After a long stalemate, the wax tears from the candle solidified quickly and stained the surface of the candlestick.
There was silence and darkness all around, with only the vague figures of people outside, flashing clearly in the light of lightning, and then disappearing in the darkness.
But Fan Zhiyi knew that it had not left, so he did not dare to make any movement.
Suddenly, the gap in the paper door was punctured, and in its place appeared a pair of bloodshot pupils, which rolled up and down and then locked onto Fan Zhiyi and Xiaoman.
"There are people, there are people." The last word was drawn out with a strange laugh.
Almost without hesitation, Xiaoman drew out a dagger in each hand, rushed forward and stabbed and pulled out the eye. Fan Zhiyi heard the painful wailing of ghosts outside. The sound was extremely penetrating, as if it could pierce Fan Zhiyi's eardrum.
Xiaoman took the opportunity to turn the dagger in her hand into a more convenient grip, then ran back and grabbed Fan Zhiyi's hand: "Excuse me, sir!"
In order to take Fan Zhiyi away, Xiaoman didn't care about anything else. In a panic, her palms pressed together. Fan Zhiyi heard Xiaoman's inner voice: "No matter what, I must protect the young master."
Fan Zhiyi was stunned, looking at the young man's back, he frowned, this feeling was very familiar, something was about to come out, like a name, like a back, a person who would always protect him, but Fan Zhiyi couldn't say anything, he didn't remember, he didn't know what he wanted, he seemed to have lost something very important, his heart was empty.
But there was no time to think too much, Xiaoman had already put her other hand around Fan Zhiyi's shoulders and rushed out with him.
In a moment of desperation, Fan Zhiyi threw the candlestick away, and a raging flame began to burn inside the house. Although it was raining heavily outside, the fire was unlikely to burn very big, but he hoped that someone would quickly notice that something was wrong and take the time to save his life, no matter who it was.
Lightning illuminated the corridor in bright and dark colors, and heavy rain fell, covering up many sounds.
The rain kept falling, the splashing water, the damp air, the deserted old house amidst thunder and lightning, everything looked like a scene from a horror movie. If it were in the past, Fan Zhiyi would never have come to such a suicidal place.
The corridor's dilapidated floor was completely wet, making a dull thud when stepped on. Some tiles on the roof were broken, causing leaks. Fan Zhiyi's clothes had become sticky again, clinging to his body. But who could care less now? Escaping was the most important thing.
Fan Zhiyi didn't dare to look back. He almost hid under Xiaoman's protection and let Xiaoman lead him to run.
But not long after, Xiaoman uttered a muffled groan and lost his balance unexpectedly, falling to his knees. The voice in his heart came through his palms: "It hurts so much, I don't want to die."
Fan Zhiyi looked over and found that one of his daggers was stuck in his thigh for some reason, and the other one was covered in blood and was held tightly in Xiaoman's hand.
Fan Zhiyi didn't know what had just happened, but Xiaoman let go of him in time and pushed him before he knelt down, then turned his head and swung out the dagger. There was a faint golden light on the dagger, but it didn't hit anything and fell back into Xiaoman's hand.
Xiaoman gritted his teeth and pulled out the weapon that was supposed to be his from his leg. He stood up with unsteady steps, stood vigilantly behind Fan Zhiyi, and continued to move forward while holding him.
It was obvious that Xiaoman's pace and breathing were not as steady as at the beginning, and his expression was also filled with fear and panic.
Fan Zhiyi took the opportunity to glance around, but saw nothing. The ghosts' movements were erratic, and the house gave them a boost, while the darkness provided the perfect shield. They were in the light, while the enemy was in the dark.
The whistling wind, carrying moisture, stirred Fan Zhiyi's hair. Fan Zhiyi knew that they were following them closely. Like the male protagonist, they had bad personalities and were good at playing tricks. They enjoyed the frightened and panicked faces of these intruders.
"Baibai." Fan Zhiyi called out, and before he could give any orders, Baibai, who was in rare sync with him, directly called out the red dots around him. There were more of them than before, and it seemed that all the ghosts were surrounding them.
What can I say? They made too much noise and attracted so many things. So the content on Xiaoman’s note is true?
"Host, you should stay away from Xiaoman. He doesn't look normal."
After Baibai's reminder, Fan Zhiyi looked over and saw Xiaoman's lips were dark purple. She stared around nervously, but she still held Fan Zhiyi tightly in her arms and ran with him.
He had clearly taken Fan Zhiyi's poor eyesight into consideration and was protecting him, but now he ran very fast without caring about anything. Even with Baibai's help, Fan Zhiyi still almost fell.
He looked ahead and realized that this escape route was completely wrong and had completely deviated from Master Fan's residence. However, Xiaoman seemed to be unaware of this and continued running, leading him directly into the rain.
Fan Zhiyi's eyes were blurred by the rain and he could hardly open them for a while. He struggled, but Xiaoman was very strong and Fan Zhiyi could not break free. He could only be dragged away staggeringly.
"We're here, we're safe here." Xiaoman muttered to himself.
Fan Zhiyi blinked hard, wondering where they had run to. The weeds here had grown to his knees.
"Host, there is a dry well ahead. You don't want to know what's inside."
When Fan Zhiyi heard this, he struggled even more violently. This action obviously angered Xiaoman, who stabbed Fan Zhiyi's arm with a dagger.
The stab went through, and Fan Zhiyi screamed in pain. At the same time, he met Xiaoman's eyes, which were crazy and violent, while Xiaoman's face was pale and did not look like that of a living person at all.
This is not Xiaoman! Fan Zhiyi had a bad idea that Xiaoman was possessed.
"Brother, you have to be obedient, okay? You won't be afraid if you hide in the well. They said they all hid in the well. I'm doing this for your own good!"
"Give Xiaoman's body back to me!" Fan Zhiyi felt pain in his head and slapped him, his palms numb.
Fan Zhiyi had heard of many solutions to the problem of possession, such as pinching the middle finger with red chopsticks, hitting the back of the possessed person with incense sticks, or shouting insults to scare the ghost away.
But this is not the real world. All the rules here are given by the creator, so the slap just now was just Fan Zhiyi's instinct. However, Fan Zhiyi reacted quickly. The next second, he thought of the ghost-exorcism technique he had learned. He immediately made a gesture with his hands, silently recited the formula, and tapped Xiaoman's eyebrows.
Success or failure depends on this one move.
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