Panguan

But she hadn't seen that back garden for a long time.

She wandered in this corridor every night, and what she saw was always black. The dark door, the dark cabinet, the dark shadow...everyone who saw her cried and kept away from her, as if she was some dirty thing.

I wasn't dirty before. Shen Manyi murmured softly.

As soon as she lowered her head, her forehead touched Wen Shi's palm. A child's forehead is always a little round, like some kind of small animal. But Shen Manyi's is a little strange, because the flesh on her face is collapsed.

He didn't pull his hand away when he heard it, and let her hold it against.

Seeing Xie Wen approaching, he bent down and handed the bow to Shen Manyi, saying, No one said you were dirty.

After Xie Wen finished speaking, he raised his eyes and said in a low voice with a volume that can only be heard when he smells it: Don't move yet.

Then he turned and glanced at the corner where the crowd gathered, pointing to the dilapidated sofa.

Lao Mao immediately understood what his boss meant, went to the bed and pulled off the bedclothes, wrapping up the body that had rolled out of the sofa.

Others are still in the aftertaste of shock.

They mechanically looked at Wen Shi and Shen Manyi, at Xie Wen and Lao Mao, and mechanically realized what Lao Mao was going to do, and then mechanically walked over to help.

Dadong's mouth was open, his face was wooden. He knelt down, helped Lao Mao wrap the rotten body tightly, and moved it to the big bed.

Just like that little girl named Shen Manyi, who ran into her parents’ room one afternoon in 1913, felt sleepy after playing for a while, climbed onto the big bed, rolled up the quilt and fell asleep.

It wasn't until they finished everything that Wen Shi withdrew his hand, and Xie Wen straightened up.

Shen Manyi clutched the bow, as if she saw the back garden in late spring and early summer again.

Behind the bow there is an old-fashioned pin that is rusted. She rubbed her rusty fingers behind her back, carefully pinned the bow to the dress, and flicked the half-hanging edge of the bow like a rabbit's ears.

The bloodstains flowing on the wall gradually faded, like water stains, soaked into the wall, and disappeared after drying. The black mist that filled the entire room also flowed again, its edges became thinner and thinner, wrapping around her in strands, and it was no longer as sharp as a knife.

When the black mist was withdrawn, it swept across Dadong's face.

He just put down the curtain to cover the roll of quilt on the bed. Touched by the black mist, he suddenly froze in place while touching his face.

What happened just now? ? ?

He quickly rewound the tape in his mind—starting from when Shen Manyi got the bowknot and the ghost turned into a cat, he traced all the way back to the moment when the black mist dissipated crazily.

The picture of the white cotton thread criss-crossing and nailing the entire room was really shocking, even if it was just a memory, he subconsciously held his breath.

He screened it for a while, and finally recalled it.

Pulling the thread can lift the house like this, is it powerful?

big.

Can you control so many lines and directions at the same time, can you control the skill?

Qiang.

The wires are clearly defined, and when they are nailed into the wall, dust splashes, and it seems that cutting iron and breaking gold is no problem. Can such a spiritual god be ranked among the puppet masters?

Yes, and it's from a master's generation.

Who is doing these things?

The big apprentice of the Shen family.

My day.

This was the first sentence that popped into Dadong's mind.

He turned his head too violently, and there was a click in his neck, which made the old Mao next to him stunned for a moment.

What are you doing? Haunted? Old Mao saw that his eyes were straightened, and he was staring at Wen Shi's direction without turning. That posture was more terrifying than ghosts.

Dadong was already numb. I don't know if he was too dazed or unbelievable. Anyway, his voice was very soft and his breath was weak: I want to ask you something.

Lao Mao has a not-so-enthusiastic temperament, which is completely different from Dazhao and Xiaozhao. He glanced at Dadong, thinking about it but not thinking about it, and said, What's the matter?

Dadong said faintly: You know that big apprentice of the Shen family, right?

Old Mao: Who?

He was stunned for a moment before he realized that the disciple of the Shen family was referring to Wen Shi.

Lao Mao glanced at Dadong silently, thinking that people nowadays are really brave, pointing to their ancestors to recognize their apprentices. Do you dare to point it out, does the Shen family dare to admit it?

Lao Mao scratched his face, and said ang indescribably, I know you.

Dadong is still faint: Have you ever seen him perform puppetry before?

Lao Mao: I've seen it.

I have seen it since I was a child.

Dadong said in a rather hazy tone: I just saw it for the first time, and now it's a bit hot.

Old Mao: ?

Dadong: There is a saying that the authorities are obsessed. I'm afraid I may make a mistake in my judgment.

Old Mao: ??

Lao Mao couldn't help it anymore: Say what you have to say.

Dadong: Okay, then let me ask you, from the perspective of a bystander, how does his puppetry compare to mine?

Old Mao: ...

Whoever listens to this is superior.

The old Mao's eyes were round and black, and when he blinked, there was a deep sense of doubt. He squinted his eyes and looked at Dadong and said, Are you so ignorant?

Dadong: I have, so I'm a bit dazed right now.

Not to mention being dumbfounded, he recalled the bi

, almost crazy.

In front of a person who can be his master at a level, he immediately said with a special momentum, You go away, I will come.