Mo Ying's vision darkened, and the next moment, he found himself in another world.

The rain penetrated through the cracks in the window, and the coldness penetrated into the skin. I woke up, touched my wet face, and fumbled to close the window.

When I fell on the bed again and curled up under the quilt, my consciousness was blurred, but I felt a little uneasy for no reason.

It was so quiet, there was no sound, it was so quiet that one could hear the blood rushing and humming in the blood vessels.

My brain was suddenly sober, and my heart was tightening in my chest and struggling desperately.

I started to tremble slightly and couldn't stop. The feeling of being spied on pierced my nerves from all directions.

Unable to bear it any longer, I opened my eyes suddenly with determination to fight.

I was stunned, my brain went blank, and so did my heart.

The whole person is blank.

It's all eyes.

Eyes large and small are attached to all the objects, and they even fill my field of vision with warmth.

They're looking at me.

——Then, he bent up, as if looking at each other was an extremely joyful thing.

I sat stiffly, and later on, I couldn't even tell whether they were laughing or crying. can not see clearly.

I couldn't look away, couldn't close my eyes, and they -

Not the eye sockets, but the lips.

They opened like eyes again, and their fine and sharp teeth shone with cold light, slowly piercing the eyeballs.

Liquid flowed from the corners of his mouth and poured out from all directions.

I accidentally touched the deformed eyeball on the quilt, and it felt a little tough.

The mouth on the back of the hand stopped chewing.

I slowly closed my eyes, not even breaking down yet, just thinking, thank God, I still have my eyes.

When I opened my eyes again, they were all gone again. Only sunlight fills the room.

The window was open, and a cool breeze blew in. The back of my hand was still smooth and intact, and the quilt was warm.

"Are you up? It's time to have lunch." A voice sounded along with the knock on the door.

I was silent for a moment, climbed out of bed, and slowly opened the door.

A tall figure, as tall as the doorframe. And I am as tall as his plaid apron.

I couldn't help but smile. It's so ridiculous.

"What are you laughing at?" His voice was gentle, and he pulled my hair out without hesitation. I was forced to raise my head and look at his face, shrouded in mist, which was all gray.

I pinched his wrist hard and said as calmly as possible: "Don't touch me."

Unfortunately, my voice was shaking so much, it was hoarse and soft, and it was muffled in my throat. It's out of my control, but it doesn't stop me from feeling embarrassed.

He looked at me, just like I once looked at a cabbage in the market, and then, as if comforting, he touched me from the top of my head to the back of my neck, stopped, and squeezed.

My hair stood on end, and a mouse caught in a snake's mouth suddenly appeared in my mind.

Fortunately, he quickly removed his hand, turned sideways, and motioned for me to go out to eat.

I sat down at the dining table obediently. I only dared to glance around with my peripheral vision and found that everything around me generally looked normal.

I don't even know where I got this so-called normal concept.

I silently lowered my eyes and looked down at the brown and black dining table. There was a bamboo basket full of steamed buns on it. They were white and soft, with slight undulations. Deep inside the buns covered by them, thin silk threads were entangled along the gaps and squirming.

He appeared quietly behind me, like a shadow, dark and damp, peeping at me.

Those eyes.

I picked up a bun and tore open the skin with my weak fingers. Dark red oil rolled down onto my fingertips, bringing with it a cold temperature. The filling is a few dark blue prismatic lumps, still like eyes. After feeling the light, brown liquid flows out, and it bubbles with excitement.

Ha, I didn't throw this thing away, but they ran away first as if they couldn't stand me. They didn't know how they could roll so fast even though they were prismatic.

How funny.

He even conjured up a bowl of soup for me and placed it in front of me. It looked like it was good enough to eat.

I took a deep shaky breath and tried my best to make a normal sound: "The buns are not cooked yet."

He smiled, then coughed slightly, trying to hide it: "I'm sorry."

He paused for a moment and apologized again: "Did it hurt you just now? I just wanted to see how you look."

Finally, he asked: "Can you please describe what all this looks like in your eyes?"

The edges of the table began to melt. I reached out and touched it, and the moment I made contact, it solidified again.

Being manipulated, I picked up the bowl and took a sip of soup.

This soup was magical. After a burst of tinnitus, my fear disappeared from my mind like a tide.

"What are the fillings of the buns?" I looked at him and asked. Now the mist on his face was so thick that water was dripping, and his neck was like a snail sticking out of its shell, sticking out sticky: "Egg mushrooms, I'm afraid the taste is too bland, so I added chili oil. This way there is no need for dipping. ." At the end, there was a hint of implicit pride.

I thought maybe my ears were broken: "Where's the soup?"

Him: "Pork ribs and mushroom soup."

I had to wonder if I was suffering from bacterial poisoning.

I struggled to recall the last food I swallowed, and unfortunately found that I had indeed eaten fungi.

"Allow me to ask, where did you get the mushrooms?"

He really loves to laugh, which is in sharp contrast to his body.

"Maybe what you saw is the truth." He said, "But these are no longer important. I hope you can do me a favor. It's very simple. Of course, you have no right to refuse."

Immediately afterwards, he was erased, like graffiti on a picture book, when a dissatisfied author erased the objectionable work.

Am I the same?

I thought this before losing consciousness. Was it an instant or did it take a long time? Was that a ridiculous nightmare?

The strong wind swept by, and the hair was flying wildly, but the body was comfortable, as if it was being embraced gently and cherished by a soft person.

A few scattered trees were blown to their waists, and their branches struggled wildly, screaming under the pressure. But I seemed to be separated from the world. Even though the corners of my clothes and hair were pulling me backwards, I didn't feel a trace of resistance when I was going against the wind.

I stopped in confusion, not knowing where to go for a moment.

The gravel hit my body, and the slight pain made me think it was not a dream. Maybe the toxins from the fungus haven’t been metabolized yet?

"Who am I? Where do I come from and where am I going?" I asked myself seriously, but I heard someone reply, "Guess."

...There was some awkward silence.

"Is that you?" I was silent for a moment, struggling to find a polite word to address him.

Unfortunately, because my mind is now full of news and speculations about fungus poisoning, I finally blurted out very rudely: "Mr. Fungus."

He also fell silent.

"I'm sorry. I..." I felt ashamed of my poor words.

"Why do you have to apologize? Although I am indeed not a gentleman." He said dissatisfied.

I didn't react for a while.

"Call me Mr. Gentleman from now on." He made the final decision.

"So, what do you need me to do for you, Mr. Junzi?" This rude name instantly became perfect, but Junzi is still more pyrotechnics, isn't it?

"You just need to take things as they come." Mr. Junzi replied, "I will take you home when it's over. Don't worry about the rest."

"Okay." I agreed happily, "Role playing?" I guessed it was like an actor, although I was not completely willing and I was not paid.

"Okay. If you need anything, you can call me. I can talk to you like a mobile phone." Mr. Junzi tried hard to use metaphors, "I'm leaving first."

There was no sign of Mr. Fungus anywhere around. Maybe it was his thoughts talking to me.

I don't know when the wind stopped, and the sky was gloomy, reminding me of that night full of eyes.

But I am no longer afraid.

That bowl of so-called pork ribs and mushroom soup worked well, keeping me from being immersed in panic and unable to think. In fact, even though everything around me started to become weird from that night on, to be honest, I didn’t have much desire to explore.

The truth will be revealed one day, it's just a matter of time. To take a step back, if I cannot come into contact with the truth until my death, then I am not qualified. Not important, I don't care.

I've always done well with just taking things as they come.

There is a glistening light in the distance in the sky. In the vast sky and earth, it is like the newborn sun, showing warmth and love, tempting aimless travelers to come for protection.

It's too much like the light emitted by the angler fish in the deep sea. The cunning predator throws out the bait, attracting innocent prey to fall into its trap.

It was a gut feeling that had no reason, but it was enough to stop me in my tracks.

"Go." A pair of bony arms hugged my waist. It pressed close to me, with a deep coldness, and nuzzled me like a cat. "The wind has stopped and it's getting dark. Stay here. You will die."

"Excuse me, who are you?" I didn't look back and gently put my hand on my abdomen. The touch was cold and hard. Perhaps it was indeed a skeleton, but I sensed no ill will toward me.

It let go of me, held my hand and walked towards the village, gently but irresistibly: "I don't remember my name. But people who see me call me a ghost."

Under the thin light, there is a human skeleton, vaguely enveloping the appearance in life. It can be seen that it is a delicate girl, wearing a green dress, it is the prime of life.

Like the morning dew, it is regrettable.

"Brother, look." She looked back at me with an unknown smile, "This is Yuzhuang." "I'm afraid ghost is not a suitable name." In a few breaths, a village appeared in front of us, and The light in the distance was completely swallowed up, and the sky was dark, "Miss."

She was stunned for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and she looked into my eyes with a confused exploration.

I suspect that this title seems inappropriate, but this problem of not knowing how to properly address others is really difficult to change.

Or perhaps, this title touched the shadow of her memory during her lifetime.

"Just call me Gui." After a while, Gui said, "Goodbye."

The sound was like the fallen leaves in the autumn sunset, floating swayingly on the roots of the trees.

The ghost's figure dissipated like smoke, and its bones collapsed, turning into a small mound with a string of bracelets dangling on it. Visual inspection shows that the bracelet is old. The original white beads have turned yellow, and the dark red and shiny threads give it an ominous atmosphere.

I spread my hands and saw a string of exactly the same bracelets. The only difference was that it was delivered to my hand by a ghost.

I compared and looked at it for a while, decided to pick it up and put it properly in my pocket.

My intuition tells me that this is something that ghosts cherish, and even if the owner has passed away, it should not be abandoned.

Maybe it was stored on purpose? It's too easy to lose.

Anyway, I took it with me and headed towards the village.