The dog saw the sleeping fat man, and immediately called Pizi, asking Pizi to send information about the tomb, and soon Pizi sent the information about the tomb, it turned out that the tomb was not a simple tomb, this tomb used to be a castle, and then after the castle sank, there was a tomb, so there are many pillars around the tomb, about the castle, Pizi did not find much information, only an article, it seems to be written by a friend of the castle, but it reads like a horror novel, The article goes like this:

That autumn, on a gloomy, dark, silent day, dark clouds hung low and covered the earth heavily. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 info All day, I rode alone on horseback through a bleak wilderness in the countryside. At the end of the twilight, the sad Pavilions were finally in sight. I can't tell what happened, but when I caught a glimpse of the building, my heart was filled with unbearable sadness. It is said to be unbearable, because in the past, even in a barbaric place or a terrible and miserable place, encountering that kind of incomparably harsh natural scene, it is inevitable to have a little poetry, and even a little joy; Today, this sad feeling always lingers. I looked at the scene in front of me with a sad heart.

I looked at the lonely mansion and the single landscape in the manor, at the desolate walls, the windows like empty eyes, the three or five reeds with a bad smell, and a few dead trees with white flowers, and the emotions of the world were incomparable, only compared with the feeling of the people who dyed hibiscus after dreaming back, my heart was churning, and it was sinking coldly, so desolate that it was irreredeemable, no matter how much it stimulated people's imagination, it was difficult to say that this was the sublimation of the soul. What's going on? I thought about it. What is it that makes me so uncontrollable when I look at Usher House? It's a mystery that can't be solved. In contemplation, vague fantasies flood my mind, but they are unpredictable. I had no choice but to settle for the next best thing and justify myself – simple natural scenery together does have the power to influence people's emotions, but to dissect this appeal, even if you try your best, there is no trace of it. I thought about it, the grass and trees, the mountains and the rivers in this scene are only slightly different in the subtle arrangement, and the sad feeling brought to people may be alleviated, or it may be eliminated. With this thought in mind, I rode my horse to the dangerous shore of a small lake in the mountains. The small lake was next to the house, the surface of the lake was shiny, but there was not a ripple, it was dark and gloomy, reflecting the deformed gray reeds, the white trunks, and the hollow eyes of the windows. I looked down at the lake, trembling, even stranger than I had just felt.

For now, however, I intend to spend a few weeks in this gloomy mansion. The owner of this castle, Su Anxin, was a good friend of mine from my childhood. We haven't seen each other in years. Recently, however, I received a letter from a distant part of my country, from him, and it was written with such urgency that I had to go there myself. In his handwritten letter, there is obviously a smell of nervousness. He mentioned that he was suffering from a serious illness - a mental insanity that had afflicted him so much, and that he really wanted to see me, my best friend and only confidant, who could stay with me happily for a while, and that his illness would be relieved. Quan Xin said a lot like this. His request was clearly sincere, and one could not hesitate for a moment. So, I was immediately invited to leave. It's coming, it's coming, but I still think that his summoning is really strange.

Although we were close childhood friends, I really didn't know much about this friend. He always had reservations, and it became his habit. But what I know very well is that long ago, his ancestors were known for their sentimentality. For many years, this characteristic has always been reflected in noble works of art; More recently, it has manifested itself in the form of one generous but unobtrusive charity event after another, fascinated by the complexity of music rather than its unanimously recognized, understandable beauty. I also know an unusual fact, Su Anxin has his Chinese name, he is a mixed race, his father is a foreigner, his mother is Chinese, and his father is a duke, although he has always been respected, but has never had an immortal collateral descendant, in other words, this family belongs to a single generation. 、

As I said above, the slightly childish act of looking down on the lake only exacerbated the strange sadness that had been felt earlier. Undoubtedly, this rapidly pervasive sense of superstition - why not call it superstition? -- It's only going to get heavier. I've known for a long time that only when I think about it in my heart can I feel terrible. It's a ridiculous law. Perhaps it was for this reason that when I stopped looking at the reflections in the water and looked up at the mansion again, I had a strange illusion in my heart. The illusion was so ridiculous, really, that I mentioned it to illustrate the power of tormenting thoughts. I was so cranky that I really believed that there was an aura permeating the entire mansion and the entire manor, and that it was contaminated with the surrounding area. The breath was very different from the atmosphere in the sky, but wafted out of the dead wood, the gray walls, and the stagnant water, gloomy, sluggish, and indistinguishable from the dust, like a plague.

I shook off the dreams in my mind and took a closer look at the mansion as it really was. It seems that its main feature is that it is extremely old, and the traces of time have faded its bright colors. The walls are covered with tiny fungi that hang haphazardly under the eaves like spider webs. But I couldn't find anything that was particularly damaged. Not a single wall is down. The parts are well coordinated and uniform, but the individual stones are broken and look very incongruous. It reminded me of the old woodwork in the cellar that no one cared about, which for many years had not been able to blow a single breeze outside, and that seemed intact, but in fact had rotted for years. However, apart from the apparent decay, the entire building does not look crumbling at all. If I looked closely, I might find a tiny crack, which began on the front roof, zigzagged down the wall, and disappeared into the gloomy melancholy I noticed it all and rode along a short causeway to the door of the mansion. A squire took the reins of the horse. I stepped into the Gothic hall arch. A tiptoeing manservant silently led me through the dimly lit and winding corridors to my master's studio. For some reason, the scenery I saw along the way made the vague melancholy I mentioned above even worse. Everything around me—the carvings on the ceiling, the black draperies, the jet-black floor, the phantom cloaking armor that made a "click" sound — I was used to seeing it when I was a child. I admit without hesitation that everything is familiar, but I am still amazed at how these ordinary objects can arouse such strange fantasies! On one of the stairs, I met his doctor. He looked treacherous and confused, and he shuddered to talk to me, and then slipped away. Then the manservant suddenly opened the door and led me to his master.

(To be continued.) )