Chapter 135 The disaster that transformed into an immortal
On the official road leading to Xiqi, scattered refugees were struggling to make their way.
The refugees are old and young, and they all come from villages near Xiqi. After suffering evil spirits, they will naturally tend to evacuate towards Xiqi.
Qingbo stood by the official road and let out a long breath.
"We are not far from Xiqi. I hope the plague has not completely gotten out of control. As long as we can contact the Immortal Chanjiao in the city, we may be able to rescue the master and brothers in Yanqu Town."
Her eyes were bloodshot, and she followed the refugees on foot.
Qing Bo then noticed that the refugees were behaving strangely.
The refugees covered their skin with rags, their expressions full of fear. No matter who wanted to get close, they would stay away immediately.
"It's a pity that we can't communicate, otherwise we could understand the current situation of various places in Xiqi."
The next half day was uneventful.
Qingbo's cultivation level was too low to control the paper horse. He occasionally released a few paper birds, and spent the rest of his time adjusting to his poor state.
By the time the sky turned gloomy, we had already walked twenty miles off the official road.
The refugees made a fire and rested on the spot. They took off the rags covering their skin and carefully inspected each other to make sure everything was correct before enjoying the food.
Qingpo leaned his back against the tree trunk exhausted.
I hadn't slept for several days, and I was frightened by the whirlpool. At first I just wanted to meditate, but I fell into a deep sleep without realizing it.
While half asleep and half awake, I vaguely heard the refugees on night watch talking in low voices.
It seems that they are worried whether the plague in Xiqi will become more serious.
Refugees called the plague a man-made disaster.
The specific reasons are unknown, and they are very secretive about talking about man-made disasters.
Qing Po drowsily heard some noise from the refugees in the middle of the night, but it only lasted for a moment and soon came to an abrupt end.
When it got dark, she woke up with a splitting headache.
"It's a mistake!!"
Qing Bo's expression changed drastically, and the refugees not far away had disappeared.
The remaining warmth of the bonfire was still there, and it could be seen that the refugees had left an hour or two ago, moving in a hurry, as if they were in danger.
"If it's evil, why don't you kill me?"
"Is it related to a man-made disaster?"
Suddenly.
There was a cry in the grass.
Qingbo took a closer look and saw a six or seven-year-old girl squatting in the grass, shivering because of fear, and scratching her hands.
After she confirmed that the little girl was not evil, she slowly approached her.
"Don't be afraid. I am a Taoist priest from Qianyuan Mountain who is passing by. Can you tell me..."
Before she finished speaking, the little girl suddenly raised her head. There were tears on her face, but her expression was calm.
"Itch."
The little girl only said one word, and Qing Po turned around and left in a cold sweat.
Qing Po remembered how when the plague broke out in Xiqi, the mortals infected by the plague scratched their heads and scratched their heads, and even suffered bruises all over their bodies.
"Itch."
"Aren't you itchy?"
Qingbo paused in his steps.
The moment she looked away, the little girl suddenly appeared on the other side of the official road.
The little girl remained expressionless and stood stiffly, as if there were no bones in her body. She kept scratching her arms, skin flakes flying everywhere, and scars all over the place, but no blood.
Qingbo's pupils were shaking, and his eyes fell on the little girl's hand.
His arms are extremely weird.
It stands to reason that blood can be seen if the skin breaks through a thin layer.
But the little girl was different. The scars could be embedded in her fingers, but Qing Po didn't see any flesh and blood at all, only dozens of layers of...skin.
That's right, the skin is actually stacked in layers.
The entire figure is composed of skin, with no bones and no internal organs.
"Aren't you itchy?"
The little girl tilted her head, scratched the skin between her eyebrows with her nails, and then used her hands to peel away the twenty or thirty layers of skin neatly.
Qing Bo's hair stood on end and he tried his best to stay away from the little girl.
She entered the dirt road in the mountains and ran for more than ten minutes. In the blink of an eye, the little girl reappeared by the stream ten meters away.
The little girl has taken off her skin to her knees.
Qing Bo's eyes were dull, and he saw the little girl's body hidden deep in the skin.
The comparison is not obvious, just a little bit thinner.
But there is a weirdness that goes against common sense everywhere. The appearance seems to be ordinary, but there is an indescribable awkwardness.
Especially the facial features.
The face seemed to be made of random combinations. The eyes were unusually large, and the pupils were pure black without a trace of white.
"A man-made disaster? Does it mean... monsters born from the bodies of refugees?"
"What kind of plague can make people turn into humans!"
Qing Po's expression collapsed, but the little girl just repeated 'Aren't you itchy?' over and over again, scratching another layer of skin in just a moment.
Her face was filled with fear.
The little girl's skin will not grow, which means that sooner or later it will be completely peeled off, and what will be the deepest part of her body!
"I'm not itchy, please don't pester me anymore!!"
"It turns out...you are not itchy."
After saying this, the little girl stepped back step by step into the rushing stream with a smile on her face.
When Qing Bo was stunned, the little girl had been washed away by the stream and disappeared inexplicably into the wild mountains, as if everything was just a dream.
She stared blankly at the stream for a long time until she confirmed that the little girl was gone.
Qing Bo returned to the official road in a daze and continued walking. However, after walking only three or four miles, Zhi Niao noticed a familiar scent.
"Master and the others..."
She turned around and saw blood-red eyes shining in the shadows. The black cat carried Master Mingshan and his disciples out, and the stone statue of Wugou was sitting on his neck. The two couldn't help but feel relieved after seeing Qingbo.
Qing Po's first reaction was to check the skin of the two of them, and there was faint blood oozing from the scabbed wounds.
"Master, senior brother, why are you okay?!"
Mingshan smiled and said, "Thanks to the intervention of Wugu Buddha, a member of the Nuwa clan, otherwise the cochlear disease in Yanqu Town would have killed at least 80% of the mortals."
The black cat threw Qingbo onto his back and continued towards Xiqi.
Qingsong helped Qingpo up, "Junior sister, fortunately, Buddha Vulgar is willing to take us for a ride."
Mingshan frowned, noticing that the refugees walking through the official road only had their eyes exposed, "Qingbo, didn't you encounter anything strange along the way?"
"I..."
Qingbo's mouth opened slightly, and the memory of the man-made disaster gradually blurred.
"Master, if there were evil spirits, the refugees would probably be dead."
"Same."
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Mingshan warned: "Although the plague in Xiqi will not affect the monks before we leave, we must be careful. After more than half a month, the plague will inevitably become more severe."
"If Xiqi is in danger, I will send Buddha Wuma alone."
"I know, Master."
Qing Po scratched his arm unconsciously, and there were inconspicuous tears in the skin, but there was no blood flowing, instead it looked...layered.
The Taoist robe covered her skin, and her expression returned to normal.
………
The black cat ran faster and faster against the wind, and the three of them were silent.
A trace of anxiety flashed in Mingshan's eyes. As Xiqi got closer, he seemed to have foreseen the scene of a mountain of corpses and a sea of bones.
With the power of the plague formation, more than half of Xiqi's million mortals would probably die.
Uncle Nezha does have great magical powers, but he is not good at setting up formations. Facing Lu Yue, he can only run for his life, let alone break the Wenhuang formation.
It’s hard to imagine how to deal with hundreds of thousands of corpses?
Mingshan's breathing is heavy, and the mountains of corpses and seas of bones cannot be completely burned. If it is not relieved in time, an acquired Yin vein will form in minutes.
"If the ghosts from the underworld descend completely, how many evil spirits will breed?"
"You have to be a secret soldier in the aisle in broad daylight, right?"
"Master, it's Xiqi!"
Mingshan raised his eyes to look at the end of the official road, and then froze in disbelief. A bustling capital city of the Zhou Dynasty came into view.
The city gates were open, and people were walking through the streets and alleys with smiles on their faces.
The seller's cries were loud and clear.
Candles are lit in every house, unfinished bacon before the New Year is drying in the window, and operas sung in teahouses are endless.
The officers and soldiers did not stop the refugees and brought them into Xiqi in an orderly manner.
"Master."
Qingsong asked in an absurd tone: "Is there any plague in Xiqi? Or has the plague been eliminated in the city?"
"I... don't understand either."
The two looked at each other, and at this moment the stone statue shone with warm light.
The black cat stopped.
The stone statue came to life.
Yang He's Niwan Palace no longer made a muffled sound, and most of the three Yang Fires were extinguished. In order to refine the insects and ghosts, Yang's life span was only two or three months.
"Vulture Buddha, do you think there is still a plague in Xiqi now?"
"Of course."
Yang He looked around at the three masters and apprentices, and paused for a few breaths on Qingbo.
Qingbo had been meditating with his eyes closed during the journey, and his energy was slightly depressed. He only woke up when he saw Xiqi.
"But how serious the plague is can only be known by entering the city."
Yang He couldn't help but recite "Millions of mortals can become immortals" several times. What immortals did Li Qi mention?
"Mingshan, I won't force you to decide whether to enter Xiqi or not. After all, once you set foot in Xiqi, it will be difficult to get out."
"Go."
Mingshan said categorically, "If the Wenhuang Formation is wreaking havoc on Xiqi, what's the point of living outside? Moreover, the station of Chanjiao in Xiqi is very hidden, and it is difficult to find the exact location just by dictating it."
"Qingsong Qingbo you..."
Qingsong said quickly: "Master, we both want to do our best."
Mingshan was very embarrassed and hesitated to ask Yang He.
"Let's go together. If you are alone in the acquired realm, you will definitely die."
Yang He nodded slightly.
He still couldn't figure out the plague in Xiqi. The symptoms shown by Qingbo were probably related. The most important thing was that it was really unsafe outside the city.
Yang He glanced around the outside of the city and saw dozens of mass graves, large and small.
The mass graves are distributed very cleverly, forming special piles, and tens of thousands of corpses have been bred and formed.
The Wenhuang Formation is interconnected, and Yang He is definitely incapable of breaking it.
Jiang Taigong should be able to detect the clues.
Yang He turned into a stone statue again, and the black cat got into the shadow under his feet.
Mingshan understood immediately, and dressed as a craftsman carving stone statues, he and Qingsong carried Yang He in tandem, while Qingbo followed behind in a daze.
Yang He's eyes were as bright as a torch, and he was distracted in refining the reborn copper coin sword.
The copper coin sword shuttles between flesh and bones, and the whole thing is no different from a living thing. The one hundred and eight copper coins are like scales, and the red lines are like blood vessels.
"I still don't have enough cultivation, the pseudo-yin treasure is the upper limit of my current control."
The copper coin sword raised its tip, and its behavior was somewhat similar to that of a bug ghost.
"Haha."
"I wonder if we can deceive the other plague messengers."
(End of chapter)