Chapter 137 Entering the Internet
Zhou Rong took a deep breath and said nothing.
Hearing this, Pei Qian couldn't bear it anymore and said with a sneer: "Mr. Yin is still thoughtful."
Now that everyone has come in, there is nothing they can do to Jiangcheng, so one thing But things big and small finally came to nothing.
My eyes slowly swept across the room. It was unclear whether there was something wrong with the layout of the room, or whether someone had repaired it later. Even at ten o'clock at noon, the room was still very dark.
It's like a gray filter has been put on it.
The three of them did not dare to separate, so after Zhou Rong simply determined the direction, they moved along the brighter area.
As usual, Zhou Rong was first, Pei Qian was in the middle, and Jiang Cheng huddled at the end to prevent being cut off by ghosts.
The floor is an old-fashioned plaster floor, so it does not make a "creaking" sound like an old floor, which actually reduces the risk of exposure.
Although no one expects to be able to deceive ghosts in this way.
But I feel better after all.
The room they entered was a room similar to a living room. It was very large. Zhou Rong came to a slightly translucent wooden board, and then slowly used force to open the wooden board.
The sun shines in, and the vision is much clearer now.
The decoration of the house is full of a sense of age, with wooden chairs with hollow carvings and a table that looks very heavy.
Tables were piled in the corner. Pei Qian stepped forward as if he had discovered something and touched it with his hand. After a few seconds, his expression suddenly changed, "Sophora wood?"
"Sophora wood?" Zhou Rong followed closely and looked up and down at the heavy wooden table, but it could be seen that he was not proficient in wood.
So after a moment, Zhou Rong turned his face and said solemnly: "Are you sure it's a locust tree?"
Pei Qian nodded heavily, and there was even a trace of fear in his eyes.
For painters, especially Chinese paintings, some older painters are very conservative. Sometimes, in order to collect inspiration, they will meet in the countryside to collect scenery.
There is a saying among the people that "locust wood cannot make a coffin, and willow wood cannot make a house."
The word Sophora japonica means Zuomu means ghost, so it is also called ghost tree or dead man tree.
When used as a coffin, the deceased will suffer at least, and the family will be uneasy at worst. Folks also like to use the aged old locust wood to carve some rare toys and place them a little away from the coffin. The meaning of yang is to collect yin.
In such an old mountain village that attaches great importance to customs and a wealthy family, how could there be such a huge locust wood table.
Isn’t this a curse on yourself?
There is also a problem with the placement of the wooden table. It is in the darkest and dampest corner of the room, which makes people suffocate just looking at it.
Something flashed rapidly in Pei Gan's eyes, and he was thinking, but more than anything, he was still confused.
But soon, the doubts were overwhelmed by the sudden fear.
"No!" Pei Gan growled, "This room is not for people to live in!"
As soon as he said the words, he regretted it, although his voice was not very loud. It's big, but in such an environment, as long as you have ears, you can definitely hear it.
Not to mention a ghost.
But what Pei Qian didn't expect was that neither Zhou Rong nor Jiang Cheng in front of him had any intention of stopping him. They didn't even look at him, but looked around nervously.
Pei Qian immediately closed his mouth and followed their gaze, and then his breathing became rapid.
I don’t know when the surroundings fell into a gray state again. The wooden planks that Zhou Rong had just broken off were still embedded in the wall.
The wooden board was fixed around by dozens of large iron nails as thick as baby fingers, as if it were indestructible.
What made Pei Qian even more desperate was that he turned around and found that the window he had just jumped in had disappeared.
At this time, the advantage of the old players over the new players was revealed. None of the three people yelled because of the sudden change in the surrounding environment. Instead, they immediately gathered together and put their bodies close to the wall.
At least make sure the ghost doesn't attack from behind.
As time passed, the breathing of the three people became increasingly depressed, and even their heartbeats were suppressed within an acceptable range.
Zhou Rong has the habit of meditating. At this moment, he was huddled in one place. If his eyes hadn't been scanning around vigilantly, one would have doubted whether he was asleep.
Pei Qian, who had just lost his composure, now calmed down again. As an excellent master of traditional Chinese painting, he must meditate for a period of time before painting.
It is used to clear away distracting thoughts in the mind and reach the trance stage where painting is exquisite.
Compared to the two professionals, Jiang Cheng seemed much more amateurish. He simply leaned his back against the wall, not moving and making no sound. His body did not rise and fall with his breathing.
On the contrary, if you look at it from another angle, he is the best hidden among the three at this moment, almost blending into the dark environment.
Under the baggy pants are tight muscles.
Unlike Zhou Rong and Pei Qian who blindly pursue hiding, he seems to have other plans.
"Dudu. Du."
"Dudu. Du."
A sound suddenly rang in my ears.
It was unpleasant, but it sounded very powerful, and the reason why it was not described as weird was because Jiang Cheng felt that the voice seemed familiar.
He searched through the remaining memories in his mind, and the next second, what popped out was the fat man’s inappropriately big face.
He could imagine how scared the fat man would be if he were here.
Within three seconds after thinking of Fatty, Jiang Cheng's pupils suddenly narrowed, and he finally realized what was making the sound.
This is the sound of cutting vegetables.
The sound it makes when the kitchen knife cuts the food and hits the cutting board.
The voice was dull, and just by the sound, one could imagine that the knife used was definitely not an ordinary household kitchen knife.
It should be a thick bone-cutting knife that can break bones in one stroke.
Someone is cutting vegetables in this weird building!
Use a huge knife! !
Zhou Rong and Pei Qian were not ignorant of Yang Chunshui. They quickly realized the story behind the sound, and the three of them looked in the direction of the sound.
That's the other side of the room.
There was a door that was ajar, and the sound came from that door.
There is a faint light coming out of the door.
Zhou Rong's throat suddenly rolled.
Pei Gan's face was also very ugly.
As old players, they will not comfort themselves by saying that the door is just a good woman or girl who accidentally entered the building and cooked for herself because she was hungry.
What is closer to reality is that there is a terrible ghost there, holding a huge knife of unknown origin and cutting something.
What will it be?
This thought suddenly popped into Zhou Rong's mind.
He didn’t know, but it couldn’t be vegetables or something like that, because the ghosts in his impression were unlikely to be interested in such things.
It’s meat, so what’s on the cutting board must be meat!
But as for what kind of meat it was
At this moment, he suddenly thought of something that happened to Li Lu last night.
She drank a bowl of broth. (End of this chapter)