Chapter 1 Zhou Rong Takes a Deep Breath

Zhou Rong took a deep breath and said nothing.

Hearing this, Pei Qian couldn't help but sneer coldly, "Mr. Yin considered everything so thoroughly."

Now that they were already inside, there was nothing they could do to Jiang Cheng, so a matter that could have been big or small was ultimately dropped.

His gaze slowly swept across the room. It wasn't clear if there was a problem with the room's layout or if someone had renovated it later, but even at noon, the room was still very dark.

It was like a layer of gray filter had been applied.

The three didn't dare to separate, so after Zhou Rong simply determined the direction, they groped along the slightly brighter area.

As usual, Zhou Rong was first, Pei Qian was in the middle, and Jiang Cheng was at the back to prevent the ghost from cutting off their retreat.

The ground was old-fashioned mud and ash, so it didn't creak like old floorboards, which reduced the risk of exposure.

Although no one expected to be able to deceive the ghost like this.

But it was always a little more comforting.

The place they climbed into was a room similar to a living room. It was very large. Zhou Rong came to a wooden plank that let in a little light, and then slowly exerted force, prying it open.

Sunlight shone in, and the visibility became much clearer.

The decoration of the house was full of a sense of the times, with hollow carved wooden chairs and a table that looked very heavy.

The table was piled in the corner. Pei Qian walked forward as if he had discovered something, touched it with his hand, and after a few seconds, his face changed abruptly. "Locust wood?"

"Locust wood?" Zhou Rong followed closely and looked up and down at the heavy wooden table, but it was obvious that he was not proficient in wood.

So after a moment, Zhou Rong turned his face and said solemnly, "Can you be sure it's locust wood?"

Pei Qian nodded heavily, and a hint of panic even appeared in his eyes.

For painters, especially Chinese painters, some older painters were very conservative. Sometimes, in order to collect inspiration, they would go to the countryside to gather inspiration.

There was a saying among the people: "Locust wood cannot be made into a coffin, and willow wood cannot be placed on the roof."

The Chinese character for locust (槐, huai) has the wood radical on the left and the ghost radical on the right, so it is also called ghost wood or dead man's wood.

Using it as a coffin would cause the deceased to suffer, and in severe cases, the family would be disturbed. During folk burials, they also liked to use old locust wood that had been around for many years to carve some rare playthings and place them a little further away from the coffin, to ward off yang and absorb yin.

In such an old mountain village that valued customs so much, and a wealthy family, how could there be such a huge locust wood table?

Wasn't this cursing themselves?

Moreover, the placement of the wooden table was also problematic. It was in the darkest and most humid corner of the room, which was suffocating to look at.

Something flashed quickly in Pei Qian's eyes, there was thought, but more of it was doubt.

But soon, the doubt was overwhelmed by the sudden surge of fear.

"Not good!" Pei Qian roared in a low voice, "This room is not for people to live in!"

As soon as the words came out, he regretted it. Although his voice was not very loud, in such an environment, anyone with ears would definitely be able to hear it.

Especially ghosts.

But what Pei Qian didn't expect was that Zhou Rong and Jiang Cheng in front of him didn't mean to stop him. They didn't even look at him, but looked around nervously.

Pei Qian immediately closed his mouth and looked in the direction of their gazes. Immediately afterwards, his breathing became rapid.

He didn't know when, but the surroundings had returned to the gray state. The wooden plank that Zhou Rong had pried off was still embedded in the wall.

The wooden plank was fixed around with dozens of iron nails as thick as baby fingers, as if it were indestructible.

What made Pei Qian even more desperate was that when he turned around, he found that the window he had just jumped in from... had disappeared.

At this time, the advantage of old players over new players was revealed. None of the three shouted because of the sudden change in the surrounding environment, but immediately gathered together, their bodies close to the wall.

At least ensure that the ghost would not launch an attack from behind.

As time passed, the breathing of the three became weaker and weaker, and even their heartbeats were suppressed within an acceptable range.

Zhou Rong had a habit of meditation. At this moment, he was huddled in a corner. If his eyes were not scanning the surroundings vigilantly, he would have been suspected of falling asleep.

Pei Qian, who had just lost his composure, had also calmed down again. As an excellent Chinese painting master, he had to meditate for a period of time before each painting.

It was used to clear the distracting thoughts in his heart and reach the stage of entrancement that painting emphasized.

Compared to the professionalism of the two, Jiang Cheng seemed much more amateur. He simply leaned against the wall, without moving or making any sound. His body did not rise and fall with his breathing.

On the contrary, if you looked at it from a different angle, he was the best hidden of the three at the moment, almost blending into the dim environment.

Under the loose pants were tense muscles.

Unlike Zhou Rong and Pei Qian's single-minded pursuit of hiding, he seemed to have other plans.

"Doo...doo...doo..."

"Doo...doo...doo..."

A burst of sound suddenly rang in his ears.

Not fast, but it sounded very powerful, and... the reason why he didn't use the word "weird" to describe it was because Jiang Cheng felt that the sound was familiar.

He searched along the remaining memories in his mind, and the next second, Fatty's inappropriate big face popped out.

He could imagine what Fatty would be like if he were here.

Within three seconds after thinking of Fatty, Jiang Cheng's pupils suddenly shrank, and he finally realized what the sound was coming from.

This was... the sound of chopping vegetables.

The sound of a kitchen knife cutting through vegetables and hitting the cutting board.

The sound was muffled, and just by this sound, he could imagine that the knife used would definitely not be an ordinary household kitchen knife.

It should be a heavy bone chopper that could cut through bones with one blow.

In this strange building... someone was chopping vegetables!

With a huge knife!!

Zhou Rong and Pei Qian were not people who had never done any housework. The two quickly realized the story behind the sound, and the three of them uniformly looked in the direction of the sound.

It was on the other side of the room.

There... was a half-open door, and the sound was coming from that door.

Faint light透ed out from inside the door.

Zhou Rong's throat rolled violently.

Pei Qian's face was also very ugly.

As old players, they would not comfort themselves by saying that there was just a good woman or girl who had strayed into this building and was cooking for herself because she was hungry.

What was closer to reality was that there was a fierce ghost with a miserable death inside, holding a huge and unknown knife, chopping something.

What could it be?

Zhou Rong suddenly had this thought in his mind for no reason.

He didn't know, but it wouldn't be something like green vegetables, because the ghosts in his impression were not very interested in this kind of thing.

It was meat, what was on the cutting board must be meat!

But as for what kind of meat...

At this moment, he suddenly thought of something that happened to Li Lu last night.

She drank a bowl of meat soup.