"Finally remembered? Zhang Qingyuan. ”

An unfamiliar, slightly muffled voice sounded behind him.

"Ah, I remember, Uncle Wang, thank you, of course, and ......," I paused, and continued.

"Lin Rui, hehe, I didn't expect him to be a green ghost."

Everything is in my mind, and I think about it, why Lin Rui helped me, and why he was able to enter this horror story, I don't know, I don't know, but after I go out, I just want to thank him well.

I can remember that thanks to Wang Xinming and Lin Rui, they are constantly reminding me, making me gradually feel and realize this false memory.

"Is my son okay?" Wang Xinming asked.

"It's okay, Uncle Wang, Jianhui is fine."

Suddenly, the surrounding scenery changed, and Wang Xinming and I were standing on the street, those ghosts were motionless, looking at me with frightened eyes.

"Say, ...... you"

Suddenly, Wang Xinming took out a large brush from his arms, flipped his head in the air, held the brush with his right hand strongly, and wrote softly with his wrist, sliding in the air.

The faint ink, little by little, constituted two words, an illusion, and then the two words, slowly, somewhat transparently flew towards the sky, Wang Xinming waved the brush again, silently chanting something in his mouth, and then he shouted.

"Heavenly machine Xuanzhu, every word is beady, there are gods in words, ha......"

Wang Xinming shouted again, wrote down two words, hidden, and then the two words composed of ink, as if dissolved, scattered around, after a while, Wang Xinming put away the brush and sat on the ground calmly.

"Let those ghosts go, they can't go back for a while, and they won't know anything if you ask."

I sighed, and with one hand, I let go of the female ghost's head, and the ghosts screamed, scattered, and fled, and in a short time, they disappeared.

"Uncle Wang, what's going on here?"

Wang Xinming smiled faintly.

"Qingyuan, call me Uncle Ming, my spell, call ......"

"It's the art of words." I immediately smiled and said, Wang Xinming looked at me in surprise.

I walked over step by step and briefly told him about the strange old man, Wang Xinming instantly, the expression on his face, as if relieved, was completely relieved.

"Alas, I didn't expect it, Taigong, he is still alive, the words and spirit of our Wang family, I'm afraid that it will be lost, fortunately, the foolish things I did back then, at least, the Taigong will help me finish it, alas."

I sighed, looked at Wang Xinming suspiciously, and asked.

"Uncle Ming, the words you just wrote are so that they can't find out for the time being, I've already remembered it."

Wang Xinming nodded.

"Qingyuan, as soon as I realized that you came to this story, I immediately moved my hands and feet, and added me a little, in this story, this is also the only chance that we can connect, last time it was in a hurry, I can't tell you a lot of things, now, I can let you know, this horror story, and the relationship between dreams."

I immediately nodded and sat next to Wang Xinming.

Wang Xinming began to tell carefully about the so-called confused things he made back then.

As the eighth-generation descendant of the Yanling Wang family, Wang Mingming has practiced writing every day from his father since he was a child, and gradually began to master the art of Yanling, because the special feature of this technique is that he can put his power in words and realize some impossible things.

Since he was a child, Wang Xinming's father taught him not to use this spiritual technique to do bad things and seek benefits, however, because since he was a child, he wasted a lot of time practicing those things, so after his father's death, Wang Xinming has been very poor.

Fortunately, Wang Xinming married a good woman, although life was hard, but the two were very happy, Wang Xinming could only go to the construction site to move bricks to support the family, and his wife was working in the factory.

Life has been difficult, until Wang Jianhui was born, the days are even more tense, in desperation, Wang Xinming had to turn his back on his father's advice, feeling that his only skill is to write, he began to write.

At the beginning, Wang Xinming just wrote some short stories, fortunately he was able to mix some food, but Wang Xinming never wrote about some dead people or something, after all, he still knew that what he wrote was likely to become true because of the power of words.

But gradually, no one buys what Wang Xinming wrote, modern people prefer exciting things, and the best is to fight and kill.

Until Wang Jianhui went to elementary school, one time, in school, because of poverty, he was ridiculed by his classmates, and that time, Wang Jianhui cried home and told his father.

Wang Xinming, who couldn't bear it anymore, didn't care, and began to write about fighting and killing, everything was safe at first, however, Wang Xinming began to get involved in the supernatural.

The tragedy began at this moment, Wang Xinming wrote about the supernatural, in exchange for money, but someone died, the first person to die was Wang Xinming's wife, until this moment, Wang Xinming completely woke up, he angrily used the power of words and spirits to kill the ghost who killed his wife, however, these ghosts will not die.

Because these ghosts were created by Wang Xinming's pen, in desperation, Wang Xinming had to constantly tamper with the content written, and since then, he has completely closed the pen, although he has relied on it and got a lot of money.

And Wang Jianhui, since then he has no mother, for Wang Jianhui, Wang Xinming used the power of words and spirits to create a false home, and he didn't plan to teach Wang Jianhui something.

Hearing this, I couldn't help but sigh and pat Wang Xinming on the shoulder.

"At that time, I naively thought that nothing would happen again, however, because I had no complete control over the power of words, there were big loopholes in what I wrote, and tragedies happened one after another, and I didn't know how to revise it, or how to suppress it, so that I could stop what I had written."

It was at this time that the people of the Eternal Life Society approached Wang Xinming and gave him a proposal to transfer his story into a horror story and seal it, and in exchange, Wang Xinming had to help the people of the Eternal Life Society write that horror story.

Wang Xinming nodded and agreed, because he was afraid, the next one to die was Wang Jianhui, at first, everything was smooth, and there were no more ghosts created by His Majesty Wang Xinming, who ran out, and Wang Xinming also began to write horror stories for the Eternal Life Society, one after another.

Every time there is a horror story, the people of the Eternal Life Society will send it.

"At first, I didn't pay much attention to it, but as the horror story material sent to me became more and more real, I couldn't help but start investigating, and it was that investigation that made me a slave to them."

Through Wang Xinming's investigation, those horror stories were real, and he began to suspect the people of the Eternal Life Society, and at one point, he heard that someone had picked up a horror story and disappeared since then.

But when he asked about this matter again, no one remembered that Wang Xinming knew that things were broken, and he began to investigate all this, sorting out the materials, and preparing to send them to some sects, such as Naluo, Huangquan, and Fanyin's people.

All this was known to the Eternal Life Society, and then Wang Xinming was also dragged into a horror story, writing in a small room with impermeable walls all day long, like a machine, they threatened Wang Jianhui's net worth and life, so, as a father, he could only continue to write.

But over time, Wang Xinming can arbitrarily enter and exit the content of horror stories, and he gradually heard about some of my things, especially the things they plan to do to me, Wang Xinming felt that this was an opportunity, so he began to plan, however, all this gave the awareness of horror stories to discover.

As a result, Wang Xinming was imprisoned, and they also felt that if Wang Xinming was allowed to go down, Wang Xinming would control the horror story and must find a new writer, so they found Wang Jianhui, and because of this, I was involved in this incident.

When I heard this, I never understood why they came to me.

"Uncle Ming, why did they find me?"

I looked at Wang Xinming seriously, he sighed, and then looked at me with sharp eyes, pointing to my chest.

"Qingyuan, what's your instinct?"

"Coexistence......" I muttered to myself.

Wang Xinming nodded and continued.

"Because, this horror story was created by the ghost venerable named Ouyang Meng, so in any case, most of the content in it was created by dreams, so the people of the Eternal Life Society, in order to pursue the secret of eternal life, want to turn the content of the story into reality."

"What do you mean?"

"Qingyuan, what do you think of such a story?"

Wang Ming said, looking at me with a smile, and I sighed.

"For example, in the story, a certain male protagonist has obtained the power of immortality, which is very common in the story, right?"

I nodded, indeed, in many ways, there are such immortal characters.

Wang Xinming went on to say that the Eternal Life Society wants to compose such a story, make themselves the protagonists of such a story, and realize it through horror stories, but then transform it into reality, and they can achieve the goal of immortality.

Suddenly, I understood, clenched my fists, and was very angry in my heart.

"It's just that although I have written such stories, they have also found people to experiment, but the result is that it has failed, and in the story, the person who has attained eternal life will become ashes as soon as he turns into reality."

I chuckled in my heart and looked at Wang Xinming in a daze.

"So what does this have to do with me?"

"Because your instinct is coexistence, and in this world, all instincts are unique."