磨坊的影子就像一个冰冷的拥抱,不肯消散.顾小曼手指指着的角落里,到处都是破损的农具和发霉的饲料,内心深处是纯粹的黑暗,仿佛与另一个未知的空间相连.沈长安压抑着立刻调查的冲动.他知道现在冲动行事无异于自杀.外面的村民随时都能找到他们的踪迹.当务之急是找个相对安全的地方住,消化刚刚收到的恐怖信息,找到顾雪信中提到的"镜子".
"我们得先离开这里."沈长安压低了声音,看了一眼顾小曼空洞的脸."村里有没有我可以临时住的地方?他们安排了它.他指的是那些麻木的村民.既然他是"外国人",按照一些奇怪的"规则",可能会有指定的住所.
顾小曼的反应总是慢半拍,就像一台需要时间处理指令的旧机器.她起初茫然地眨了眨眼,然后似乎明白了他的意思,轻轻地点了点头.她再次伸出瘦骨嶙峋的手,指向磨坊外面,指向村子的中心.
这个念头又直接涌入了沈长安的脑海,冰冷而机械:"王二家.
王二家?沈长安搜索了他糟糕的记忆.似乎进村时,带队的老妇人含糊地提到,外人会暂时留在王二家.他别无选择,只好相信这个奇怪的哑巴女人的指导.
两人小心翼翼地推开了磨坊房破损的门,确认外面暂时没有人后,他们迅速躲了出去,朝着来路相反的方向,更加小心翼翼地回到了村子的主干道上.这一次,他们避开了空旷的地方,并试图在房屋的阴影中行走.空气中弥漫着一种难以形容的压抑感,仿佛整个村子都在默默地注视着他们.在那些紧闭的门窗背后,似乎有一双双麻木冰冷的眼睛.
王二的房子就在村子的中心.这是一座比周围环境略整洁的土坯房.院墙是用石头建造的.门口挂着两盏褪色的红灯笼,在灰暗的乡村景象中显得格外耀眼.院门半开着.
顾小曼带着沈长安来到门口停下,细微的"嘶嘶"声再次从他的喉咙里传出.沈长安又想到了:"进去吧.晚上不要出来.
说完,顾小曼甚至没有看沈长安一眼.他转过身来,像影子一样迅速消失在旁边的一条狭窄的小巷里,仿佛从未出现过一样.
沈长安站在王二家门口,犹豫了片刻.这个所谓的"安全屋"本身就散发着一种不祥的气氛.但他此刻别无选择.他深吸一口气,推开了门.
院子打扫得很干净.地面是被反复清扫的黄色土壤.一些柴火堆在角落里.一个中等身材,面色蜡黄的中年男子蹲在屋檐下,默默地编织着一根草绳.听到声音,他抬起头,露出一副面无表情的表情.他的眼神和村里其他人一样,空洞麻木,没有任何情绪波动.
"外人?"男人的声音干涩的,仿佛已经很久没有说话了.
沈长安点点头:"他们让我暂时留在这里.
男人没有多问,只是站起身来,指了指旁边一座看起来像翼房的小房子:"住在那个房间里.说完,他又蹲下身子,继续编织着自己的草绳,仿佛沈长安只是空气.
这种完全的冷漠,比恶意的目光更令人不寒而栗.沈长安没有多说什么,推开了翼房的门,走了进去.
房间不大,布置简单,有一张砖床,一张油漆剥落的木桌,还有一把没有腿的椅子和一个石垫子.空气中弥漫着一股淡淡的气味,类似于旧木头和灰尘的混合物,但并不难闻.窗纸早已变黄,照进来的光线昏暗朦胧.
沈长安仔细打量了一下房间.门窗可以从内部用螺栓固定,尽管它们并不坚固.墙壁是用夯土砌成的,看起来非常坚固.他走到墙边,下意识地用手指敲了敲.
"咚咚..."声音很沉闷.
就在他准备收回手的时候,他指尖触碰到的墙壁上似乎有一种极其微妙的松动感.他动了动心,凑近仔细观察.
它靠近墙角,在砖床边缘上方,一块土坯似乎没有与其他部分紧密结合,留下了一个 едва заметный 的缝隙.缝隙非常狭窄,几乎被灰尘覆盖.如果不仔细观察,就无法找到它.
这是巧合,还是...?
他想起了顾小曼在自己手心上刻的"砖"字.虽然更有可能指向村口的石砖或祠堂,但此刻的任何异常都值得警惕.他从口袋里掏出折叠刀,小心翼翼地将刀尖插入缝隙中,轻轻撬开.
随着一阵细土落下,松散的土坯被撬开了一点.从房间里传来一股不同的气息,更加阴沉,带着淡淡的血腥味,从缝隙中逸出.
沈长安屏住呼吸,扩大了开口.里面似乎有一个小洞,里面塞满了什么东西.他用刀尖戳了戳,感觉很柔软,像某种布或纸.
He carefully took out the things inside bit by bit.
It was a stack of paper, or rather, the remains of a diary with the cover and most of the pages torn off. The edges of the paper were yellow and curled, and many places were stained with dark brown, long-dried stains - that was blood! A lot of blood! Some places even became stiff and sticky due to the blood.
Shen Changan's heart was beating wildly. He took the remaining pages to the table and began to read them carefully in the dim light.
The handwriting of the diary was sloppy and twisted, as if the writer wrote it in a state of extreme fear or pain. Many of the words became blurred due to the blood, but he could still barely recognize some of the content.
On one of the pages, there was a creepy text:
"... The ceremony... began... They chose Li Laosan's stupid son... The seventh... No, they said he was the eighth Xilang... He was carried into the... pit behind the ancestral hall... When the soil was sealed, he was still crying... Like a child..."
"... The village chief said that this is the rule passed down by the ancestors... For the peace of the village... Xilang's resentment... Can nourish... the locust tree... And... Can also... satisfy 'that'..."
Shen Changan's eyes were fixed on the next few lines of text, and a chill rushed from the soles of his feet to the top of his head:
"... They said... On the third day after Xilang was buried alive, when his resentment was the heaviest, he would be dug out... His nails... would become like jade... brittle and shiny... Grind it into powder and mix it with the juice of the locust tree... It is the raw material for making... wedding candy paper..."
Wedding candy paper!
Shen Changan looked at the sticky wedding candy in his pocket that exuded a strange smell. Inside... it was made of living people's fingernails?! No wonder... No wonder it makes a "clicking" sound like the friction between finger bones when it is squeezed!
A strong feeling of nausea surged into his throat, and he almost vomited. The so-called "ghost marriage" in this village is not a simple superstitious ritual at all, but an ongoing cycle of horror with living people sacrificed! Using the resentment of the living to nourish the evil tree, and using the fingernails of the dead to make candy wrappers that symbolize "joy"... The malice hidden behind this is simply outrageous!
He endured the discomfort and continued to flip through the pages.
Turning to about page 17 (the page number is already blurred), the owner of the diary seems to have drawn a simple floor plan. The lines are crooked, but it can be seen that it is depicting a square interior space with square bricks on the ground. In the center of the picture, a rough arrow points to the third floor tile from the door, and two shocking words are marked in blood next to it - "bloody mouth"!
Next to the "bloody mouth", there is a smaller, almost illegible note:
"When shedding... there will be... a baby crying under the brick..."
Shedding? What is shedding? Is it the locust tree? Or something else? What does "bloody mouth" mean? Is it an entrance? Or some kind of... symbol of swallowing sacrifices? The cry of a baby... Could it be that there is more than one "happy man" buried under that brick?
Shen Changan felt that his cognition was being completely overturned. The secrets hidden in this village were darker and weirder than he had imagined. The "three" and "brick" carved by Gu Xiaoman may not refer to the entrance of the village, but to the "bloody mouth" brick in the ancestral hall!
He took a deep breath, suppressed the horror in his heart, and continued to turn the pages of the diary stained with blood. He wanted to know who wrote this diary? What was his final outcome?
The content of the diary became more and more chaotic and fragmented, full of fear and desperate muttering. The writer seemed to realize that he was being watched by some kind of power, and the words were full of paranoia.
"...It's watching me...There are eyes in the wall...under the bed..."
"...I can't write anymore...I'll be discovered..."
"...Next...it's my turn..."
The diary seemed to be interrupted here. The next dozen pages were blank.
Shen Changan turned to the last page, thinking it would be the end, or blank.
But he was wrong.
The last page was not blank.
On it, a line of words was written in a handwriting that was completely different from the previous one, clearer, more stable, but also colder and weirder. The ink color (or blood color?) of the handwriting looked unusually "fresh", as if...it had just been written not long ago!
The line of words, facing him, was like a pair of cold eyes, staring at him through the paper:
"Stranger, your cuffs are stained with the corpse wax of the locust tree."
Boom——!
Shen Changan's mind seemed to be hit hard by a heavy hammer, and it went blank in an instant.
This sentence... Who is this sentence written for? !
Outsider... Could it be referring to himself? !
He suddenly lowered his head and looked at the cuff of his left hand. There, when he touched the old locust tree at the entrance of the village and tried to check those human skin paper men, he did accidentally rub some grayish-white things on the bark that looked like moss and had a greasy feeling!
He didn't care at the time, thinking it was just ordinary tree dirt.
Corpse wax? !
What was attached to the locust tree was actually corpse wax formed by corpses that rotted to a certain stage? ! That tree... That tree full of human skin paper men... Could it be that it was itself made up of countless corpses and resentments? !
What made him feel even colder was that the person (or... thing?) who wrote this line of words not only knew that he was a stranger, that he came to this room and found this diary, but also... knew the details of his cuffs that he had accidentally touched at the entrance of the village just now!
It was watching him!
In this room!
Or, this diary itself was a surveillance camera, a trap? !
Shen Changan looked up suddenly, and his horrified eyes swept through the small, dim room like a frightened beast. The walls, the roof, the earthen kang, the tables and chairs... everything looked so ordinary, but it seemed that there were prying eyes hidden everywhere. The Wang Er who sat in the yard weaving straw ropes? Or something else... invisible?
Cold sweat instantly soaked his back. He felt like a prisoner who was stripped naked and thrown into the snow, and every pore was trembling. The excitement and sense of control he had felt when he found the clues before were gone, replaced by a huge fear of being completely seen through and having nowhere to hide.
He clenched the diary fragments in his hand, and the "fresh" handwriting seemed to be warm, burning his fingertips.
Who was it?
Who was warning him? Or... playing with him?
He stuffed the diary fragments back into his arms, and his other hand tightly grasped the handle of the folding knife.
This seemingly temporary "safe house" may actually be more dangerous than anywhere outside!
He must leave here immediately!
But where else can he go? Gu Xiaoman told him not to come out at night. The numb villagers outside, and the terrifying locust tree... The whole village is a huge, living cage.
He was trapped. Moreover, the "thing" hiding in the dark has already set its sights on him.