Chapter 16 Old Dreams and the Present World

Wan Qiniang looked at the long sword in Wei Yuan's hand, her lips parted slightly, and then she smiled.

"Is that so... but I won't just wait for death."

"Whether we live or die, we have to try."

The black hair behind her grew again, stained with the cold water vapor. Her fingers were pale, but her nails were sharp and black. Her red dress became eerie, stained with black spots, revealing a mottled ancient feel.

She changed back into the state of a vengeful ghost.

Zhou Yi and Xuan Yi's expressions changed drastically. They couldn't hear Wei Yuan and Wan Qiniang's words clearly, but they could understand the change. They immediately wanted to come forward to help, but the Yin wind in the ghost domain suddenly became violent. They had used up all their talismans and were exhausted, unable to move forward.

Wei Yuan held the sword in both hands.

The blood on the sword turned into golden talismans.

He closed his eyes when he saw Wan Qiniang transform into a vengeful ghost again.

Then he shouted in a low voice and ran quickly forward, his eyes fixed on the ghost's heart. His footsteps suddenly stopped, and the sword in his hand thrust out, the simplest and most fierce straight stab, but his experience from the battlefield made this sword perfect.

The power rose from his feet, waist, legs, arms, shoulders, and finally to his wrist. Every muscle that should be used was used; from the earth under his feet to the blade, every joint collision transmitted the power, and finally, it was perfectly poured into the blade.

To achieve such a perfect movement.

Wei Yuan didn't think at all.

This came from the life-and-death experience gained from the Qi Family Army's military soul.

On the battlefield where a moment of slowness meant death, such complex body movements didn't need to be thought about anymore.

The blade smeared with the blood of the Crouching Tiger Commandant pierced Wan Qiniang's heart without any resistance, and her arms and nails, like the old man just now, avoided Wei Yuan, as if sending her heart to the blade.

The blood on the sword violently destroyed the soul.

"Why?"

Wei Yuan asked, holding the sword.

Wan Qiniang's face turned pale again. She pursed her lips and smiled, but didn't answer.

In the sky above the ghost domain, strange Yuan Qi began to fluctuate violently.

The illusion woven from the soul's thoughts shattered bit by bit. High-rise buildings, pavilions, and gardens disappeared, revealing their dilapidated appearance. The rolled-up dry grass was blown by the wind, and finally, the violent fluctuations swept through, completely announcing the disappearance of the entire ghost domain.

The aftershock before the disappearance made Zhou Yi and Xuan Yi groan and faint directly.

The thing in Xuan Yi's hand fell to the ground with a soft sound and began to operate.

Wei Yuan was also hit head-on, but the power of exorcism covered a thin film-like shield on his body, cutting off a large part of the damage. His face just turned pale, and a trace of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.

When the soul is injured, external wounds are not obvious, but power will continue to be lost.

Wan Qiniang's soul gradually became transparent, returning to heaven and earth.

She looked at Wei Yuan, suddenly smiled, and said:

"When Young Master Wei came just now, he said he wanted to hear Qiniang sing a song?"

"...That's right."

"Does the young master still have the leisure now? I want to sing another song."

Wei Yuan nodded slightly.

Wan Qiniang stood in front of Wei Yuan, regretting, and said:

"It's a pity, there are no musical instruments, so I can only sing a cappella."

"How difficult is that?"

Wei Yuan sat on a bluestone, placed the eight-sided Han sword that was on the verge of its limit horizontally on his lap, and tapped the sword body with his fingers. The force was different, and the tapping location was different, so the sound was also different, as if playing music, but the sound of metal was ultimately too strong.

Wei Yuan said:

"I will play the sword and sing for you, miss."

"Thank you, young master."

Wei Yuan paused and said, "Old Mr. Jiang has always felt apologetic in his heart."

Wan Qiniang lowered her eyebrows and said softly:

"The matter has passed, what's the point of mentioning it again?"

"I don't want to forgive them either."

"Well, that's natural."

The Crouching Tiger Commandant tapped the sword with his fingers.

All the romance was washed away by the rain and wind. In the dilapidated pavilions and buildings, the pond also withered. All the beauties and patrons of the year had scattered. The rouge shop had no customers anymore. Further away, high-rise buildings rose from the ground, and the prosperity was like a dream, but when the girl raised her hand, shook her water sleeves, and her eyebrows and eyes turned softly, she opened her mouth lowly.

Then it was still the Jiangnan of that year.

……………………

Zhou Yi opened her eyes blankly.

She immediately recalled the scene before she fainted and shivered.

Almost instinctively, she rolled to one side, and at the same time, pulled the half of the sword on the ground into her hand, looked up, and was stunned.

The vengeful ghost was gone.

The surroundings were no longer the vast ghost opera garden. Everywhere you could see a dilapidated appearance. Trees fell, rotted, and grew faint moss. Mushrooms grew on one side, and white cobwebs formed on the windows of the ancient buildings. /

The lotus pond withered.

It was no longer gloomy here, just dilapidated.

Wei Yuan was sitting on a bluestone, with his back to the two of them.

Zhou Yi breathed a sigh of relief and said, "You're okay... Where's Wan Qiniang?"

Wei Yuan said lightly: "Her soul shattered and returned to heaven and earth."

"It's good that you woke up, I should go too."

He stood up.

Qiniang had disappeared, but the pair of red embroidered shoes that were one of the bases of her existence as a vengeful ghost were still there. The fierce aura had dissipated, but they were still not ordinary objects. They might attract wandering souls to inhabit and use them. Wei Yuan found a wooden box and put the embroidered shoes and the stack of letters away.

He thought of the sentence Qiniang said before she disappeared, and paused.

Then he opened his black umbrella and turned to walk out.

Zhou Yi saw the eight-sided Han sword that had been through hard battles stuck upside down in front of the bluestone.

And Wei Yuan's fingers were swollen and bleeding. Seeing that Wei Yuan had raised his hand to push the door and was about to leave, Zhou Yi subconsciously shouted: "Who exactly are you?!"

Wei Yuan didn't look back and replied:

"Just an ordinary person watching over a museum."

"If you have time, you can come and take a look."

He pushed open the door and walked out along the stone road. The rain had stopped, and the stone slabs reflected a faint light. A tour guide led a group of tourists passing by here and introduced loudly with a loudspeaker:

"...Everyone, look over here, this is the most complete ancient street preserved in Jiangnan Road. There used to be many stalls here. Look here, this is Jixiang Fang, a famous rouge shop in Jiangnan in the past. Women all hoped to use the good rouge here..."

"And in front, it is Chunxiao Yuan, one of the two major opera gardens in Jiangnan Road during the Ming Dynasty, also known as Chunxiao Lou. It is expected to be open to everyone soon. At that time, you can go inside to drink tea, and there will be our opera troupe singing operas and songs on the stage, so that everyone can experience the ancient Ming Dynasty style..."

The tourists nodded in praise.

Among them, there were two little girls who were only six or seven years old, discussing their favorite opera-style ancient style, while learning the appearance in the TV, raising one hand and twisting their sleeves with the other, innocent and lovely.

In the sound of footsteps.

Wei Yuan held the umbrella and brushed past the tourists.

Each heading into the distance.

Jiangnan pavilions in misty rain, how many romantic past events, who remembers?

It's better not to remember.