Wake Up, Stop Dreaming [Quick Transmigration]

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    The remains of the corpse were scattered on the ground, blood infiltrated the ground, the frightened face was frozen, and then gradually swallowed by the flames.

    The red light rushed into the sky, and the once prosperous Zheng Family Opera Garden became a scorched earth in the absurdity.

    The fire burned all night. At the beginning of the day, the ghost dissipated. Zuo Yan's nose was full of burnt smell and the stench of rotten flesh.

    And the cause of the fire was that the servants struggling and panic knocked over the candle in the mourning hall.

    This night was undoubtedly tormented, whether it was for him or for the dead.

    Zuo Yan is still standing in place, and the big tree stone table with him before has long been unable to see the original face.

    "There are causes and effects, all are revenge."

    System: "It's just a piece of memory, don't care too much."

    Can I not care? I am still trapped here! Who can help me.

    Zuo Yan sighed, "I won't eat barbecue anymore." The

    system looked at the burnt corpse in front of him. At this time, he still wanted to eat, and his brain circuit was also unusual.

    An exclamation came not far away. It was Zheng Zidong. Yesterday he took his team to the Marshal's Mansion and did not return.

    Facing the devastated home, he staggered closer and was stopped by the people around him. Although the flame was gone, the residual temperature was still there, and the touch was burning. Who would dare to let him touch it.

    This huge troupe can only rely on the support of these teenagers.

    His relatives and friends were half dead. He grabbed the people around him and yelled frantically and asked, but who could tell him why?

    As night fell, the ghosts who walked in and out of the ruins of this house again accompany Zuo Yan.

    Brother, don't go, you have been around eight times before my eyes.

    Little brother, can I go there to climb? You always go through my body, my feet hurt.

    No one can hear his voice or see him.

    Zuo Yan was mixed in this group of ghosts, and they all seemed out of place.

    He wanted to go home, really, never missed home so much.

    He would rather play games with Xiaoyi than share the moonlight with them.

    While sighing, I saw this group of ancestors suddenly turning their heads together, and there was a teenager standing where it was once a door.

    His eyes widened in disbelief, and he muttered, "Second Uncle, Third Brother...Little Six..." The

    ghosts moved slowly towards him, he staggered back, and ran away frantically.