of a hundred years ago, we will be able to complete the backstory line of the Taoist zombie."

"It will also be able to find its weakness." Yang Zhi patted Kong Xuyang's shoulder and back, letting Kong Xuyang relax, "Last time a player in the game had already found a page of Huang Li, Brother Kong do you still remember where that player found it?"

Kong Xuyang's eyes slowly shifted outward, he looked towards the mountain and the weir hidden in the darkness, and said word by word: "The mass grave behind the weir."

In the tomb passage.

The original narrower and narrower entrance to the tomb passage was hardened with brute force to break out a large opening, and the four walls were covered with the zombie's harsh claw marks.

Bai Liu held up the candlestick and shone it, "These should all be that zombie's scratching away in order to get out."

"...... This strength is also too horrible." Mu Sicheng reached up to compare the claw marks, than his hand is bigger than two whole circles, deep visible wall, Mu Sicheng see scalp a little numb, "If this zombie mad, scratch us to death without effort."

"So it's going to end the game before then." Bai Liu said.

Bai Liu went to the entrance where they climbed into the tomb, stepped on Mu Sicheng's shoulder and used his strength to leap upwards, and jumped out, Bai Liu backhanded Mu Sicheng and pulled him up.

Their entrance to the tomb was under a bed, and Mu Sicheng was about to crawl out from under the bed when Bai Liu pressed down on his shoulder.

Bai Liu looked out of the bed, his tone calm, "There's light, there's someone outside."

It was only then that Mu Sicheng noticed the flickering of silver, white, gray, and black light on the floor under the bed, accompanied by a cacophony, like the sound of a poorly connected electric current, and the intermittent, intermittent voices of many people talking.

The voices were gruff at one time and delicate at another, but it was as if they were separated by something, not like real people talking.

"...... These demons are going to freeze us, kill us, and starve us, but as long as we have a breath in us, we're going to hold on to this place and not let outsiders come and take it away from us ......"

"But the men are gone, leaving a village of old and sick people, where can they hold the fort, they can't hold the fort ......"

"When will the men come back, the daughters-in-law will go to the bridge at the village entrance again! Remember to bring an umbrella don't get wet you guys, it's almost Ching Ming, it's been raining a lot lately ......"

Bai Liu and Mu Sicheng looked at each other, and they realized where the sound came from.

"The sound of a television." Mu Sicheng pointed outside and spoke softly, "Someone is watching TV."

Bai Liu gave a gesture that he would go out first, then drew himself deftly away from the edge of the bed, dropping to one knee in the shadow of the foot of the bed not illuminated by the light of the television, and he looked silently ahead as if to confirm something.

Then Bai Liu made sure, he lowered his head and gave a [shhh] gesture to Mu Sicheng who was still hiding under the bed, telling Mu Sicheng to come out more quietly.

Mu Sicheng was relieved to see this, he thought it was safe outside, and with one hand, he angled his body and scratched out from under the bed to stand up, only to turn around and gasp, quickly shrinking next to Bai Liu and mouthing "What's going on?!" with a face full of horror.

There is a mahogany bench next to the bed at the entrance, and on the bench sit two old men with their backs to Bai Liu them, with white hair.

The old man was facing a dated, edge-rotted wooden cabinet that held an old square FM television set that looked no more than twelve or thirteen inches.

The picture on the TV was in black and white, and shook and blurred from time to time, but the two old men seemed to be watching very intently, their necks stretched out in front of them, their backs straight, as if they had stiffened up, and they sat motionless, staring at the TV screen.

The light from the screen shone vaguely on the faces of the two old men, brown spots appeared around the old men's cloudy eyes, their mouths and noses looked like something was wriggling to crawl out, and in their ears they could see the white dots of a stretched out worm.

Instead, they had wooden smiles on their faces and their mouths moved rapidly as if they were saying something.

Mu Sicheng held his breath and paid attention but did not hear any sound coming from the throats of the two old men, but soon he realized where the sound of the two old men's speech was coming from.

The movements of these two old men's mouths were synchronized with the voices of the people on TV.

Bai Liu looked over to the TV set, "They're dubbing the people in the TV."

The shaky black-and-white picture on the TV looked like an old videotape from some historical source, with a few plain, old-fashioned women sitting by the door of the Yinshan village, wearing small boots and birthday suits, sitting on their knees next to a coffin waving a white handkerchief to cover their faces and crying, with an unfolded white umbrella by their side.

Mu Sicheng inquired in a low voice, "This is the attire of a martyred bridge ghost, are these women living martyred bridge ghosts?"

Bai Liu looked at the TV screen and nodded slightly, "I think so."

The two old men with weird faces had their mouths open and closed, and voices came out of the television:

"Men are dead, too many to fit in the grave ......"

"...... being torn apart by those ghostly things and dying in pieces, not being able to enter their ancestral graves, how can they go down to see their own ancestors ah ......"

"Put them in coffins and take them to the mountains at the end of the bridge to be buried, so that they can be properly buried."

"O my ingrate! You died a horrible death! How can you let me go on living!"

The women sobbed and lay on the coffin and would not let go, about to cry out, but finally followed the people carrying the coffin, followed the coffin across the weir, stepped on the bridge.

They were full of numb tears, their faces full of undried tearstains, their hands holding umbrellas to cool the coffins, preventing the souls of the mutilated corpses in these coffins from being damaged by the sun.

But at the moment of crossing the bridge, these women who had lost their husbands looked at the rows and rows of coffins falling into the mountains, and when they were holding their umbrellas to send the coffins off the bridge, they suddenly put away their umbrellas and jumped off the bridge, clutching their umbrellas without a second thought.

Under the bridge was a shallow stream, and these women hit the abutments, their heads bleeding.

They were holding their umbrellas in death and looking toward those distant coffins on the bridge with extremely sad and mournful expressions on their faces.

The moment the coffin left their sight, they slowly closed their eyes and collapsed into the water, motionless, the blood seeping out of them staining their birthday clothes and umbrellas and the clear stream.

Mu Sicheng's back was sweating as he watched the scene, but Bai Liu was extremely mesmerized, as if he was looking for someone.

This searching look made Mu Sicheng more and more furious: "Who are you looking for Bai Liu, there can't be anyone you know here, right?"

"Maybe." Bai Liu returned with a straight face.

Mu Sicheng was startled, then quickly came back to his senses, "That's not right Bai Liu, you don't have a memory, these are the only people you can recognize, me, Kong Xuyang, Yang Zhi, I know all of them ah, none of them are in this picture ah."

Bai Liu looked faintly at Mu Sicheng : "I'm looking for someone outside the picture."

"Out of the picture ......" Mu Sicheng was stunned, "What do you mean?"

Bai Liu replied calmly, "It's true that the person in this picture is unknown to you and me, but there is another person outside the picture who might look familiar to you and me."

Mu Sicheng became more and more puzzled, "This was a hundred years ago, who can I recognize?"

"You left out one person, the person who took this image." Bai Liu stares at the image, "If I'm not mistaken, this is the person you know what's going on the first time you look at them."

Curiosity overriding fear, Mu Sicheng clasped his chest, frowned in earnest and began to stare at the edge of the frame, trying to see the man who was holding up the camera.

Soon after, Mu Sicheng saw that the man filming was adjusting the camera to allow his face to enter the country.

As soon as the cameraman's face was in the camera, Mu Sicheng looked back at Bai Liu in shock: "How did he look like that?!"

Bai Liu was still smooth: "What else? What do you think he'll look like?"

Mu Sicheng pointed to the flickering cameraman lookalike in the picture and jumped up and down in a hurry, "He looks just like me!"

Black and white TV's in this cameraman dressed in old and trendy, small vest three-piece suit and a pair of leather shoes, head wearing a mourning cap, face with tear stains, is bowed down while debugging the film, while constantly using a brush to record something on a Huang Li Li book.

Bai Liu looked at the man: "He should be the village Huang Li division."

Huang Li, the village's record keeper of fortune, luck, and matters large and small, is also the recorder of the missing piece of information on the mural.

"How do you know he'll grow up to be like me?" Mu Sicheng was as curious as a cat scratching its heart, coming over to Bai Liu to ask.

Bai Liu swept a glance at Mu Sicheng and the camera hanging around his neck that had been recording, and opened his mouth to explain:

"I'm just guessing, it's known that what we're in is a game where we're involved in four role-plays, and all four of those characters are descendants of Shady Hills Village."

"From the props and quests obtained, the four characters are a grave robber, a decent warlock, a villainous warlock, and a cameraman."

Bai Liu looked up at Mu Sicheng: "Don't you think it's more reasonable to push this setting forward a hundred years?"

Mu Sicheng drew a blank, he seemed to be on the verge of understanding, "So you think that we are playing not this role of now, but this role of a hundred years."

"To be precise, we are playing the descendants of four characters." Bai Liu stretched out his finger and pointed it eight times on the ground, then connected every two dots two by two, "If this is a role-playing game with strict logic, and you are the cameraman, the recorder of paranormal events, and now a cameraman has appeared in front of us as well, the one who uses Huang Li to record the woes and fortunes of fortune and fortune, and the role assignments overlap by as much as eighty percent, I personally think that there is a high probability that you are his descendant."

"If I were designing the game, I'd adjust your appearances to match to remind you of that."

Mu Sicheng Daigo: "So you say he looks like me!"