She doesn't know where she is.
It was so dark that she couldn't even hear her own breathing.
Wait... is she breathing
She stretched out her hand to feel her breath, but it was naturally cold and motionless. Yes, she remembered, she was dead.
But... how did she die? And why die? She, who is she? what is her name
Can't remember, can't remember everything.
How did she come to this place? Can't see anything around. The black mist was heavy, and even as a ghost, she felt the biting cold. The footsteps moved forward uncontrollably, and I didn't know how long I walked before I heard the faint sound of the river tumbling. She hesitated for a moment, then walked a few steps forward, and saw light around her, and a wide river that could not see the opposite bank was lying in front of her. The river was calm, but it was inexplicably rough. There is an exquisite and distant bridge over the river, and there is nothing at the end of the bridge except a big stone.
There was nothing on the stone, but she stood there as if possessed by a demon. Slowly, her whole life emerged on the stone. Qing Huan, a woman from the Tang Dynasty, named Dou Kou, was nineteen years old and died in the fifteenth year of Dasong Kaiyuan. He never changed his infatuation during his lifetime, met inhuman beings, and committed suicide by hanging himself.
Qing Huan trembled her lips, she covered her heart, it was empty, but it hurt badly. The memories that had been temporarily forgotten quickly returned to her mind. She once loved a man deeply and devoted her whole life to him. However, in the end, she ended up being heartbroken and committed suicide.
pain.
It hurts like hell.
How can ghosts feel pain
Just when she was about to shed tears, the black mist on the right side slowly dissipated, Qing Huan noticed a man wearing a dragon robe sitting silently next to the stone. The magnificent dragon robe has now become old and broken, as if it would turn into dust and smoke with just one breath. The reason why Qing Huan didn't notice him was because he didn't move at all, his eyes stared blankly ahead, and even the strands of his hair seemed to be frozen.
Qing Huan walked over and asked: "This... Your Majesty, may I ask, do you know where this is?"
The man didn't speak, as if he didn't hear Qing Huan asking him. He seemed to have become one with that stone, the stone was him, he was the stone. All the time he sat there in silence, with his hands on his knees, and all around him time and space, dust and air, remained motionless.
Qing Huan no longer insisted, she returned to the bridge and stepped on it hesitantly. I don't know how long she walked, but she was at a loss in her heart. As she walked, she suddenly realized that there seemed to be a small shop right there. The small shop is in the style of a thatched cottage, and is very simple. On the wide bridge, there are several wooden tables with a bowl of steaming soup on the table. The soup is crystal clear, like clear water, but it emits an attractive fragrance. A little girl with a double bun was sitting there, stretching her arms, struggling to stir the soup in the iron pot with the spoon in her hand.
Qing Huan couldn't bear it, so she stepped forward and said softly, "Let me help you."
The little girl was stunned for a moment, then turned around, seeing that it was her, she instantly smiled happily. Qing Huan couldn't help being infected by this smile, took the spoon from the little girl's hand, and stirred it gently. The little girl sat on the bench and kicked her legs, and looked at her curiously with her chin propped on her hands. After a while, she asked, "Sister, in order to thank you for helping me, may I treat you to a bowl of soup?"
"... No, I don't want to drink." Qing Huan forced a smile, not wanting to scare the lovely child in front of her. She is just a ghost, what kind of soup does a ghost need
"But if you don't drink, you will never forget that person."
Hearing this, Qing Huan was inexplicably horrified, and looked at the little girl. The little girl looked at her with big black and white eyes blinking, and waved her little hand: "Sister, look at the words there."
Qing Huan followed her fingers and looked over, the bridge piers were engraved with three large Chinese characters: Naihe Bridge. Dark piers, dark bridges, dark characters.
"Sister, you have two choices. One is to drink this bowl of soup and move forward from here until you reach the end. Or..." the little girl put away her smile. "You jump down."
As soon as she finished speaking, there was the sound of howling ghosts and wolves in the river. Countless ghosts floated on the surface of the river. There were men and women, old and young. The only thing they had in common was that they kept crying. That piercing cry made Qing Huan shiver all over. She took a step back involuntarily, the ghosts were staring at her, their faces... maybe they couldn't be called faces anymore, only the madness and obsession in their eyes made Qing Huan recognize that they were once human.
"You have already passed through the gate of hell. As long as you drink this bowl of soup, you can be reincarnated." The little girl giggled, got off the stool, and walked to Qing Huan. The ghost in the Wangchuan River was still there. There were screams and wailing, the river was so turbid that you couldn't see its color, and the wide Wangchuan River with no visible edge was full of ghosts who were unwilling to leave like this.
"They are all ghosts who jumped from here, so they can't be reincarnated, and they can't maintain their sanity, unless their loved ones pass by and recognize them—but they can't make any sound." The little girl sighed. "I have been here for many years, and no ghost has ever left here. After staying in the river for a long time, many ghosts have forgotten who they are waiting for. Even if their lovers pass by, they don't recognize them. .”
The little girl said old-fashionedly: "This is love, it's troublesome, sister, why don't you drink this bowl of soup and move on."
Qing Huan looked at the ghosts crying and wailing in the river in silence.
Seeing that she was silent, the little girl looked at her with her chin propped up. After a while, she asked, "Sister, do you know a person named He Lianfang?"
Hearing this name, Qing Huan suddenly turned to look at her: "...she is my benefactor."
"Ah... this is troublesome." The little girl pouted. "She was supposed to come to replace me, but I've been waiting here for a long time and she didn't come. It stands to reason that she should have died a long time ago!"
Qing Huan hurriedly said: "How could she die? When I died, she was young and just pregnant!"
The little girl said: "She should have died at the age of twelve, because she was going to replace me."
"No!" Qing Huan blurted out. "She's not dead, she's not going to die, why not... why don't you let me take over for you, as it happens that I don't want to be reincarnated either. I..."
Hearing this, the little girl smiled and said, "Sister, would you like to stay? Your breath is very clean, so you can stay here. If you replace He Lianfang, she can live and return At the age of twelve, live again!"
Qing Huan nodded hurriedly: "I am willing."
"Okay, let's make a deal." The little girl smiled with satisfaction, and walked over to hold Qing Huan's hand. "You come with me."