Internal and external troubles, contrary rules
Blocked by the iron sheet and sealed glass of the bus, the fog hit it and made a tinkling sound like rain.
As the car crashed, I saw the eggs hanging on the outside of the car with the cold air. The windshield that had just been wiped became blurry in an instant, covered with a dense layer of grayish white.
The driver still kept his foot on the accelerator, staring straight ahead without moving. The entire bus was buzzing wildly as it broke through the dense fog, smashing the insect eggs still hovering in the air into pieces, and constantly hitting roadside debris.
Amid the violent scraping and shaking, the sound of insect eggs bursting was also added, spewing out balls of cold air that hit the iron shell outside the car, and frost began to form visibly with the naked eye.
I cried out in my heart, "Oh no!" Sure enough, the next second, the glass that had softened in the high temperature suddenly encountered the extremely low temperature and became brittle. With two clacking sounds, several huge cracks spread across the front glass of the car.
It was useless to count on the out-of-control driver at this time. I kicked hard on his leg that was pressing on the accelerator, and used one hand to frantically hit the wiper button.
With the current strength of glass, if it is hit by more fog and insect eggs, it will probably shatter and explode soon. By then, the evil things outside will rush in and we will be dead!
Quick! Move!
The driver was kicked so hard that he almost lost control of the steering wheel, causing the bus to make a sharp turn and slide. I was sweating all over, grabbed the steering wheel, kicked his legs away, and squeezed my right leg over to occupy space near the accelerator.
This movement was almost completely within the limit of my range of motion. After only a few seconds, the pain of near dislocation caused my stiff body to throb with pain.
Fortunately, as the bus resumed its slow speed, the amplitude of the fog fluctuations actually slowed down.
I was sweating as I put my entire weight on the driver to prevent him from moving. With my eyes dizzy, I controlled the bus that was about to hit a residential building, slowly changed its route, and pushed the bus back to the main road.
As the vehicles returned to the road, the fog returned to its dead silence.
"hiss……"
The damn wipers finally turned on.
The eggs on the windshield were not firmly attached, and after being repeatedly brushed by the windshield wipers, they began to fall off sparsely. Only a portion of the nearly frozen mucus was gradually spread evenly on the glass, casting a gray filter on the view outside the window.
I couldn't ask for more at this point, and I breathed a sigh of relief, almost fainting.
After estimating the time needed to drive across the main road, the car window creaked a few times and cracked again with a dozen spider-like cracks, looking precarious.
"……Grass."
I gasped in panic, squeezing out all the curse words, and in my messed up thoughts, I forced myself to continue explaining the rough edges of the building outside the window.
Now my mind is completely blank, and I don’t know what I’ve been talking about.
But now, I finally have time to look at the third person in the car again, the young man who seemed to be out of the matter from just now.
Compared with the driver, it is hard to say whether his condition is good or bad.
Yes, I want to describe the irrational scene in the car again.
Just before the car suddenly accelerated and veered off the road, I was interrupted from observing what I saw in its entirety:
A young man, a tourist, was sitting in the last row of the bus. I was standing next to the driver's cab and had just wiped the windshield clean with a rag on the front platform. A hand belonging to a young man was still holding my arm tightly.
——Young people, some of them appear at the front and rear of the car.
In other words, he spread out.
The arm that was pulling at me probably didn't realize that human limbs are not like aerial roots of trees. After a section is cut off, it is impossible for them to continue to live, and they cannot be transplanted anywhere else to sprout again.
The young man in the back row didn't realize it either. He was still asking with some caution and anxiety:
"What volcanic ash? Didn't you say it was a snowy mountain? It's cold and hot at the same time, what on earth is that? Why are you talking nonsense?"
While speaking, his other intact hand was bent in a very strange posture, raised high, and covered his eyelids tightly.
Yes, he didn't even realize how much had happened in just a few minutes.
But at that moment, I actually understood some very filthy and twisted logic, and understood why his body reacted like this on its own:
Because it is common sense that tourists know nothing about the scenery along the way.
So his inspiration was one step faster than his reason, and he instinctively stopped himself from seeing and understanding the surrounding scenery before I, the tour guide, explained it.
Covering your eyelids and not looking ahead, closing your mind and not thinking ahead, and acting confused as if you don't understand what I say... these are all subconscious self-protection measures.
The will to live is making him blind and stupid.
Only that small piece of arm was holding me with increasing force, tightening continuously.
I lowered my head in a daze, looking at the arm, and after a while, I suddenly realized.
It turned out that they were not stopping me or reminding me of anything, but rather the dissatisfied urging of tourists, because my explanation speed involuntarily slowed down due to fatigue and fear.
Moreover, the arm was slowly crawling up my forearm like a snail, and its knuckles were hitting my bones again and again.
"...Next, let me introduce our town."
I said hoarsely, biting my tongue hard.
It's not that the changes in young people are not terrifying enough, nor is it that I can take this kind of abnormality for granted.
It was just that there were internal and external troubles. As the vehicle went deeper into the town and approached the "snow mountain" on the distant horizon...
Everything that emerged in front of the car window eventually captured me with overwhelming confusion and fear, leaving me almost numb.
Yes, the scene before my eyes is beyond my ability to comprehend or summarize using logic or common sense.
Because two images appeared in front of me at the same time.
One picture shows a small town in the early morning light. The morning sun is dim, emitting light like a hairy egg. But it is already very hot, and the bright red fire horns are trembling and about to burst out.
Under the scorching sun, the deserted town on a sunny day was covered with thick gray-white dust, and there was a dead silence everywhere. The air was slightly distorted in the scorching heat, and volcanic ash was also diffused in the air. There was no sound anywhere.
The pungent smell of sulfur is very obvious, and the whole old town seems like the long-forgotten ancient city of Pompeii.
Another scene is a hazy night with a white, huge, one-eyed moon looking down. In the distance are towering snow-capped mountains, with large expanses of almost holy white spreading out along the snow line.
This time the town is lively, newer, bigger, cleaner and tidier.
In the noisy town, I even saw people hawking their wares along the way.
At the hot barbecue stall, a large number of customers were either sitting or standing, feasting on the food.
Because of the cold, white air was coming out of everyone's mouth and nose.
Everything was very vivid and full of vitality, including the densely packed insect eggs that were resting on the guests' bodies, which were also spewing out white, almost light blue mist, expanding and contracting with each movement.
Two completely different pictures and perceptions overlapped in a completely inverted way at this moment, shattering all my common sense and functional senses.
The sun and moon, which belong to the moving mouse, are suspended together, reflecting and overlapping the completely opposite scenes and concepts. In a certain madness, they are ambiguously interpreted as the same indescribable thing.
Yes, day is night, life is death, heat is cold, snow-capped mountains are volcanoes, and burns are frostbite.
People who are extremely cold will feel their blood boiling and burning, and eventually freeze to death in the frantic sensation of heat. Isn't this an actual example that exists in real life?
How... how reasonable and orderly this is.
Like some kind of murmuring whisper, a voice sighed in my heart almost intoxicatedly.
For no reason, the subconscious fear forced me to lower my head and bend over deeply. The muttered explanations turned into fragmented self-talk in the chaos.
It seemed to be my own voice, but it was very strange, speaking to myself frantically:
I want to...I want to avoid the daytime.
I shouldn't have taken tourists on a sightseeing trip under the scorching sun.
I shouldn't have told my visitors that I was leaving.
The daytime sun is too hot, I want to escape to the moon. I want to hide in the night, hide from the gaze of the white single eye.
Yes, yes, avoid the daylight. Didn't I do that at the beginning of my journey?
-When danger strikes, I sit in my car, avoid the daytime, and repeat silently in the night, explaining the scenery or related gossips to my tourists.
It doesn’t matter, my visitors will always be there, always listening.
He, he won't leave, because he can't, he's trapped in the wall.
Behind me, the wall was covered with scratches from the cat, and in the narrow gap was the person in the wall.
He couldn't do anything, not even talk to me about anything other than the scenery, which was not allowed as a tourist.
Tourists are not allowed to know more than the tour guide, nor are they allowed to remind the tour guide or make any explanations for the tour guide.
So he could only keep his mouth shut, keeping a secret, and wait with great patience until I gave the correct interpretation.
But whenever I speak, he listens—
“Boom!”
The uncontrolled bus jolted violently, and I subconsciously tightened my grip and grabbed the steering wheel, my nails digging into my flesh.
No, that's not right, this memory is not like that.
It's not this rule, it's not about the convoy! That's my sentry box and guards, definitely not the tour bus and tourists! The incident and time of the Goddess happened later!
——I’m not a tour guide, I’m Xu Ranxing!
A kind of fear and panic after waking up suddenly interrupted my chaotic and noisy thoughts. My out-of-focus eyes regained focus and I was shocked. The stinging feeling made me realize that I had just bitten my tongue.
It felt like a steel bar was stirring in my brain, and the intense pain and feeling of separation made me scream.
Amidst the long-lost pain and delirium, the snapping sound creeped closer, and finally, something extremely wet and soft touched my ankle.
It was like something was sucking into the old wound on my ankle and drilling into it, and the burning sensation made me shiver with cold.
Then, without me paying attention, I felt my skin throbbing, and finally a moving red mark suddenly appeared, then spread out and turned into a bright red burn.
Now, I finally understand why driver Lao Zhao could endure all kinds of strange situations and still stay alive.
I experienced firsthand what that “burn” was all about.
It's not just volcanoes and snow-capped mountains, day and night, cold and heat, silence and noise. In Moving Rat, it seems that many concepts and norms are reversed.
The same distortion was brought about by this thing that was crawling over me.
That feeling... that feeling, it's like...
It was as if an invisible hand was turning me inside out like a plastic bag.
People can indeed be bright red. Under the skin, on that side, it is a bright and vibrant red, closely connected with the yellowish fat.
It’s just that under normal circumstances, people show the other side of their skin.
When I jokingly said I wanted to buy a flowered jacket, I found many shirt styles that were no longer fashionable. One of them was two-color inside and outside, so if one side got dirty and worn, you could turn the other side inside out and wear it again.
No matter how you turn it, a shirt is still a shirt and in that sense remains intact.
This seems to be the rule of distortion.
But, at first it was the driver Lao Zhao, and now it’s my turn.
At this moment, the distorted me is the complete two-color shirt.
Naturally, I then had a vague question:
A bag filled with sundries is tightened by a pair of hands and turned inside out, and everything inside will be poured out.
——What will happen if the person is turned inside out?
It seemed like he responded to my doubts very considerately, or maybe it was mysterious that understood that a "tour guide" should not be too ignorant, so he patiently answered my questions.
The driver in the driving seat saw those large clusters of bright red that were blooming like flowers suddenly move, revealing wisps of greasy light yellow.
The next moment, it was not an illusion, I felt myself slowly tensing up as well.
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