I'm Fang Cheng, Cheng meaning "to achieve," but I've achieved nothing.

Thirty years old, single.

Besides work, I usually enjoy hiking with friends; I'm a hiker.

We've basically climbed all the nearby mountains suitable for climbing.

I'm feeling a bit bored.

Suddenly, someone in the group sent a message saying they had discovered a mountain that no one had ever climbed.

I took a look at the person who spoke; I remember him.

He hadn't spoken in the group for a long time before.

But the prospect of climbing a mountain interests me greatly.

I contacted him.

A total of seven people set off; it was indeed a rare mountain, with excellent scenery.

It's hard to imagine that there's still a mountain nearby that retains such a complete flavor.

It's just a pity that we encountered heavy rain.

In a hurry to take shelter from the rain, we saw a wooden house on the mountain, inhabited by a forest ranger, but the ranger wasn't there.

But his daughter was.

We ate in the mountain, seven companions huddled together to rest, I was a little unable to sleep.

I walked out, wanting to relax and see the scenery.

This place shouldn't be far from the city.

I looked into the distance, but couldn't see a single light.

Maybe the night fog is too thick today.

I thought.

The forest ranger's wooden house is still lit, is she not sleeping so late?

I want to go over and chat with that young girl.

The window was not closed.

She was dressing up in front of a mirror.

I put out my cigarette and waited quietly without disturbing her.

She meticulously drew her eyebrows with an eyebrow pencil, used modern cosmetics, and applied bright red lipstick.

She looks really good.

I couldn't help but think.

Suddenly I heard a ripping sound, I didn't pay attention, just absentmindedly thinking about my own experiences.

Unaccomplished, I haven't really achieved anything even at this age, I can only focus on hobbies to divert myself from the realization that I am a failure. I lost the interest in chatting, wanting to turn around and leave, but the ripping sound grew louder and louder.

I looked up and saw the woman with her back to me reaching out, grabbing her forehead, and pulling hard to both sides.

The face reflected in the mirror was torn off like that!

The human skin, with its clean makeup, was neatly placed aside.

Under the human skin, there were only bones.

It looked at me.

And exclaimed involuntarily.

"What a wonderful skin."

……………………

Dang—

Wei Yuan placed a wooden box on a platform in the museum, exhaled, reached out and adjusted the position, and then was barely satisfied. He took a step back, looking at the wooden box that didn't seem out of place among the various exhibits.

Qi Family Army soldier's spirit stood beside Wei Yuan.

The remaining four guys huddled together, far away from here, wishing they could run outside.

Inside the wooden box were a pair of gold-trimmed red soft shoes.

They were things left behind by Wan Qiniang.

The original ferocity had disappeared, leaving only a pair of shoes with supernatural properties.

Wei Yuan knocked on the box, warning the shoes not to go out for a walk or dance casually.

And don't even think about secretly turning on the computer to listen to opera.

Then he dripped a drop of blood on the lock of the box, as a seal.

After the baleful aura on Wan Qiniang dissipated, he gained the supernatural ability [Spirit Infusion]. Because he was this generation's Crouching Tiger Commandant, he seemed to carry certain things. His blood could be mixed into the effects of the supernatural ability [Exorcism], which had a certain restraining effect on monstrous and supernatural beings.

He opened the outermost security door and then opened the roller shutter on the window next to it.

It had been several days since he returned from Jiangnan Province. One autumn rain brought a chill, while spring rain brought warmth bit by bit. Wei Yuan stretched lazily, feeling a little languid. Without the disturbance and threat of demons and ghosts, he could finally feel a little more at ease.

He opened his phone; there was an audio recording inside.

Thanks to modern technology, he had recorded the last song Wan Qiniang sang.

Wei Yuan registered a new account and then posted this audio on several major websites in Shenzhou.

After a while, people had already left messages, or perhaps because the review team had actively pushed this not-so-long audio to a more prominent position, many people clicked on the audio, and the number of plays and comments increased rapidly.

All of them were shocked and admiring comments, and the occasional sour comments quickly disappeared.

"Front row, asking all you Yanzu brothers, who is singing this?"

"Holy crap, I'm kneeling, this tune is too authentic!"

"My mom asked me why I was kneeling to listen to music."

"Alas, I'm not cultured, but 'Holy crap' expresses everything."

"The gods have descended to earth, thank you for your hard work!"

The corners of Wei Yuan's mouth turned up.

You see.

There are still many, many people who like it.

The account's backend was constantly receiving private messages, some praising, some from music companies. Wei Yuan ignored them all, closed them directly, and then pulled a chair over, placed it at the door of the store, and sat on the wooden chair.

In his earphones was the first-hand, clear-quality song.

The last song of the last courtesan of Jiangnan Province in this world.

Some of the nearby residents, mostly elderly women, came out to stroll and buy groceries. The old men went out early to play chess. Suddenly seeing that the folk museum was open again, they all looked strangely at it. The energetic old men swung their arms, preferring to take a longer detour rather than walk past the front of the door.

An elderly woman circled around several times, and finally couldn't help but come over and said:

"Young man, do you live here..."

Wei Yuan took off his earphones, nodded, and smiled, "Yes, auntie, is there anything I can do for you?"

The elderly woman raised her eyes to look at the newly opened museum, hesitated for a long time, and said:

"This house of yours, it's not very clean."

"Listen to my advice, you'd better not live here."

Wei Yuan thanked her and smiled, "Thank you, but auntie, our modern society emphasizes science. How can there be any ghosts or monsters? Besides, I'm young and full of yang energy, so I'm not afraid of those things."

After sending away the elderly man and woman, Wei Yuan squinted and leaned back in the deck chair, lazily basking in the sun.

He hadn't opened the scrolls that were activated with the Crouching Tiger waist牌 (pai - badge).

From the name, Wei Yuan could vaguely guess that the scrolls might not be that simple.

At least he wasn't in the mood to read them now.

Only by losing something do you realize its value. After experiencing the events in Jiangnan Province, he now felt that a peaceful life was the best. If not necessary, he didn't plan to actively interfere in the affairs of demons and ghosts. At the moment, he was basking in the sun, listening to the opera with his eyes closed, gently tapping the armrest with his palm, and humming softly.

Before the song finished.

A sound of an engine starting came from a distance, like the roar of a giant beast.

A motorcycle stopped in front of the museum in full view of everyone. A woman in a leather jacket got off the motorcycle, took off her helmet, revealing sharp, neat short hair and beautiful curves. She casually put the helmet on the motorcycle.

Hearing the sound, Wei Yuan opened his eyes and looked at the woman who should have been a Daoist priest, and said:

"Officer Zhou?"

Zhou Yi smiled and nodded, "Curator Wei."

Wei Yuan originally wanted to explain that he was not the curator of this museum, but seeing Zhou Yi's appearance, he didn't care about that, so he smiled and glossed over the question. He took off his earphones, got up and invited the guest into the museum, saying:

"I didn't expect Officer Zhou to take the initiative to come to my museum."

Zhou Yi said, "To thank you, and to give you something."

She took a wooden box, three feet long, from the side of the motorcycle and handed it to Wei Yuan.

"I saw your sword; it can't be used anymore."

"This is a thank-you gift."

Wei Yuan opened the sword box. Inside was still an eight-sided Han sword, even the scabbard was there. It was heavy and delicate in his hand. Even without using the state of manipulating the soldier's spirit, he could tell the quality of the sword, and couldn't help but say:

"A good sword."

Zhou Yi said, "I'm glad you like it."

"This was made last year by the Longquan lineage. The craftsmanship and center of gravity are comparable to the swords of ancient generals. It's hard to find on the market. The Special Operations Team happened to have one, so I exchanged it for you as a reward for saving my life."

Wei Yuan flicked the blade of the sword with his finger, listening to the clear sound of the sword, stroked the blade of the sword with his palm, and then put the sword back into the sword box, put it aside, and looked at Zhou Yi: "Officer Zhou is here, it shouldn't be just for this, right?"