Certainly! Here's the translation of the text:

The fat man chuckled mysteriously and said, "That day, a police brother of mine was handling this case and told me about it. I heard Zhang Qingyi died in an even more gruesome way—his brains spilled out! When the police arrived, they saw Zhang Qingyi's corpse with its organs scattered everywhere!"

I nodded and thought of a faint shadow, feeling an inexplicable sadness.

It was probably that Qingyi I had mentioned earlier after talking about Zhang Bang—a bicycle bell rang behind me, and I turned to look.

The fat man saw his life flash by on a bicycle passing me by. He snapped a picture of it with his large chest and exclaimed, "Good Lord, is this your God?"

I rubbed my bulging belly, turning around abruptly from Murong Yuhua's rain, when the fat man said, "My goodness, I've been fine since middle school, and now things are fine, yet still unclear." Murong Yuchang might be even more beautiful, while Murong explored female celebrities. The film portrayal of Rain had significance for a term; he refused to study!

In Murong Yu's opinion, if there was any learning to do, he'd come back to school every year. I only lowered my head, staring at his lantern with no hope of love.

Zhang explained that Murong Yuhua protected the special envoy.

As for that fat man who escaped alone, I glanced at the footprints and black light behind him. I patted his hand to push it away, shouting when I saw my fat self, "Run separately! It's not me, so flee!"

I later turned into a narrow alley. Little did I know that what I'd see later—I found a group of people following me, without holding hands.

Pushing an empty wine bottle towards the next fortress, I shouted at the Queen and the crowd, "Chasing me? This isn't my decision. You're chasing me!"

One of them tossed a brick towards me. The moment it hit my head, I staggered on the brick, nearly collapsing to the ground.

But soon, he calmed down, with no visible wound on his head, and the patient walked away. If we stop hurting Zhang Ming now, everything will be fine; his uncle's in town. Even if he gets killed, imagine how he'll feel going to school tomorrow night.

I didn't know where to go, but without the sound of offspring, I halted. When I saw four people, I was shocked—I'd finally arrived at the mass grave.

The mass grave had few people, fewer people, even fewer talent, which made me scared. My next-door neighbor told me, "This was the encampment of a notorious gang. Back then, when General Zhang Lingfu led his troops to eliminate them, the gang fled, severing ties with their families. So, no one knew where they went. They dug pits and buried the conscripts after killing them!" The gang complained—one night, someone passed by and saw the gang searching for their missing parts. The passerby was terrified and ran away instantly!"

When I heard this story, I thought of my neighbor's grandfather, who used to scare me deliberately. But who knew when I'd finish? Suddenly, the neighbor's grandfather solemnly told me it was real. He'd seen it himself and warned me never to visit a mass grave.

But looking back, for God's sake, on such a great day, I struggled to say, "What kind of ghosts are here today? Don't worry, just go home! You can get to my place from here, right from this path!"

After that, Ann Hao slowly walked ahead, but who could have expected Cui Hao to wander for more than 50 minutes without finishing the trip?

Exhausted, Ann Hao sat under a tree, noticing a chill despite the bright sunshine. At the center of Su Xinghe, he felt fear, buried amidst four abandoned mass graves.

Staring at the leaves, Ann Hao told himself, "It's better to retrace my steps and ensure another round of nerves can be beaten!"

Later, Ann Hao felt rested and planned to move forward again. As he stood, a plume of smoke emerged. His legs weakened; his body collapsed beside the tree. Only the occasional ringing sound followed him.

It was nighttime now. Autumn had arrived, and nights were growing colder.

Ann Hao steadied his aching head, shaking twice to stay sharp. Turning back to look at the mass grave, he realized he was still there. Muttering to himself, he said, "Why am I sleeping here? This isn't why people wait for me at night. I need to hurry!" He felt a dull ache in the back of his head.

Touching the wound on his head, he realized it was getting worse. Gently prodding it, fresh blood seeped out. Gazing at the injury, he sighed helplessly.

Alas! This is like a house leaking in the rain all night—slow ships caught in strong winds, and unlucky guns!

The path right now is terrible! Better get moving! Turning on his Nokia phone, he realized it was already past nine o'clock—urgent, no chance of returning to his uncle and aunt's place!

Just then, Ann Hao suddenly spotted a flashlight powered by a machine nearby, easing his heart a little. He slowly trudged forward with his backpack.

Ann Hao cautiously stepped ahead, missing a puddle with one foot. His body abruptly lost balance, throwing itself forward.

Ann Hao fell to the ground, blood spilling red. He touched his nose—his hand turned sticky. Without looking, he already understood. It was blood.

"That old Taoist's words were true—I'm afflicted by a disaster of blood and light! Had I known back then, I would've given him money; it really was true! How could I break this curse?" Ann Hao regretted missing his chance at the last temple fair, where outside the temple gates, a Taoist had stopped him and declared that disaster from blood and light loomed nearby. At the time, he hadn't believed it—but now, he did.

Pulling out rolls of paper from his backpack, he tore off some sheets to stop the bleeding. Then, staying quiet, he crept forward slowly.

The first three tightly hugged the large locust tree over the years. But now Ann Hao's current locust tree felt sinister. He wanted to take a detour, but scanning his surroundings, rooted himself by the locust tree.

Gradually, Ann Hao descended to the bottom. Before him unfolded a myriad of scenes emerged.

It is said that on the day of death, people can see their shortcomings because it's true! About one's actions—sorrow for sorrow, joy for joy.

Never having lived out the purpose of things, even now he remembered everything!

What a pity! Nothing had transpired.

At that moment underwater, he realized he had no trace of hope. The force stretched his legs straight. It dragged him beneath the surface until his final breath of air emptied out.

Whenever you encounter adversity, surrender—consider how much time you've wasted. It wouldn't stop you from being hindered significantly later. You'll face another position eventually.

Now, I don't want to let go. He didn't offer me any last shred of hope.

Slowly closing my eyes, water trickled into my stomach through my mouth. The scene steadily blurred. This was undoubtedly the sign of impending death!

As I closed my eyes, at the last moment, someone had slowly approached me. I initially thought someone had spotted me and come to rescue me. Yet, upon thinking, realized no one was in this area. How could I be deluded? Surely, it was hallucination. To end it, I hugged oblivion, shutting my eyes slowly to greet death.

Just as Ann Hao drowned, a young man appeared carrying a travel bag. Books and notebooks floated messily under the old locust tree.

Turning to glance at the water, now bubbling, a piece of paper drifted out from behind him. Chanting soft incantations, he emitted a blue glow, throwing his backpack ashore.

Leaping into the water with a flip, he saw Ann Hao being tugged downward by a strand of hair. Wang Anhao hurried over, extending his hand to suppress the advancing danger. With his other hand, he pulled out a copper coin engraved with Qianlong Tongbao from his pocket and flicked it at something lurking beneath.

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