Food gives me an entry, I will be invincible if I stay alive

Chapter 67 Please Write a Poem for the Ghost

Ghostly realm.

Chen Xu stood beside Wu Zhengze, listening to him explain the existence of the Ghost Spirit Realm, but his heart was pounding.

It turned out that at the moment when the ancient dusk plain turned into a ghost market under the moon, Chen Xu's "status" on Shi Ding Tian Shu's personal panel changed again.

[Current Status: 80% of Talent Awakening]

In just a moment, the progress of the awakening of supernatural powers, which had been increasing gradually, was greatly accelerated.

The ghost realm seems scary, but at this moment Chen Xu only feels mysterious and magical in his heart, and is not afraid at all.

He had also dreamed of a ghost market, and the ghost market in his dream was naturally very different from the one in front of him.

Dreams are messy, but the ghost market in front of me actually has logic.

After Wu Zhengze finished speaking, the people who were fleeing in panic seemed to be stunned by his words. For a moment, everyone stood there in a daze as if they were under a spell.

But someone suddenly pushed aside the left and right and rushed out of the crowd, then knelt on the ground and cried bitterly: "Sir, save me, please save me!"

"Sir, if you can save me, my family has some small fortune... No, my clan has one Jinshi and three Xiucai. If you can save me, my clan will definitely reward you handsomely."

As soon as these words were spoken, it was like a loud gong, waking everyone up.

More and more people reacted and asked Wu Zhengze for help.

"Sir, save me..."

"I am willing to offer a hundred gold coins..."

But Wu Zhengze couldn't save anyone. He said, "In the Ghost Realm, no one can save anyone else. But there is a way out here. Every Ghost Realm has a Ghost Order.

As long as you follow the rules of the Ghost Order, there may be hope."

As soon as the words fell, a faint laughter suddenly rang out.

"It turns out there is someone here who knows what he's doing..." The voice was mournful and ethereal, as if carried by a gust of wind.

When the wind blows, a beautiful woman under the moonlight is walking towards you at the other end of the long street.

Half of her face was beautiful and sad, the other half was bony and white, and beneath her skirt, her feet were bare.

Dark red flesh with horrific burn marks came closer step by step. Every time it got closer, everyone present felt their heartbeats quicken.

It seemed as if some strange drum beats were beating in everyone's hearts, as if they were about to make their blood swell and their hearts burst.

Finally, someone couldn't bear it any longer and shouted, "Don't come over here! Stop..."

Boom!
That was the sound of the skeleton beauty's footsteps stopping, and it also sounded like the heartbeats of everyone.

But the woman finally stopped.

She stopped, tilted her head, and faced everyone with her beautiful profile. She said, "What are you doing? I'm not that rude ghost. I won't eat people casually. What are you afraid of?
Alas, would you rather be eaten than pick out a few favorite things in this ghost market?"

At this point, Chen Xu suddenly had an idea and reacted immediately.

Chang Song, who was standing next to him, also realized what was happening and blurted out, "Since this is a ghost market, does that mean we can leave here just by buying something there?"

"Yes, since we have met by chance, how can we let this passerby go away empty-handed?"

The Bone Beauty tilted her head and chuckled softly: "Wouldn't that make it seem like there's nothing in my ghost market..."

The ghost girl suddenly turned her face to the other side, and her tone suddenly changed to sharp: "Is there anything useful?"

"Hehehe..."

She smiled.

Amidst the eerie white bones, a burst of ghostly fire seemed to suddenly burst out from the empty eye sockets.

The cold burning sensation caused another scream from the crowd. Someone shouted, took a few steps back, and fell to the ground.

Coincidentally, the person who fell down was the one who had previously made fun of Chang Song for his "short-sightedness".

But even though he lost his composure this time, Chang Song did not laugh back.

No one at the scene laughed at him.

No, no one laughed at him, but the ghosts laughed at him.

"Hee hee hee……"

“Ehhhh…”

Under the pale moonlight, paper lanterns fluttered and swayed.

On both sides of the long street, behind the dimly lit stalls, groups of shadowy figures swayed with laughter.

Suddenly, a head rolled down.

A short figure hurried out from behind the stall, picked up the head, and put it around his neck. The Skeleton Beauty sneered at him, "You're so naughty."

The short figure stayed obediently behind the stall, head down and silent.

All the living people on the long street dared not say a word.

The White-Bone Beauty pointed at Chang Song and said, "Come here and take a look. Is there anything here that catches your eye?"

Chang Song's lips trembled, but he mustered up the courage to stride out and asked, "I, I don't know what I should use to settle the bill. I only have five ounces of silver on me."

"No, you still have your eyes, your ears, your tongue, your limbs, your internal organs... hehehe."

"I, I..." Chang Song stepped back in horror, unable to maintain his composure any longer.

Just as he was about to fall to the ground, a hand suddenly reached out from behind and supported his back.

Chang Song turned his head hurriedly and saw a face that was not familiar but looked familiar.

It was Chen Xu who was behind him and gave him a helping hand at the right time.

Somehow, when he saw the other person's calm eyes, Chang Song's panic suddenly subsided a little.

But Chang Song was too busy thanking her now. He heard the ghost say faintly, "Of course, you can also write a poem for the stall owner of the item you chose.

Weren't you gathered here just now to hold a poetry reading?
Since this poetry gathering can compose poetry for humans, it can also compose poetry for ghosts."

Write poems for ghosts!

Everyone present breathed a sigh of relief.

That’s great, it’s just writing poetry. Who here can’t write poetry?
Chang Song was no longer afraid. He straightened his back and strode to a stall.

This was a stall he chose at random. In fact, the items sold in these stalls were all similar and strange, and Chang Song had no idea how to choose.

He could only pick from that pile of——

Bloody leather scrolls, beating human eyeballs, twisted white silk threads...

Bone needles, skull masks, black paper umbrellas, rusty copper coins...

He randomly picked out a handful of wheat ears that looked less scary, and said calmly, "I'll choose this. Could you please tell me, stall owner, what poem do you want me to write?"

Behind the stall, the shadow uttered a hoarse, vicissitudes of life voice: "I am a tenant farmer. When I was ten years old, my father fell ill and my family sold three acres of land.

When I was 23 years old, my son was hit on the head by the young master of the landlord in the neighboring village. In order to save my son, I sold two acres of land.

When I was thirty, my wife had a difficult childbirth, so I sold two acres...

Later I lost my land and became a tenant farmer.

Later, the harvest was poor that year, and in order to save food for my children and grandchildren, I starved to death.

This life is so dry and boring, opening and closing my eyes again and again.

Unexpectedly, after I became a ghost, some scholars wrote poems for me.

Hey, scholar, just write about me."

Chang Song placed his hands at his sides, clenched them, and then released them.

He never expected that he would be moved by the ordinary experience of a ghost in his life.

He was also glad that he came from a poor family and wrote poems about farmers every day, so he didn't need to rack his brains to create new poems at this time.

Just choose a poem from your daily poems and change a few words.

Then, under the gaze of everyone, Chang Song bowed and said in a loud voice: "I will write a poem for you, old man.

Who would remember this old man if he died of starvation? He once worked in the soil with a small piece of land.

Pitiable hunger is of no use, it will only cut off your own path to eternal life."

After finishing a poem, Chang Song's heart was pounding.

Note: Today's poem has been revised. The author ended up writing it randomly. It's not well written, and there may be some errors in the rhythm and format. I hope readers will forgive me. If anyone who understands poetry has some free time, it would be great if they could help correct it. Thank you.

Before the modification, Chang Song's poem came from the Tang Dynasty, "Farmer's Family" by Yan Yuren. The book borrowed it and claimed it as Chang Song's original work, with an explanation in the text attached.

Some fellow Taoists pointed out that it is inappropriate for ordinary students to continue using the masterpieces of the ancients.

That's the reason. After that, the author tried to use ds to write a poem. ds gave me a poem called "Ploughing the Fields on a Sunny Day" and said it was his own original poem...

Well, it’s worthy of being DS, its ability to talk nonsense is invincible in the world, and the most important thing is that AI does not need a face, anything can be original to it.

In the end, the author had to bite the bullet and do it himself. The author's ability is limited and his poetry is lacking. I pray for your tolerance and thank you for your kindness.

Finally, let me ask you a question: do you want the protagonist to plagiarize famous works openly, or do you want the author to use famous works as if they were the protagonist's own? Of course, it is impossible to expect the author to write a world-shaking masterpiece for the protagonist.

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(End of this chapter)