The vision in front of him gradually cleared, and a dull light shone through the window, hitting the retina that had just woken up.

A few wisps of dust drifted through the room, and the dry, rotten, musty air filled the nasal passages.

009 opened his eyes, and in front of him was the old monk of the dragon bell and the faint sound of the wooden fish.

Everything is the same as it was at the beginning.

He shifted a little confused, but he calmed down in a moment.

He remembered that his throat had been torn and that the cold air had filled his bloody trachea—

It doesn't feel like a fake.

The humid air of the rainy night seemed to be still weighing heavily on him, and fear was already stirring in his heart, and he frowned quietly.

So is he dead or not?

The sound of the wooden fish slowly stopped, and the light of the stained glass hit the old monk's body, and when he saw that he did not speak, he sighed and said slowly:

"You, it's been this problem since you were a child, and you haven't changed it until now - it's just that, you can wipe it after a while, after all, it's for your good......"

Nan Ke, who was originally confused, stiffened.

He'd heard that.

When he first came here, the old monk said this, and it seemed that his tone and tone had not changed, it was exactly the same.

He stood up violently, but the Buddha beads on his wrist suddenly broke, and the round beads fell from the line and fell to the ground with a "clanging clang", which was particularly loud in the empty room.

The old monk in front of him looked at him in surprise, and an unknown light flashed in his cloudy eyes.

009 also reacted to the inappropriateness of his behavior at this time, and hurriedly walked the aisle according to the etiquette of Buddhism:

"It's the disciple's fault, it's just that those are the painstaking efforts of the disciples, and it's really a bit of a part...... It's ......"

He pretended to be overly emotionally out of shape because he had to wipe the paintings.

The old monk interrupted him:

"Good, good, you have always taken the things you draw as a treasure, but the things you paint are so hideous, how can it be the way of Buddhism?"

009 thought about the hideous owls, but was silent.

The old monk also seemed to be tired, he straightened his clothes, closed his eyes and continued to knock his wooden fish:

"Let's go, go wipe those things."

His old dragon clock's face was reflected in the colorful light of the demon, but a few traces of kindness were extinguished for no reason.

009 felt that something seemed wrong, so he saluted, picked up the beads on the ground, and walked out of the house.

Su Que floated behind him, but his eyes were staring at the old monk.

It was still the temple on the top of the mountain, and the wind from the mountains interspersed with the dilapidated temple, hitting the face coolly, making every pore of the body relax.

009 let out a long sigh of relief, and he felt that he needed to gather his thoughts urgently.

What he saw before should not have been his fantasy, but it did happen-

He died on that stormy night.

Everything that happened before seemed to him now, each of them seemed to be independent, but it knocked him out at the moment of connection.

So everything has to be analyzed slowly from the beginning, and the most important thing is to find the murderer first.

At present, among the people he has come into contact with, there are only old monks and faceless monks, and in a sense, the possibility of a faceless monk is higher, after all, he has already discovered that he is an impostor by someone else.

But this does not seem to be the conclusive proof that he is the murderer.

009 thought about it and turned off the same path he had taken last time, instead heading straight for his yard.

He met the faceless monk around the corner, but this time he didn't want to meet him so soon, and the top priority was to look for clues in his courtyard first.

He always felt that those owls were not simple.

A Buddhist man painted black owls all over the wall, either forgetting the dust or this temple was strange, coupled with the old monk's eagerness to let him wipe off those things, which strengthened the speculation that those paintings were not simple.

The key point of the dungeon is the vitality of the whole event.

The dappled light shone against the faded bricks of the temple, showing the signs of age becoming more and more vicissitudes, and the heavy wooden doors were opened, splashing dust on the ground.

009 stood in his yard, still looking at the fierce owls, he took a deep breath, resisting the desire to wipe them away and walked into the house.

He's not a fool, just a few paintings make him want to wipe it so much, there's nothing boring in this and he doesn't even believe it, the biggest possibility is that the copy is doing something here.

009 walked quickly to his room, and everything here was no different than the first time.

It's still an owl all over the sky, and the forest is full of screen porcelain.

009 lowered his eyes, trying not to look at those things, even though he didn't know that this was an anti-theft copy, he also knew that in each copy, life and death were often only a thought.

He put the beads in his pocket and opened the dusty cabinet, which was full of dust, but it didn't seem to hinder his search.

A quarter of an hour later, he had rummaged through almost all the cabinets, only to find nothing, the wooden boxes bare, as if they had been deliberately hidden.

He pursed his lips, thought for a moment, and then reached under the edge of the cabinet, groped for a long time, and sure enough, found a cloth bag tied to it.

He used to hide something like this in order to prevent others from seeing it, but he didn't expect it to coincide with Forgotten Dust's thoughts.

He unwrapped the cloth bag, but a strong smell of rat poison wafted out, and he quickly covered his nose without further exploration.

There are several pieces of diary paper wrapped in the bag, which seem to be forgotten dusty diaries, the paper has been yellowed, and it seems that it was not written recently.

009 looked through a few photos and found that they were all trivial things in the temple, he looked at them with great interest, and found that the old monk was indeed a person whom Wuchen respected very much, and he had a good relationship with other people in the temple.

As he read it line by line, he suddenly noticed that the contents of the diary had suddenly changed one day:

May 26, fine

Today there was a sudden rat plague in the temple, the abbot asked us to remove the rats, really a lot, densely packed in a place, in the afternoon a donor came to incense were scared away.

May 27, fine

The process of exterminating the rats was very fast, and we worked very hard, and the abbot smiled kindly, saying that he would treat us well.

May 30, cloudy

Today's rats have all been removed, and we and the abbot are very happy.

May 31, overcast

Somehow, Senior Brother Kongyuan died in the grass, and we were very sad.

At this point in the diary, the process was suddenly accelerated, and judging by the sloppy handwriting, it is not difficult to see the author's panic and fear.

June 3, cloudy

A lot of people died in the temple, the rat plague came again, the abbot was busy taking care of the aftermath, and only a few of us were getting rid of the rats.

June 8, cloudy

Today's abbot is strange that he suddenly stopped letting us get rid of the rats.

June 19, sunny

I know...... It's it!

009 flipped through it, and a large part of the diary had been torn away, and the torn paper fibers were strung in the diary.

Finally, he found a line of small print in the last one:

[I painted the walls all over the owls, hoping to fend them off.] 】

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