When Zhao Yu saw me approaching, the sound of his xiao finally stopped. Looking at the inscription on the wooden tablet, which read "Tong Sanjin," I sighed, took out incense and candles, lit them, and placed them before it.
Tong Sanjin's death had dealt a heavy blow to Zhao Yu and the Liao brothers. In such a short time, they had built a unique bond between humans and the dead. I had never experienced anything like it, but I knew the purity of their friendship.
Unfortunately, Granny Ghost was neither wholly righteous nor wholly evil. She should have been protecting only me. Otherwise, if she had been able to strike first back then, perhaps Tong Sanjin would not have had to die.
"Old Tong once said that, in these thousand years, this had been the happiest period of his life. He had friends and brothers, a woman in his arms, and could sing and drink at night. So I told him that from then on, we'd live like this." Zhao Yu sat down on the ground. His normally carefree face now held a trace of melancholy.
"He said that was good. He wanted to settle down, make money, and support his wife. I laughed my head off at the time. That guy was the Corpse King, yet he actually wanted to live like a modern person..." Zhao Yu laughed.
"Exactly. That guy was a silent lecher. He usually didn't like talking, but whenever it mattered, he went straight to action. Hahaha." After hearing this, Liao Hong couldn't help laughing too, but when he looked at the grave mound, he felt that those days would never return.
"He played on computers, drove luxury cars, and learned all about how airplanes worked. What a pity. Sanjin's mouth was a little sharp, but