Spring copy

"You are kind to me, but you hinder me. So Moonlight King, why don't you die, and let me be fulfilled."

Vaguely, Na Xu seemed to hear someone whispering.

For a long time, his throat overflowed with a cough, which was very light, not like a cough, but more like a sigh.

Mo Ya came back to himself in fear, and fell off the bed violently, covered in cold sweat.

"Mo Ya?" The door opened suddenly, and Di Ting came in and looked at the bed, imagining the real body of the beast, and said angrily, "You never believe what you say."

Mo Ya sucked in a long breath, feeling that the wound on his wrist was healing.Sure enough, it wasn't his consciousness just now, but that damn Tai Sui.

After a while, he collapsed to the ground and laughed out of nowhere: "If you said it wasn't me just now, would you believe it?"

It is Tai Sui's sorcery and evil sect, and he is ready to move from time to time, and almost has a demonic aura.

You can't die, you can't hide from it.He had to live on his last breath.

Di Ting didn't speak, and returned to his human body full of vigilance.

"I'm going to get out, get out soon." Mo Ya sighed and stood up from the ground.

"Very well, if you can't walk, I can call Gao Shou to carry you."

"No need." Mo Ya shook his hand and stood upright against the wall, "Generally speaking, a masochist can walk around before he dies."

Di Ting just stood there and bit his mouth, obviously conflicted, but those happy eyes were still crooked.

"Go by yourself, and you will die soon." Finally he couldn't bear it.

"Don't worry, I will try to die as far away as possible, so that the monk won't find out."

"You promise not to pester Nasu again."

After hearing this, Mo Ya stopped in his tracks, turned his head slowly, and glanced at Na Xu who was still asleep.

Listening anxiously, he quickly repeated: "You have to promise not to pester the monk again, he has lost his heart because of you, and his narrow escape should be enough!"

"Don't worry." Finally, Mo Ya breathed out: "I won't come back again, and I won't give that thing in my body another chance to strangle him to death. Absolutely, no."

The last four words contained iron. Although he didn't swear, Ting Ting could feel the weight inside.

"Okay. I can listen to my heart. What you said is true." After being silent for a while, Di Ting finally made up his mind: "Since you are true, then I will help you."

"How can you help me, use that tin rod to smash my heavenly spirit cap?"

"Help you control that thing in your body."

This sentence obviously caused Mo Ya to look sideways.

"I hate you very much, but You Guang...you can't die in vain." Hearing the conclusion, he turned to look at Gao Shou: "I'll go with Mo Ya, take care of the monk, don't follow, absolutely don't, just wait here Follow me!"

"You changed your mind and are going to come back and be ridden by me instead of elope with that bastard?"

Seeing Di Ting, Ksitigarbha half-closed his eyes and shook his legs.

Di Ting was a little guilty, and stretched out his little finger to pick his ear.

"So you still came to beg me." Soon the King of Tibet sighed again, leaning forward to look at him: "Very well, what are you going to trade this time, your people or your heart?"

Di Ting coughed twice quickly.

"Although this benefactor is about to die of illness, his appearance is very good, very good." Ksitigarbha got off his seat and walked around Mo Ya twice: "Well, if you leave him as a mount for me, I will help You once, what do you want, or prison water? Damn, if I hadn’t opened my eyes and closed my eyes, could you have stolen it last time?”

"A Bodhisattva is a Bodhisattva, and his capacity is extraordinary!"

"Bodhisattva, what a fart!" Ksitigarbha took a sip, circled Mo Ya again, suddenly paused, stretched out his hand, and pinched Mo Ya's meridian: "Who are you? What's in your body?"

Mo Ya had been suffering from high and low fevers for more than ten days, and it was a miracle that he was able to stand up at this moment, so he just held it and didn't say a word.

"Tai Sui." At the mention of this name, Ksitigarbha, with disheveled hair and no wind, took out his judge's pen from his sleeve, and swished it across Mo Ya's heart.

"I hope that the Bodhisattva's magic power will be so powerful that it will destroy me and that thing together." Mo Ya spread his hands and exposed his chest.

Ksitigarbha let out a cry, his eyes were about to burst, but he hesitated for a long time, but finally he didn't make a move.

Mo Ya is right, Tai Sui is attached to him now, which is equivalent to being locked in a cage. He can kill this mortal by raising his hand, but it cannot destroy Tai Sui's soul. Killing his host is equivalent to opening him. The prison door, but let him go free.

"It's a pity that the Moonlight King is dead. Even if he is not dead, he has lost the anger of his clan." After struggling for a long time, the Ksitigarbha King tremblingly put down his pen.

"The Bodhisattva can imprison me, then ambush and kill Pixiu." Mo Ya raised his head.

"Fart, if I had this ability, I wouldn't have been harmed by those monsters back then... I don't care if I don't mention it. Listen, take him away as soon as possible, the farther the better!"

"Back then, Tai Sui and Pixiu were really invincible?"

"If it weren't for being invincible, do you think the gods would act like turtles and give up the opportunity of punishing evil and promoting good to be praised by everyone?!"

"Then they were in the same heart back then?" Mo Ya chased after him again.

A bodhisattva is a bodhisattva after all, with a deep root of wisdom, he immediately understood three points, and took a deep look at Mo Yan.

"But now I hate him, I wish I could eat his marrow and eat his flesh." Mo Ya immediately caught up: "Bodhisattva only needs to help me control Tai Sui's consciousness, then maybe I can use his power to die with that Pixiu .”

"That requires a lot of willpower on your part."

"I'm a rascal. I was beaten when I was a child. When I was ten years old, I could hang my feet with a steel wire and do pull-ups. Five hundred of them were exchanged for a bowl of bad rice."

Ksitigarbha stopped talking and stroked his beard, obviously moved.

"It's not that there is no way." After a while, Ksitigarbha said, "But you don't know, this way..."

"I know."

"You know shit."

"One day, Bai Ze once told me that I would suffer from the pain of being burned in oil." Mo Ya lowered his head with no expression on his face: "I knew it when I walked in here. It turns out that this oil pan is Yours is the famous Ksitigarbha.”

"I've always hated you." Standing beside the frying pan, he listened and scratched his ears.

"I know."

"But You Guang, you can't die in vain." Saying this, Di Ting put down the iron hook: "After thinking about it, his dead root is still in Pixiu, so you must succeed."

Mo Ya didn't speak, just stared at the frying pan in a daze.

It was an ordinary large iron pot with rusted edges, a large diameter but not deep, buried about waist high.

The oil inside has been filled, very light yellow, and occasionally there will be one or two bubbles.

"I'll use this iron hook to tie your waist..."

Before Di Ting finished speaking, Mo Ya had already grabbed the tip of the hook and pointed it at his left shoulder.

"This should be the standard shape of the frying pan." With a puff, the iron hook pierced into the flesh and came out through the back shoulder, and Mo Ya knocked on the iron chain it was connected to: "Please hang me up, and then I will hang me up again." Throw it into the pot. Although I am a pervert, I still don’t have the guts to step into the pot by myself.”

Di Ting then exerted his strength, dragging him all the way to the top of the pot.

The blood on Mo Ya's shoulder fell down the iron hook, fell into the oil pan, and splashed out of Lao Gao with a sizzling sound.

Di Ting's hand holding the iron chain hesitated.

"You Guang can't die in vain. His death is actually my fault." That side Mo Ya said softly, "My hands are covered in blood, and it's not worth your hesitation at all."

Di Ting then let go, the iron chain fell with a clatter, the oil pan splashed with waves, and with a splash, calm returned immediately.

——This frying pan is specially designed to fry ghosts and ghosts, and the soul will be dissipated very quickly. Although it can't kill Tai Sui, it can at least make him weak, lose consciousness, and no longer control your body.

——Of course, the longer you stay, the better the effect. The premise is that you must be sober and not lose to him, let his consciousness gain the upper hand, and come out to destroy my dungeon.

Before coming over, Ksitigarbha made it very clear that Mo Ya also felt that he would be able to survive, so he prepared a song of about 4 minutes for himself.

Lu Binghua.

Although the warmth he has gained in this life is very limited, he always remembers the way Chubby followed him with drooling face, and the scoop of unpalatable cod liver oil that was force-fed by his mother every night.

Why is memory so humble, he can remember the fishy smell of cod liver oil, but he can't remember the face of his biological mother.

When her right eye was punched into a bloody hole by myself, she still had no memory of it at all.

So there is no need to blame others, no matter what kind of retribution he receives, it is not wronged, not at all.

Thinking of this, he hummed a piece of music in half, and as before, focused on an irrelevant place, the shoes of Di Ting, competing with a piece of dirt on it.

The frying pan started to make a sizzling sound, and Mo Ya's hand was holding on to the iron chain, but the fingernails began to curl and deform even though they were not immersed in the frying pan.

"You killed your parents and watched your younger brother being raped by a fat man?"

Be able to listen to the truth of the heart and listen to what is said at this time.

So Mo Ya didn't look at his shoes, but looked up at him, feeling countless fireworks flashing in the air, each one a magnified pain, scorching and burning, burning through everything.

"Pull me up."

"Answer me yes!"

"Pull me... up."

"Scumbags like you should be blown into powder, into foam!"

The conversation was meaningless at this point, Mo Ya could only hold his breath, gather his strength, pull the iron chain by himself, and use his strength to leave the frying pan.

The oil splashed everywhere, and the muddy floor of the underworld was smooth, but Mo Ya's body was covered in bruises, his whole body was mottled, and there was nowhere to see.