Before his death, my grandfather left me an old house in the mountains, saying that the roots of our family were hidden there.
I resigned from 996 and went to open a B&B in that damn place, thinking that I would be fine if I lost all my money.
On the first day of business, there was heavy rain and road closures, and there was a knock on the door in the middle of the night. No one opened the door, but there was a small wet footprint on the threshold.
I stood in the rain holding a bowl of Yangchun noodles: "Have you been hungry for hundreds of years? Come out and eat noodles, don't soak my doorstep."
The old locust tree in the corner trembled, and a translucent little ghost emerged and looked at me timidly.
Later I learned that this old house was built at the junction of yin and yang at 30 degrees north latitude, and had been dedicated to receiving passing souls for more than a hundred years. And my ancestors have kept a secret from generation to generation——
In the mountain to the north, there is a door leading to the Yin and Yang Realm.
The door collapsed.
Three thousand seven hundred and forty-two dead souls couldn't get through, and they were all stuck here waiting for a bowl of noodles.
And my new little follower asked me while helping me carry the bowl:
"Silence, they drank the noodles and left, what about me?"
