The next day, Zhang Zheng followed her husband to the private school to give lectures as usual. When Yinshi left school, her husband only asked her not to wander around in the past few days, then left the private school and headed towards the village chief's residence.

Zhang Zheng looked at her husband's retreating back, thoughtfully closed the courtyard door tightly, turned around and entered the private room of the private school.

The bookshelves made of brown wood were put together, a total of 139 shelves, and only three shelves were empty.

Zhang Zheng glanced at it and saw numbers written in cinnabar on the spine of the book. From seven to nine thousand seven thousand four hundred and eighty six, not a single number was missing.

These are all the written reflections left by the gentlemen of Zhidao Village from ancient times to the present. Just looking at the books, they are dust-free on the shelf and bright and clean, but the simple and rich atmosphere is rushing towards my face, carrying millions of people.

The dust from years ago is scattered and settled now.

Zhang Zheng no longer hesitated. When he had doubts, he went to seek confirmation. He placed his slender white fingers on a book and pulled it out with a slight force.

"Lu Si and Lu Erliang returned and left a letter..."

With respect, Zhang Zheng opened the first page of the book. His eyes fell on the page without any tear marks, and his eyes suddenly sparkled.

The tremor became more intense as thousands of rows of small characters came into view, until the ink stopped on the last page. Zhang Zheng suddenly closed the book, and then his eyes were closed tightly, and the beautiful distant mountain eyebrows were tangled.

pain.

"My husband lived seven hundred years, and I stopped at three hundred. I am ashamed, ashamed, sad, and mournful. How old will my descendants be? When they die at the age of a hundred, how many people will be sacrificed? Thinking of this makes my heartache incomprehensible.

That’s it.”

Life span is seven hundred...and ends at three hundred...

Zhang Zheng recalled that her husband had told her that each husband would abdicate after a hundred years. Since he was not a cultivator, there was no possibility of his lifespan being much longer than that of an ordinary person. Why could the owner of this book live to be three hundred years old? His husband could even live to the age of three hundred.

To seven hundred years?

From what he said, it can be roughly inferred that the lifespan of the gentlemen before him was even more than 700. The lifespan of each gentleman was decreasing. By his time, it was only 300, and it will become increasingly longer after that.

few.

This can also explain why the gentleman said that he only has 100 years of service, but...

What kind of power allows them as mortals to live such a long life?

The teacher once said that every gentleman who takes the surname will receive the legacy left by the first gentleman after he became enlightened and became an immortal, and his appearance will never grow old.

So, is this reason for longevity also a gift from the first gentleman?

Zhang Zheng has never seen the abilities of immortals, so he doesn't know whether extending the life span of mortals can be the power of immortals.

Even if this is true, Zhang Zheng's frown has not calmed down at all. What does it mean by "how many sacrifices should be made" in the scroll? Why does it make the owner of the scroll feel heartbroken?

The word "sacrifice" is often associated with offering sacrifices to ancestors. The "sacrifice" here refers to the people participating in the sacrifice, or is it a sacrifice like "six animal sacrifices"?

Reason told Zhang Zheng that the answer was the latter, which was why she was so horrified.

"gentlemen?"

The village chief's voice suddenly sounded outside the door, with a hint of doubt. Zhang Zheng's heart beat like a drum. He quickly put the scroll back to its original place and picked up the feather duster in the corner.

After calming down, Zhang Zheng opened the door calmly and said with a smile: "Sir is out. The village chief has something to do with him? Do you want Zhang Zheng to help the village chief find him?"

Seeing the feather duster in her hand, the village chief put aside his suspicion and glanced behind her calmly.

"It's okay, it's nothing serious. You can clean up the house by yourself. I'll go back right away."

After taking a few steps, the village chief suddenly turned back and added with a smile: "Don't wander around the village in the past few days. The five guys who were left in the village yesterday were not very peaceful. Please pay attention to safety."

Zhang Zheng smiled and responded, "I understand, village chief, and so do you."

As soon as the village chief left, Zhang Zheng simply opened the door wide, turned around and pretended to sweep the dust on the bookshelf and corners of the room with a feather duster.

The movements of her hands were neat, but Zhang Zheng's expression was a little absent-minded. She clearly watched her husband go in the direction of the village chief's residence. There was only one family in that direction, so why did the village chief come here to look for his husband again?

My husband is not a person who likes to wander around. In addition to his private school and dormitory, the place he goes to most often is the village chief and his ancestral land. If my husband did not go to find the village chief, where did she go?

The door of the private school was ajar. The village chief was half-crouched, with his flabby face pressed against the door. He looked into the inner room through the crack in the door, his cloudy eyes full of worry.

After a while, he straightened up and left this place quietly. The sunset dragged his slender and thin shadow, one step heavy and one brisk, half worried, half happy, and full of shame.

Zhang Zheng, who had his back to the courtyard door, moved his hands, put the feather duster aside, and closed the door to the inner room again.

In the middle of the night, jackdaws landed on the half-withered branches of late autumn. The branches were stained with the ink color of the night, and the black crows screamed sadly.

"clatter--"

The last volume was put back on the bookshelf intact, but his slender fingers lingered on the cinnabar words on the spine.

Zhang Zheng's complicated and difficult-to-discern gaze lingered on the large vermilion characters on the spine of the book - "Qi".

This is the smallest number on the bookshelf, and in the book left by the seventh gentleman, he actually spent three thousand years in Zhidao Village, and so did the gentlemen after him.

The first gentleman whose life span declined was the 973rd gentleman. His life ended at the age of 2,900, and the life span of each subsequent gentleman decreased.

The word "sacrifice" has already appeared in the seventh gentleman's letters. Later, gentlemen often mentioned it in his letters. Although they were not mentioned in detail, it is not difficult to guess from the lines of the words.

The word "ji" indeed means "sacrifice".

His fingers unconsciously pressed on his knuckles. In the dim candlelight, Zhang Zheng's eyes were dark and deep, reflecting the deep pool in the cold mountains.

The sentence "The student is willing to take on the role of teacher" that he finally said after hesitating at first and after many mental struggles seemed like a big joke now.

The fire of anger at being deceived was so strong that it almost burned through her heart. The mentor she respected and loved had always wanted to make her a sacrifice!

After taking the surname, she will become a real sacrifice, reduced to a lamb to be slaughtered, with the butcher's knife hanging above her head. When a hundred years are up, the butcher's knife will fall on her neck.

Sacrificing people to bring peace to Zhidao Village.

Burning with anger, Zhang Zheng more than once had the idea to push open the door, rush to her husband, and sternly scold her for what she was thinking, or stop caring and tear the peace of this village paved with blood into pieces.

But I put my hand on the door several times, but Zhang Zheng pulled it off forcefully. I couldn't do this. Even if it was just to avoid arousing suspicion, I couldn't act so recklessly.

and……

There is still something fishy about everything...

Zhang Zheng forced herself to sit down where she was, sitting cross-legged, calming down and reciting the Jingxin Jue attentively.

There are only a few stars at night, crossing the sky, and the rooster crows and the first red sun hangs in the sky.

My husband was the first to step into the private school. His plain black clothes were stained with morning dew and felt particularly cool against his soft and warm skin.

Standing in the courtyard with a slender and straight figure, her lips were slightly curled upwards, and her eyes were smiling, falling on the locked door of the inner room, as if through the wall tiles and old wood, landing on the cross-legged figure sitting on the ground.

On top of the thin figure.
Chapter completed!