"Xing'er, walk slowly on the road to the underworld and look back at the miserable mother..."

In a suffocating darkness, Yang Zhijun vaguely heard a woman crying. The sound seemed to be close to you, and it seemed to be far away from the world.

Yang Zhijun, whose consciousness gradually awakened, was still groggy, and his memory was full of burning eyes and endless heat at the moment when the bomb exploded. "It turns out that this is how I feel when I was hit by a bomb, boom! There was a loud bang, and then I couldn't see anything or hear..."

Yang Zhijun, who gradually woke up, remembered what happened before the bombing. "Oh, I failed. I wonder if the hostages were rescued. Did the undercover explode with me?"

"Woooooo... Xing'er, my miserable child, you are only fourteen years old, God is going to take it away. What will you do if you let your helpless mother do in the future?!"

"Hey, is there a woman crying? Which one is Xing'er? I definitely didn't cry!" Yang Zhijun, who was already awake, was puzzled. "Can you be lying in the morgue? Is it a memorial service? Damn it! Am I alive or sacrificed? Who will tell me!" Yang Zhijun was engaged in a fierce ideological struggle-"If I were alive, I could not see anything and feel nothing. If I died, how could I still hear other people's voices? Could it be that I really became a soul body?"

Suddenly, a burst of footsteps came from outside, and a fierce voice sounded from far to near: "The Zhao Si family, are you ready to rent from our Master Huang? Today is the last date. If you deny it again, burn your house and sell your body!"

"Yes, if you dare to default, I will take you to see the official now!" Another duck's voice rang out.

"Damn, what place is this bully? Why is it like the dog-legged person of the Huang Shiren family in the old society?" Yang Zhijun was surprised when he heard the voices of the two men.

"Master Zheng, I would like to ask you to give me a few more days of grace," the woman begged, "Xing'er's father passed away last year, and his family borrowed money everywhere to bury him. This year's season is not good, and the food collected is not enough for Xing'er and I to live. It would be fine if I was suffering, but my hard work was cold and I went with his father in three or five days. To bury Xing'er, I even sold the scalpers in my life, and I really can't get a rent for now..."

"Coffin?" Yang Zhijun, whose body gradually regained consciousness, was able to raise his hand slowly. He was touching around. "It turned out to be in the coffin, no wonder he touched it squarely." Yang Zhijun, who had opened his eyes, but could not see anything, understood his situation a little.

"I heard from Zhao Si family that you are pitiful. You can kill people and pay your life, and you owe debts. If we servants don't ask you to collect rent, we can't pay Mr. Huang when we go back," said the male duck in a sinister voice.

"Looking at your bare walls, now you have become a widow. Why not put a deposit on this contract for sale? We will write off the previous debts. Later, we entered Mr. Huang's house and made a house to fill in the house, and we will be more frugal than starving and freezing all day long." The housekeeper Zheng continued to instigate.

Outside the coffin, two dog legs flew around, and continued to coerce and seduce the woman. Yang Zhijun inside the coffin had adjusted his breathing to see if he could open the lid of the coffin. "Damn it! He was actually nailed!" Yang Zhijun, who tried his best to not be able to open the lid of the coffin but sighed sadly.

Yang Zhijun was really anxious. Although the coffin was not fully sealed and air penetrated through the wooden cracks, he needed to go out immediately to figure out his current situation. It was really dangerous to lie in the coffin. If someone was carried out and buried, it would be too sad.

"Zhao Sijiadi, if you don't agree today, we have to use this coffin to pay off the debt first!" As soon as we came in, the evil god-like voice sounded again.

"No! My Xing'er is still inside! You kill thousands of swords, if you dare to touch my Xing'er, I will die in front of you!" The woman suddenly shouted like crazy.

The two of them were stunned for a moment and did not dare to do the next move. But Yang Zhijun quit in the coffin. "Do it quickly!" Yang Zhijun shouted loudly, "Let me go out!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Yang Zhijun tried his best to slap the inner wall of the coffin with his hands.

On this quiet night, the few people outside the coffin heard the banging sound coming from behind!

"Xing...Master Xing..., it seems that there is a sound, do you... you... hear it?" The man who was still vicious just now suddenly stumbled on his teeth and asked tremblingly.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Let me go out!" The voice behind me continued...

"What sound? Who is talking?" Butler Xing shivered and looked at the servant with a little guilty conscience. Although he also heard the "bang" sound, he really didn't have the courage to turn around and look at the coffin.

"Uncle ***! Let me go out!" Yang Zhijun cursed loudly in the coffin, and the people outside heard this clearly.

"It's a zombie!" After a shocking scream, Mr. Xing ran away, followed by a servant who was pissing off.

"Xing'er, is it you?" A timid voice rang outside the coffin, "Don't scare my mother, I hear your voice."

"Oh, let's go out first, you can't scare the woman outside away." Yang Zhijun thought to himself. He heard the two men outside screaming and ran away, for fear of scaring the woman away again, so he had to say politely, "Miss outside, please ask someone to help open the lid of the coffin? I'm not dead yet!"

"It's really my Xing'er, it's really my Xing'er..." The woman outside the coffin kept muttering, not realizing that Yang Zhijun did not call her mother, and the words used in different ways. "Xing'er, please bear with it for a moment. Mom will go and call someone to help!"

After a while, when Yang Zhijun was lying in the coffin and was about to despair, he finally heard a group of people. "Zhao Sijiadi, your Xing'er is indeed alive? Isn't it a zombie?" The voices of several men rang out in a mixed manner.

"My family Xing'er is indeed alive, and he is still talking, not a zombie! Please help me, get him out quickly, I am so miserable... wuwu..." the woman begged.

"Zhao Sijia, don't cry, I, Zhao, will help you! On weekdays, Xing'er will call me uncle when she sees me. I don't believe he can come back and harm me!" A stout man's voice sounded.

"That's right, so many of us are so scared! Everyone should do it!" After another talk, with the efforts of everyone, the coffin that had been nailed was lifted and the lid was opened.

"I'm so mom! I'm finally seeing the sun again!" Yang Zhijun let out a sigh and said with emotion when he saw the moonlight leaking from his head. Then, he saw a group of curious and scared faces covering the light above his head.

When Yang Zhijun was carried out from the coffin by a group of people wearing ancient clothes, he was silent. Before he could cheer for his death, he was confused by his current situation.

In front of him was a group of people who spoke clearly differently from modern Mandarin and were wearing strange costumes. Zhao Xing kept asking himself, what was going on? But after he thought about it, it was difficult to make an accurate judgment! These people were obviously yellow people. Although they were difficult to understand, they could still understand them. They were definitely Chinese. But in addition to seeing these clothes in TV and movies, they had never seen anyone wearing them in reality.

"Everyone, do you guys bring me into extras, do my superiors know?" Zhao Xing asked guiltily. Because he knew that no company had the right to use special forces to be extras.

"What? What extra? Is this kid burned, right?" The middle-aged man named Zhao Dada put his hand on Zhao Xing's forehead and said to himself.

"Xing'er, why don't you thank you Uncle Zhao quickly. He saved you!" The woman's voice of Zhao Xing's already familiar voice finally rang again.

"What do you think of my name? Who is Xing'er?" Yang Zhijun made his last effort, and he prayed in his heart, "Oh my God, you must not be a ghost! I don't want to become another person!"

"Oh, Zhao Sijiadi, it seems that although your Xing'er has not died young, she is still confused." Zhao sighed boldly, "Friends, let's go back and let the two of them talk well...ah..."

At this moment, Yang Zhijun, who had always believed in the sayings of time travel and gods and ghosts, probably knew what was going on. He shouted in his heart: "God, you really want to play time travel with me! Just wear it. People wear it out and become rich and powerful, either the prince or the young master. Why did it become a coffin? It's still the poorest kind! How can you live if you tell me!"

"Well, I'm so tired, I want to sleep..." Yang Zhijun said awkwardly to the woman in front of him. When he heard the voice coming out of his body, which was obviously characterized by a voice change, Yang Zhijun couldn't help but want to go crazy.

"Oh, Xing'er, then you go to bed quickly!" The woman hurriedly covered Zhao Xing with a broken quilt with cotton exposed.

That night, looking at the thatched roof with the stars leaking, Yang Zhijun couldn't sleep. Perhaps only those who have traveled through time can experience the entanglement and confusion in his heart.

Before his death, Yang Zhijun was a professional soldier, leading a very combat-effective reconnaissance battalion. In a battle to rescue hostages and fight drug dealers in the Golden Triangle area, Yang Zhijun unfortunately died with the bandits tied to bombs. In that time and space, Yang Zhijun became a martyr; in this time and space, Yang Zhijun occupied the body of Zhao Xing, who had died and successfully completed a journey through time.
Chapter completed!