Supernatural: a Poor Monk Becomes Stronger when He Crosses a Ghost

Hong Yi let out an exasperated roar, glanced at the resentful ghost master who was beyond recognition by himself, and directly poured his spiritual power into the scalpel, killing her with two knives.

Amitabha!

Never play this again!

It's too testy to have wood!

Can't take it off at all!

However, this ghost master is quite interesting, and it even exploded!

And the explosion is quite strange!

A green doll.

Wraith Doll: A small doll treasured by the Wraith Lord, which can transform any horror scene.

Amitabha!

Hong Yi stuffed the doll into the bag.

Can transform any horror scene, what's the use?Watching a movie?

"Nanling benefactor?" Hong Yi put all the tools on, and now the master of the ghost had turned into a puff of smoke and disappeared.

She turned her head towards the donor Nan Ling who was lying on the tombstone and said:

"We should go!"

"It's scary in the wild!"

Nan Ling, who had just regained her breath, heard the words from the monk behind her, and she couldn't help but bruise her forehead.

What did this monk just say?

Scary in the wild?

Are you scary anymore?Skin the ghost!That's what you can do.

After the whole village became a mass grave, Hong Yi couldn't tell the direction, so he could only walk out along the edge of the cemetery.

Fortunately, the entrance to the mass grave was finally found.

And this entrance is the entrance to the village just now.

"Overseas Chinese Widow Village!"

The village monument before entering the village is still standing, but there are two more words.

"Overseas Widow Village Cemetery!"

Hongyi speechlessly smashed the village monument into pieces.

Why wasn't there the word "cemetery" just now?

"Where's the poor monk's horse?" Hong Yi circled around the entrance of the mass grave, stood in front of a stone pillar, and said gloomily:

"Is there a ghost?"

"How dare you steal the poor monk's horse?"

"Here... the one who stole your horse is there, your old acquaintance..." Nan Ling patted Hong Yi's shoulder and pointed to the mass grave.

Hong Yi turned his head to look.

Sure enough, a hunched, silver-haired old lady squatted in front of a tombstone with her white horse tied beside her.

"Amitabha!"

"The poor monk, go and have a look, Nanling, you are waiting here."

Hong Yi angrily walked towards the old lady who collected the bills.

That's right, the silver-haired person squatting in front of the grave is the old lady who was treated by Hong Yi at the door just now.

Just haven't gotten to it yet.

A hoarse, low voice was heard.

"Old man... This resentful ghost master is finally dead..."

"Finally, we people don't have to suffer from her anymore."

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuen example please."

"I just don't know what happened to the little monk. You wait for the old lady to return the horse to him, then go to the grave to accompany you!"

After Hong Yi heard this, his footsteps paused.

"Amitabha!"

Putting his hands together, he bowed to the old lady.

The old lady turned around, her face no longer had the terrifying look, but it was still ravaged and wrinkled.

"Little monk, it's good for you to live, and the old man would like to thank you!"

Saying that, the old lady knelt down directly to Hong Yi.