"See what?" Zhao Zimai was still depressed by it saying that he was "empty", but now he suddenly bumped into its burning and shining eyes, and a chill suddenly burned in his heart, and he turned his head along its gaze.

Sang didn't answer, it was still there, until, the two black shadows ran out of the side of the courtyard in a panic, getting closer and closer to them.

It was two woodcutters, one carrying a bundle of firewood behind him, and both of them were running as fast as if something was chasing them after them. When they passed by several people, they were both startled, and one of them had firewood that fell and spilled on the ground.

"Why are you so flustered?" Zhao Zimai asked the woodcutter who was busy picking up firewood while dragging Mu Cripple, who had already started singing, to his side.

"There are ghosts, there are ghosts, there are ghosts in the mountains"

The woodcutter's teeth were chattering, but Zhao Zimai could hear the words clearly.

"Ghost, in the mountains?" Once again, the barren mountain behind it was now completely swallowed up by the night, and the undulating mountains were vaguely barely visible, except for a few faint outlines.

"There are many, so many ghosts, a large group, we can't see them, we can only hear them stepping on the pine needles, if they don't run away quickly, I'm afraid they will be eaten"

After saying this incoherently, the woodcutter finally picked up all the firewood on the ground and tied it up again, he glanced at Zhao Zimai, as if he did not understand why they did not flee for their lives, and then hurried forward with his companions, and the footsteps were soon inaudible.

"Great Immortal" Zhao Zimai just wanted to ask, but was "booed" by Sang, so he quickly swallowed the second half of the sentence into his stomach.

"Do you hear that?" It asked softly.

"What?" When these two words were asked, Zhao Zimai heard the voice that Sang said, "crackling", the same as what the woodcutter said, the sound of pine needles and cypress leaves being trampled off. Not one, but a flock, like reckless grass and trees, but not coming towards them, but withdrawing into the mountains and forests, for the sound grew quieter and quieter, as if swept away by the howling mountain wind.

"What is this?"

As soon as the words came out, his arms suddenly sank, Sang pushed Baotian towards him, said "wait for me", and ran towards the mountains and forests behind the Wubi Pavilion with an arrow step, and the sassy figure quickly disappeared into the night. At the same time, Baotian in his arms burped, wrapped one hand around Zhao Zimai's neck, and muttered two words in his mouth: "I want wine." ”

Zhao Zimai knelt on one knee on the ground, and grabbed Baotian and Mu Cripple's necks with his two hands respectively, he had been waiting for Sang for nearly half an hour, and he really couldn't support these two drunks, so he could only let them sit back to back on the ground, and he used his arms to support the two of them to prevent them from falling.

Mu Cripple was already asleep, snoring loudly, Baotian was still talking drunk, stopped saying a few words, and after a while, he began to say a few more words like a corpse, and from time to time Zhao Zimai broke out in a cold sweat.

After barely holding the two drunks up, Zhao Zimai frowned and looked at the barren mountain: Sang has been gone for so long and has not come back, is there something wrong? Thinking of this, he suddenly panicked in his heart, but when he thought about it, it is so powerful, what can trap it? It should only be a little troublesome, and there is no need to worry about it so much.

Zhao Zimai devoted all his attention to dealing with the two drunks, his arm was now so sore that it was about to break, and his knees were kneeling on the cold and hard floor, and the pain was terrible. But these two people were still unconscious, Mu Cripple was sleeping soundly, his body unconsciously fell to the side, and he had to desperately grab his collar. Baotian, on the other hand, hung on Zhao Zimai's other arm and pressed all the weight of his body up.

Zhao Zimai felt that he was going to die of exhaustion at the hands of these two people, but at this moment, he heard a voice, a voice that should not appear in such a quiet night.

Chewing sounds.

"Cluck, cluck"

That thing seemed to be chewing on a hard bone, and the force was so great that Zhao Zimai felt that his teeth were starting to hurt.

"Click"

The bone seemed to be bitten to pieces, but the thing was not satisfied, and continued to suck the remaining bone marrow inside, sucking it with relish, as if this was the supreme delicacy it had ever tasted.

What is it?

Zhao Zimai looked in the direction of the sound, and in front of his door, squirming rhythmically, he stuck out his tongue at a piece of leftover bone scrap on the ground, and swallowed them all into his stomach.

He didn't know what it was, perhaps, just a stray wild dog?

The idea was quickly rejected by himself, for the thing suddenly stood up and straightened, and a dog might have stood up on two hind legs, but it could never have been clothed, though it was a ragged rag, so tattered that the raged fabric of the cloth had fallen and dragged to the ground.

There was something wrapped in the clothes that couldn't be called **, because Zhao Zimai felt that the thing would flow, a very uncomfortable kind of flow, as if the muscles and bones under its skin had been crispy and melted away, and water could gush out with a slight poke of his fingers.

He couldn't see its face clearly, for a few strands of long, gray-white hair hung down from the top of its head and down to its chest, decaying as if it could be broken at any moment, but it was still blowing in the wind. However, Zhao Zimai was glad that he couldn't see its face, because he didn't know if he had the strength to take the fire gun out of his clothes after seeing its appearance clearly.

"Hungry, hungry"

After letting out a roar that was not human, it stretched out its arms, its sleeves hanging in front of its hands, and walked slowly in the direction of Zhao Zimai. The moonlight could not shine on its shadow, but the wind blew its clothes backwards, making it look like a large spider with teeth and claws.

As if his heart was being crushed by an ice lump repeatedly, Zhao Zimai gasped hard, aimed the black hole of the fire gun at the figure that was getting closer and closer, and pulled the trigger.

With a "poof", the bullet seemed to hit a piece of cotton soaked in water, and the thing stopped, and after being stunned for a moment, it walked towards Zhao Zimai again, and the pace was faster than the original. Bullets can't hurt it, he knows that bullets kill the living, but they don't kill the dead.

"Hungry"

It approached, and under the moonlight, the flabby, shriveled and yellowed face finally appeared in front of Zhao Zimai's eyes, and every time it moved, the flesh on its face shook violently, as if it could fall off at any time.