The sudden candlelight was very faint, barely much weaker than the light of the lighter in my hand.

From my position, the candle was mottled and gently shaking, which looked very strange.

The old mansion where I have lived for more than ten years suddenly collapsed into an underground space, and in the underground space, there are candles. This sensory and visual impact made me stay in place for a while, unable to move.

After a short pause, I decided to move on. Over the years, I have seen so many things and things that are far beyond the norm. Although at that moment, my heart resisted slightly, but my body still walked honestly towards the ghostly light.

I moved slowly, wary of the changes around me.

When I was still about a meter away from the entrance of the candlelight cave, the already faint candlelight suddenly went out at that moment! It went out so suddenly, and it felt like a ship sailing towards a lighthouse in the middle of the sea, and suddenly there was no guidance from the lighthouse.

My world was suddenly dark again, darkness in the full sense of the word!

As soon as I wanted to open the lighter in my hand, I felt a noise in front of me, and before I could reach out to touch it, my eyes lit up. It was exactly the same as the faint light of the candle that had just been extinguished, and as the candle flame lit up, I saw a man standing in front of me! An old man in ancient costume, holding a candle in his hand, was smiling at me!

The sunlight outside the window hit the fire kang inside the house, and I couldn't open my eyes in a daze. The clothes I wore were sticky, and it was obvious that the dream just now not only made me nervous psychologically, but also greatly affected physically.

The old man who appeared in the dream woke me up instantly, and after waking up, I realized that all the real experiences just now were actually a dream.

I looked around me, and everything in the room hadn't changed at all since I had fallen asleep.

This strange dream was more real than the real one, so real that I could clearly remember every detail, and I could feel every feeling clearly. Even the various tactile senses are still fresh in my memory.

The chirping of cicadas from the fruit trees outside the window broke my thoughts, and I immediately got up and washed my face with the freshly plucked water from the well in the kitchen jar, trying to clear my mind.

I took some dry food from my backpack and took a bite of breakfast with cold boiling water, and then took out a dry piece of clothing from the cabinet and changed it into. Although I haven't moved for more than two years, it's better than being soaked in sweat and feeling cold.

The early morning sun has made the coolness of early autumn in the north much lighter, and even the somewhat deserted house has become warmer.

Pushing the door open, I took a deep breath and immediately felt refreshed. The air here is as fresh and clean as I was when I was a child, without a trace of impurities, and even when you taste it, there is some sweet taste. Just like the character of the simple peasants who have lived here for generations. Although young people have some different ideas, and do not want to continue to live a miserable life like their fathers, with the sun rising and resting, facing the loess and turning their backs to the sky, I think that no matter how rich and different their status is in the future. Such a place will definitely be the most unforgettable "paradise" place in their dreams.

Standing in the courtyard, looking at the familiar courtyard in front of me, there was an illusion of time and space overlapping for a moment. It's as if everything in front of you has happened.

The "little black house" in the southeast corner of the courtyard is still as it is remembered, although it has experienced wind and rain, it is still the same.

Before I knew it, my footsteps were moving towards the location of the small black room.

Now that I think about it, it seems that my actions are being pulled by some kind of force, because my subjective consciousness is not trying to get close to the position that I have a little rejection of, that I have a bad memory.

Perhaps this mysterious force is the soul of my father guiding my consciousness.

The iron door of the iron house was wrapped in thick chains, and at the bottom of the chains was a large iron cable. Because there is no shade, after several years of wind and sun, it has become rusty.

The key to the iron rope has long been discarded by me in the small river not far from the mountain village, and now I don't know that it is sinking somewhere in the mud at the bottom of the river to make its spring and autumn dreams.

The reason why the key was discarded after locking the iron door of the small black room. It was because I wanted to completely break away from this little dark house, or I wanted to make a break with the unpleasant childhood experiences of the past.

At that moment, I still had a grudge against my father for locking me in a small dark room. Even after my father's death, my resentment was much less, but my emotions were still the same.

This change of mood accompanied me for two years, and it was not until I saw my father's body again in the mysterious Zhao Tuo's underground palace and a series of analyses that this kind of mustard for my father completely subsided.

A crisp sound came to my ears, the sound of iron chains falling to the red brick floor.

The chain in front of me fell off on its own under my touch, but the lock on it was intact and fell to the ground along with the thick chain. The crisp sound was the sound of the chain colliding with the lock.

I didn't even need a key, and the lock that I regarded as a cut off from the past was easily broken.

At that moment, I felt that this was the providence in the dark.

But when I glanced at the broken chains on the ground, I realized how this providence came about.

There were obvious traces of polishing where the chains were broken on the red brick floor, and it was clear that someone had deliberately broken the chains before I returned to the old house.

At that moment, countless thoughts flashed through my mind. This is also the first time I feel that the little dark room in front of me, which once disgusted me, has become mysterious.

Who has been here in the two years since I left? And for what purpose are you interested in such an iron house that looks ordinary on the surface and is used by farmers to put farm tools!

The first thing that came to my mind was the second uncle, the man who became more and more mysterious in my impression.

Every time my second uncle came, I would be locked up in this little dark room by my father; And my father's suicide was also chosen in this small dark house that has locked me up for more than ten years; In this little dark room, I have dreamed countless times of my mother, who died when I was very young; That dream from last night was so real; the underground space that appears in the dream;

Is all this just a coincidence?

"Crunch Squeak......"

As I pushed the door, the familiar voice from my childhood reappeared in my mind. It's just that, in my memory, this voice was very urgent, because at that time, I had always rebelled against my father's unjustified behavior. But as I grew older and my strength grew, I found that I still had no power to resist my father's drag. It was as if as my strength grew, so did his strength.

At the time, I didn't pay much attention to this feeling, and now that I think about it, these are not normal.

I have felt the strength of the fat man, and compared with my father, the strength of the fat man to me does not seem to be as great as the strength of my father when he dragged me into the little black room.

Thinking of this, my father's serious face resurfaced in my mind.

He hardly changes his clothes, and has always dressed up as an ordinary peasant dress. The neighbors who live here have always used the words of honest farmers to describe their father.

This is my impression of my father when I was a child.

But now after a series of different points appeared, I felt that my father was not an ordinary farmer at all.

For a while, I suddenly didn't know the father I had always thought I was familiar with, and even classified him as the mysterious second uncle.

The darkness of the little black room is still my impression, in the past years, only the candle in the candlestick in the corner accompanied me, but now the candlestick is still there, but the candle is long gone. It's as if the courtyard is still there, but the people are gone.

At the corner where the north wall meets the east wall of the small black room is the location of the father's suicide.

At that time, my father's headless body was lying at the intersection of two walls perpendicular, and the head was pressed under his lying body. Some of his carefully prepared collars with sharp blades were fastened to the corners.

Now these rings are still there, but my father's body is in that underground palace, burning in the flames.

Many times in the years I have dreamed of this little dark room, to be exact, of a little black room with my father's corpse.

Every time I wake up from my dreams, I have thought more than once about what it will be like when I return to this little dark room again.

I think there should be a fear of emotion, and even this emotion will take up a large share of all my emotions. Because, before my father had ended his life in such a horrific suicide by separating his head and body, I was also very afraid of his majesty. What's more, he passed away in such a way.

But when I entered this little dark room again, the fear I had thought was not at all.

Everything in the little dark room was exactly the same as the last time I saw it, and the man who broke the chains did not touch anything after entering the iron room, as if he were observing the place where his father committed suicide. After watching, I left. After leaving, the chain chain should be placed in a way that no one has touched, probably because people don't want to find out that someone has been here.

In the corner where the props used by my father to commit suicide are placed the tools that my father used in his farm work, such as hoes, pickaxes, and targets......

The underground space in my dream was where it was before the tools were placed, all the way to the back of the wall of the small dark room.

As I unconsciously moved towards the position of the farm tool while thinking about the dream I had had last night, I suddenly noticed something that made my heart beat faster.