Another shock
In just a few words, I felt the pervasive cold intensify.
Immediately afterwards, itching and heat similar to frostbite began to appear on my exposed cheeks and skin.
Old Zhao looked at me, his eyes suddenly changed, he pointed at me and screamed in fear several times.
Only then did I realize that the reason he had been silent was not because he had a gloomy personality, but because he simply couldn't speak.
His mouth, I'll just call that thing a tongue, was also covered with some unusually fresh red color.
Modern people are all sub-healthy, and their tongue coating is basically white or yellow, and it looks rough and prickly. But at this time, all the ups and downs were smoothed out by the "burn". The strange red was very stiff and motionless in his mouth, almost two-dimensionally flat, as if it was not a piece of meat with volume, but a red round paper money, and the remaining half went straight into the depths of his throat.
When I thought about how this "burn" would extend to a place I couldn't see and eventually turn inside out somewhere, I gritted my teeth and my head started to pound.
Being stared at by me like that, Lao Zhao suddenly shut his mouth and fell down on one of the cheap plastic chairs.
I went over, roughly pulled him up and pushed him into the driver's seat.
Given the huge power gap between us, I had no chance of pushing him. But at this moment, Lao Zhao's eyes were all on my face and neck. He didn't resist at all and was pushed back to his seat passively by me.
I saw that his eyes were still wandering, so I immediately shouted, "Why are you looking at me? Drive!"
Old Zhao was startled and suddenly stepped on the accelerator which had just been turned off, then he woke up as if from a dream and tried to restart the engine.
Fortunately, he was not so confused as to turn around and run away. The car started to move with two humming sounds, and began to move towards the main road of the town bit by bit at a speed that was almost as slow as a snail. Then, he slapped the button on the side of the dashboard hard to close the wide-open car doors again.
I kicked Nian Ziqing back to his seat, and then I felt a little dizzy and stuffy in my chest, so I stood still holding the railing next to the cab.
"Okay... Now, the travel process resumes."
I tried my best to recall the female tour guide's movements and gestures, and I felt both gratitude and sadness for her. I calmed myself down and managed to keep my voice steady as I reminded the two people in the car:
"First, do not ask about the identity of tourists; second, do not stray from the mountain roads and scenic spots; third, you must go to homestays and lakeside."
I guess that's what it said, I'm not sure if I remembered any of the words wrong.
Nian Ziqing sat down and argued with difficulty: "There is no B&B or lake here!"
Nonsense. This is the Temple of the Mouse in the snowy mountains, not a tourist attraction. If you keep "sightseeing" here, it will probably be an offense to the Mouse, and some punishment rules will be triggered soon.
But we should try our best. If we can rely on the remaining rules of the goddess who is of the same species and origin to be polluted, it would be a blessing to be able to breathe a little longer.
At this time, I should be grateful that I was once in the deepest part of the closed loop and was so seriously infected by the Goddess and the banyan tree. To tell a hellish joke, the drivers Lao Zhao and Nian Ziqing relied on decades of accumulated quantity, while I relied on the quality of just two or three days to win. It can be seen that on the dead road of ghost stories, everything ends in the same place.
The fuel gauge on the car was still quite impressive, about two-thirds left. As the car almost stopped moving, I felt the pressure in my chest ease a little, but the coldness was still getting worse, stinging my throat and causing it to hurt.
I tried not to think about what had changed in me, or whether I had any red marks from the burns. I checked again and made sure that the three of us could still support the minimum functional configuration of the tour group.
No matter how slow we go, the vehicle will eventually drive into the town and the gray-white fog. At this moment, time is very precious to us.
I quickly organized my thoughts and realized that today was probably the day I spoke the most in my life.
"Mr. Zhao, don't worry for now. The driver just needs to drive and don't worry about anything else."
I looked at Nian Ziqing's toes again: "The tour guide is introducing and the tourists are listening. If you want to add some interactive experience, you can continue to argue. But I suggest you save your energy, because I can't talk for long. If I become exhausted later, you can take over and replace me, so that I can rest my voice."
He shuddered immediately: "How do you introduce yourself?"
"Look, use your eyes now." I frowned and found that the front windshield of the car was not very clean. Once the fog entered, the visibility would probably be very low.
And we are not sure whether the fog will penetrate into the car. As our only barrier at the moment, it will be a big trouble if something goes wrong with this broken bus.
For now I could only give them all a try, so I rolled up my cuffs to prevent myself from getting so hot that I had to take off my clothes unconsciously. At the same time, I found a rag on the front platform of the car and wiped the dirty car window vigorously.
When I wiped it, my heart skipped a beat. The glass was really soft, more obvious than when I touched it just now.
But for a moment I didn’t know whether it was because we had not moved for a long time and had stopped sightseeing, which caused dereliction of duty in terms of identity; or was it that the erosion of the gray fog was so unreasonable.
Maybe both.
I estimated that we were only a few hundred meters away from the town. I squinted my eyes again to look at the buildings in the fog, and I felt it was very strange.
The houses seemed to be in a state of melting, but were stuck there without any further changes, so in the end, the entire outline had a rough edge that seemed to be sliding down, and it was all dark.
After looking at the mist for a long time, I felt that the particles were very fine.
The snowflakes I had seen in the past seemed to be larger and looser, not this fine, dense dust-like texture.
I couldn't find the right adjective for a moment, but the feeling on my body, which was hard to tell whether it was extremely cold or scorching hot, made me break out in cold sweat, and the sweat soon wet my back.
What are those mists and snow-capped mountains at the end of the field of vision?
Although I was thinking, I didn't stop talking. I kept on talking nonsense and explained to them every flaw of the dilapidated houses.
But no one was in the mood to listen carefully. After a while, as the town gradually became clearer in front of my eyes, my sleeves sank again. It was Nian Ziqing who grabbed my arm tightly again.
"...Don't look." I sighed in my heart and said without any context, "Just focus on the scenery and don't worry about us."
Having said that, my mouth is also numb with bitterness.
Because after I cleaned the car windows, people's reflections became easier to see.
The scene reflected to me by the soft mirror surface through the fog was creepy.
First, it’s the driver, Lao Zhao.
He was almost glued to the seat in the cab.
As the prophecy came true, the driver's only responsibility was to drive.
Therefore, apart from a pair of short arms resting on the steering wheel, a pair of legs stepping on the accelerator and clutch, and Lao Zhao's cloudy eyes, all other parts that were dispensable to the "driver" were covered with the spreading bright red.
The six-year-old Ruirui was not wrong in describing the bright and juicy red color. It really looked like sprouts, coming out little by little from the inside out.
His entire appearance began to become increasingly blurred, but it was indeed gradually approaching the appearance he had once disguised himself as.
The hair was the first to fall off, no, to slide off. Then the whole body sank and widened, and at first glance, it looked fat.
Just like a lit candle, layer by layer it melts, and the wax pushes outwards and stacks up, changing from long and thin to short and thick.
It was as if the power of "wishes come true" had finally arrived at this moment, spanning sixteen years, and fulfilling the unintentional words of a little girl.
Now that thing can no longer be called Lao Zhao, it is just a driver.
Those cloudy eyes were staring straight at the main road outside the window, as if they were extremely focused and obsessed. They couldn't listen, see, speak, or think.
It might have been an auditory hallucination, but I certainly felt the bright red burns dripping from it and hitting the floor of the car.
“Pah.”
It was very slight, probably the same sound as the ice chips mixed in the snow falling to the ground.
The floor of the bus seems to be made of plastic, so it should have good fire retardant properties...
A weird thought flashed through my mind as I continued to talk about meaningless things. I didn't turn my head or lower it as I felt my body gradually becoming stiff.
It's not because of psychological fear, it's because I'm really stiff.
Perhaps I still have many unnecessary functions as a "tour guide".
The car can turn its head and face the surrounding scenery to introduce the passengers to the scenery in all directions. The tongue and mouth remain warm and moist, so the car can continue to speak flexibly. The vision and hearing are not affected too much.
However, the whole body seemed to be fixed on a very narrow turntable and could not move.
Cold sweat continued to ooze out of my back, and for a moment, I suspected that I would soon go into dehydration shock.
Behind me, the young man sitting in the last row of seats also sat in a daze, opening his mouth in vain.
Maybe he said something, maybe not.
What are the necessary functions for tourists?
I was in a daze for a moment, and then the horn in the car suddenly honked violently.
The driver stepped on the accelerator suddenly, the engine and the fuel gauge started spinning synchronously, and with a bang, the whole bus reached the highway and took us into the fog of the small town.
The car drove straight into the fog, making almost no sound, and knocked off a roadside sign.
With an extremely clear "hiss" sound, the front shell of the car turned slightly red, visibly, and then became dented due to the impact.
I woke up with a start and almost screamed.
The flying signboard suddenly ignited with Yin Fire, emitting a small cluster of light, which was immediately swallowed up by the gray-white color.
"Volcanic ash!"
I heard myself yelling at the top of my lungs. "It's not a snowy mountain, it's an active volcano. The fog is filled with volcanic ash!"
As the vehicle bumped violently in the fog, it knocked over countless roadside debris. Amid the loud bangs and clangs, the fog moved and suddenly separated with some kind of startling chill, flying over and surrounding our bus.
This time we can see that there is not only dust in the fog, but also fine and dense insect eggs that look like crushed ice and make people feel cold to the bone.
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