Celestial Masters Alliance

Grandma's house is not far from the old house, but the loess road is not easy to walk. The temperature difference between morning and evening is huge. At this time, the loess road has been exposed to the scorching sun for a whole day. The heat rises from the ground and goes straight into the pants leg. It feels like the hair on the legs is rising along with the loess on the ground. After a while, the new Jordan limited edition I bought accepted the favor of the dust, and I felt distressed.

After walking for about forty minutes, I didn't meet anyone. When I felt lonely and unbearable, I saw the shadow of the big locust tree. I haven't seen it for more than ten years. It seems to be more lush than I remembered, making the old house that was demolished to pieces even more desolate.

The cool breeze blew under the shade of the trees, and there were many yellow cloth strips hanging on the trees. On the cloth strips, there were some words written in cinnabar that I couldn't understand. I thought they were talismans. The strips of cloth swayed in the wind, making a "hu-la-la" sound, which was a little breathtaking, and I couldn't help but shudder.

I circled the locust tree, looking for the marks left by the buried time capsule. I remember that it was a big cross carved by Huang Xiao on the tree trunk with a knife. The mark is easy to find. It has grown almost as tall as me, but the cross that was white at the time has now turned yellow to light brown.

I put down my small bag and dug under the cross. The soil under the tree was much softer than I expected, and a big hole was dug out within a short time of shoveling. I began to suspect that the time capsule had been dug away long ago. Just when I was feeling discouraged, the small shovel hit an iron product with a clang. I was immediately delighted and quickly exposed the iron products to the air.

It was a biscuit box, the paint had long since peeled off, and it was entangled among the thick and thin roots of the tree. I had to dig a bigger hole to get the cookie box out from between the tree roots. The biscuit box exuded a strong irony and earthy smell. The smell was not good, and I had a hard time resisting the urge to vomit.

It has been completely deformed, and there is a large crack between the lid and the box body, which is probably caused by the growth and compression of tree roots. But this saved me a lot of trouble. I stuck a shovel between the gaps and pried it off gently, and the lid flew out. I looked at my childhood treasure with excitement.

A piece of white rosin wrapped in a broken paper bag must belong to Bai Xue. A small knife with no visible color and a ball of rust should belong to Huang Xiao. He loved to use the knife to rob.

I picked up a small blue cloth bag that was almost perfectly preserved in the iron box. This should belong to Zhao Shuang. I carefully opened the cloth bag, which was also wrapped in a layer of oil paper. It was wrapped very carefully. I smiled when I thought of Zhao Shuang's serious look when packing. Gently peeling off the oil paper, a silver bell the size of a pigeon egg fell out. Makes a crisp sound.

I hurriedly picked up the bell from the ground, blew off the dust stuck to the bell and took a closer look. This bell was extremely finely made, with each hollow pattern having subtle differences, and spiraling together like a small cage. Although the bell is small in the palm of your hand, it has a great texture. I don’t know what material it is made of. I wrapped the bell back in the cloth bag and put it into my small bag with the rosin knife. Take out your collection from the iron box with anticipation. Because I don't even remember what I put in it.

It was a cigarette box that had turned into mud. The tinfoil inside was intact. When the tinfoil was peeled off, what appeared in front of you was a Ruyi jade lock tied with a red ribbon. Memories suddenly hit my brain, and I remembered what flashed through my mind when I talked about my aunt two days ago. Before my father passed away, my aunt and family came to visit. My aunt called me aside when no one was around. She took out this piece of jade and put it around my neck, then stuffed it into my clothes. She repeatedly told me, "This is a very important thing. You must keep it well and don't let anyone see it." I agreed with my aunt and made an agreement with her.

A shrill wail pulled me back from my memories. The sound was like a sharp knife piercing my eardrums. My body froze instantly, with goosebumps everywhere, and the hairs on the back of my neck wanted to stand up. The wail rose all the way until my eardrums were on the verge of breaking. When I suspected that it had a higher note, it paused, turned sharply, and reached an unbearable bass. It was like the buzzing sound of bees flapping their wings, entering my brain. Then everything returned to silence, even the sound of the wind stopped.

My legs and feet were weak, and the hand holding the jade lock was trembling. I looked around in a panic, but saw nothing unusual. Could it be that I was hallucinating? I raised my hand and slapped my forehead hard. Damn it, I was scared of a bird in broad daylight. But when I looked through the gaps in the leaves at the mottled sky, my brain couldn't help but shrink violently. This scene is like what I saw in my nightmare when I was about to suffocate. Except that there are no large white petals floating down, even the smell in the air is the same. Oh my God! what happened!

I shook my head, relieved myself, and raised the jade lock in my hand to look at the sun. The ribbon feels a little damp in the hand, but it has not faded at all. The jade locks are crystal clear and full of moisture in the sunlight. Even though I don't know much about jade, I can tell that a jade lock is expensive and is an absolutely top-quality product. Why did my aunt give such valuable things to me as a child?

The wailing came again, this time less violently than before. But my hands and feet couldn't help but tremble again. I quickly put the jade lock into my trouser pocket, picked up the backpack and shovel on the ground, and planned to run away. When my hand passed by the hole I had just dug, a strong air flow rushed out of the hole. I had a flash of inspiration and seemed to understand how the crying sound was generated.

I circled around the locust tree again. I don't know whether it was out of curiosity or because I was possessed. I explored every hole I could see and found that there was air flowing out of it. Ha! It turns out that the big locust tree is a giant flute. I looked toward the top of the tree. I had to find where the air flow was coming from, otherwise this hypothesis would not be valid.

When I saw no one around, I took off my shoes and put my phone in my trouser pocket, just in case it was easier to climb the tree than it was to get down. Then he hid his shoes and bags on the dense branches and started climbing the tree to find out.

I was a good tree climber when I was a kid, but I haven't practiced my skills for many years and I still feel like I'm not getting used to it. Using my hands and feet, I climbed to the largest fork in the tree trunk. This place was at least twenty meters above the ground. The strong wind almost knocked me to the ground. After I stabilized myself, I was surprised to find that the tree stump had formed a cross-section here, like a platform, which was as big as four Eight Immortals tables. The branches stretched out from around the stump and spread out in all directions. The thickest branch was thicker than my waist, so looking up from below, you would never find the platform in the center of the tree trunk.

I landed on my hands and knees and lowered my body on the platform to avoid being blown over by the strong wind, and carefully surveyed this strange scene. The platform is not made by cutting off tree trunks, but by many vines intertwined together, with many hollow gaps in the middle. The scattered branches and leaves are like a pot that collects wind. All the wind blowing here is concentrated on the platform to form a vortex and poured into the inside of the tree stump. I guess the wind passed through the tree stumps and gushes out from the gaps in the tree roots, forming the shrill cry. The sound of the cry all depends on the strength of the wind.

I glanced at the half-demolished ruins. When the old house was intact, it blocked the north wind blowing against the locust trees in the open prairie. Now that the old house is gone, the locust trees began to cry. I cautiously sat down on the thickest tree branch to rest, rubbing my eyes that had been blown into the dust. Suddenly, there was a burning sensation in my trouser pocket, which startled me. I hurriedly took out what was in my trouser pocket and saw that it was a jade lock.