Panguan

He curled up his taut fingers and raised his eyes to look at the people on the side of the mountain road.

"We haven't seen you for a while, so you're going to sneak up on me with a puppet string?" Chen Bubu was not annoyed. He asked him with a smile and released his fingers.

The puppet string slipped from his fingers, and the others quickly and respectfully called "Master", but Shi did not say a word, frowned, and retracted the puppet string.

That night, Wenshi had another long-lost dream.

It was still the empty city filled with corpses and seas of blood, and the ghost cries filled the sky. It’s just that the ghosts and monsters have become blurry, like twisted evil silhouettes, and the ghosts’ cries are now near and far away, looming like sighs and low moans.

He stood in the empty hall wrapped in ghosts, with his fingers wrapped around the hanging puppet thread. The puppet thread was wet. It was not clear whether it was blood or sweat. It slowly slid down the thread, and then dripped down, gathering at his feet. Into puddles.

He suddenly heard movement behind him, turned around suddenly, and tightened the puppet string. But he saw Chen Bubu standing there with bare feet, and the snow-white fir tree hanging loosely.

His eyes were long and deep, and he glanced at Wen Shi from his half-closed eyes. Then he raised his hand and used his thumb to brush through his tight puppet strings one by one, erasing the water stains on them.

When Wen Shi looked at the thread under his fingers, he licked his dry lips.

"Call someone." The other party held him on a puppet string and whispered.

When he heard it, he closed his eyes, moved his lips and said, "The dust is gone."

He woke up the moment he said those three words.

The untied string on his finger instinctively flung out, shattering the bird stand on which Lao Mao was standing, and fell to the ground with a clang.

He sat on the couch, frowning, and his body was very tense. His snow-white clothes were loose and slightly messy as in the dream, stained with sweat that he had not known when.

I don't know when it started raining outside. The water gurgled and dripped along the eaves, making a sticky and ambiguous sound. When he smelled it, he pursed his lips, his plain white profile was reflected in the light, and he breathed slowly.

The door of the house was suddenly knocked twice and then gently pushed open.

When he heard this, he looked up and saw Chen Buo standing at the door holding a lamp. There was a bright candlelight in his eyes, and his voice was slightly hoarse from sleep: "What's wrong?"

When Wen Shi looked at him, he didn't answer.

Suddenly there was a muffled thunder outside the house, startling the insects in the mountains to stir.

The unconcerned eyes glanced down slightly and landed on his hands. When I heard it, I lowered my head and saw that I was surrounded by black mist and entangled in worldly affairs. It was the thick love, hate, sorrow, joy, seven emotions and six desires in the world.

Chapter 52 Seesaw

Maybe the spirit has been away from the body for too long. When it returns to the body, it will give rise to a strange feeling. One side is repulsive, the other is involved, and the back and forth is going back and forth. The one who suffers is Wen Shi himself.

He fell into a deep sleep for a long time.

The pain is intermittent, sometimes light and sometimes heavy, just like the pain when you are entangled in the world. So much so that he couldn't tell whether it was caused by the spirit entering the body or memories.

But all the pain was covered by the lingering and ambiguous dream at the end.

When Wen Shi woke up, it was also raining outside.

The sound of rain hitting the window glass was a bit like the sound of rain hitting the roof of the elegant house in Songyun Mountain, which was muffled. Rain is gurgling everywhere, and the wet movement flows along the eaves and walls, along the cochlea, and into the cracks of the bones.

It was also at night, and there was only one light in the room, which was dimmed. Just like the candlelight back then, it silently dropped a circle of light without dazzling the eyes.

But when he heard it, he still raised his hand to block it.

He squinted his eyes under the back of his hand, and the light leaked through the gap of his eyelashes, reflecting a bright color in the shadow.

"Are you awake?" Someone suddenly said.

Xie asked.

His low and deep voice was as loud as the sound of rain and was not obtrusive in the quiet room.

When I heard it, my fingers that were shielding me from the light curled up.

Just a second ago, he had just heard this person's voice in his memory, but it was not so clear.

The other party was wearing a long snow-white coat and leaning against the door with a lantern. There was a muffled thunderous sound outside the mountain, but he was sitting on the bamboo couch with his eyes lowered, covered in sweat, and his heart was beating like a drum.

When I heard it, I closed my eyes and sat up from the bed.

He said "hmm" in response to the thank you question.

After lying down for too long, the joints all over the body became tight and stiff, making them crack when moving. When he smelled it, he lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck. The color of his pursed lips was very light, and there was no emotion on his face, let alone how much of his past he had recalled in his dream.

Xie Wen, who was standing by the bed, bent down and reached out to turn on the bed headlights.

Wen Shi glanced from between his elbows to the other person's pale and slender fingers, and the scene in his dream suddenly fell in front of him.

Those wet puppet threads are intertwined, long or short, and tightly stretched. That is an extended part of his spiritual form, himself.

The hand in the dream was also pale and slender, twisting his puppet string and saying to him in a deep voice: "Call someone."

That was something that Wen Shi couldn't get rid of for a long time——

The person who gave him his name and his place of origin, more than ten years later, became a mundane world and delusional desire that he could not describe.

When Wenshi raised his eyes, he saw Xie Wen's profile in the dim light. Two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, his cuffs were rolled up, exposing his protruding wrist bones, and his thumbs were twisting the knob under the lamp. Just like before, he stood in front of the house wearing long clothes and holding a lantern.