More than 10 years ago, I knew a friend who was a ghost storywriter like me, but unfortunately, my talent was not as good as his. This person and I are both from Yunnan, both from Dali, Yunnan, both in Xiaguan, both in the same apartment, and he and I are even neighbors.

His name is Qian Bingyang, and he works in a Xinhua bookstore.

Most people would think that Qian Bingyang was influenced by me, but in fact he was wrong, he was the first person to write a horror story, his rejection was a sack, and a newspaper once came all the way to interview him. At that time, I was unemployed in my hometown, so I began to emulate him and write horror stories.

Interestingly, Qian Bingyang, who writes horror stories, is very timid, he only dares to write during the day, and he goes to bed early in the bed at night. In the morning, he opens the window to let in plenty of sunlight, and then turns on the computer to type. His computer desk sits across a corner of the room, forming a triangle with two walls, and when he writes, his body shrinks into that triangle, leaning against both walls. His computer was placed low, that is, the whole house was in his eyes. As he typed, he looked around with an indescribable sense of joy.

Still, he specializes in horror stories.

That's the hobby.

People who often write horror stories will encounter related oddities sooner or later. Listen as I go on.

One day, Qian Bingyang had an extremely terrifying dream, the dream was very long, and in the end he was so frightened that he struggled to wake up, broke out in a cold sweat, and the quilt was soaked.

When he woke up, he turned on all the lights and kept his eyes open and didn't dare to sleep again. Until the world was revealed, he suddenly thought, isn't such a terrible dream a good material? The thought thrilled him. To this end, in the evening he invited some of his best literary friends to his house for a drink, and then he told them this wonderful story, and frightened them like chaff. After that, he made a special admonition: ban the spread of the word.

In this world, what "forbidden biography" can hide? No.

I've been running horror stories for a long time, but his dreams really give me chills.

He is not the protagonist of the events he dreamed of, he is only a spectator, or that everything in his flesh does not exist, that he cannot resist, that he cannot escape, that he only has a pair of eyes to watch. The good thing is that things don't seem to have anything to do with him - as long as you see it, how can things not be related to you?

What event?

In the middle of nowhere, there is a lonely hotel. It was raining heavily, and there was a thin passer-by hurrying with his head down, he was wearing a black raincoat and black rain boots, his face could not be seen clearly, and there were occasional thunders and lightnings, but only his mouth could be seen, and his mouth was very small.

He finally walked into the hotel in the middle of the storm.

Qian Bingyang's heart was beating wildly.

The hotel had a power outage and candles were lit. There was no one, and in the darkness, only a candle lit in a small window flickered and jumped.

When the man entered the door, he took off his raincoat and put it on his arm, his face was pale, and his mouth was indeed small.

Instead of shouting, the skinny passerby looked around. Finally a man came from the darkness at the end of the hallway, and at first she was just an image, vague, and the skinny passerby squinted and struggled to see. Her face was getting clearer and clearer, and just as she was about to see her, the candle suddenly went out, and the skinny passer-by was so frightened that he dropped his raincoat on the ground.

A voice said, "Don't be afraid, it's a troublemaker, I'll light a lamp for you right away, so that you can see me clearly." ”

The match jumped and lit, and the candle was lit, and Qian Bingyang took the opportunity to see the face clearly—it was a very old face. The hair on the top of his head was gone, and his teeth were missing. The candlelight reflected her cloudy eyes, and those dehydrated eyes looked numbly at the passerby's face. Skinny passers-by bow their heads, take money, get the keys, and look for a room.

Qian Bingyang's eyes fluttered and followed him into the simple and cramped room, and the skinny passer-by folded his raincoat, opened it, folded it again, and opened it again...... He's been doing this inexplicable thing, as if it's hard to satisfy himself every time he folds his raincoat.

There is an old table clock on the wall, and it strikes twelve times. It's midnight. As the legend goes, something terrible happens at midnight. The skinny passer-by stopped folding his raincoat, and he walked step by step to the shabby table of eight immortals, and pulled open the drawer hard, "squeak, squeak, squeak"

…… You must think that the most terrible thing has happened at this time, no, this man just saw a yellowed book, and looked at it, and it was written: One rainy night, a thin passer-by walked into a wilderness inn and stayed in a single room. This night lightning and thunder, the surroundings were pitch black, he was a little scared, he couldn't sleep, when the old clock on the wall struck twelve, he opened the drawer of the desk and saw a yellowed book! ……

Qian Bingyang's heart was about to jump out of his throat, and he felt like he was being choked by someone's throat.

The book goes on to say: One night, a passer-by with a wide chin walked into a hotel. There is not a single family in this place, it is very remote, only this hotel stands on the side of the road.

The wide-chin passer-by met a very old man in the registration room, her hair was about to fall out, and she had only a few teeth left, and she looked strange, took the customer's money, and gave him a key. Passers-by with wide chin accommodated in a single room. It was a very dark night, and he couldn't see his fingers, and he felt very gloomy, tossing and turning, and couldn't sleep. When the old clock on the wall struck twelve, he opened the drawer of his desk and saw a yellowed book! ……

It is written: There was a burly man who was on his way all night, and when it was getting dark, he saw a house in the wilderness, and it was an inn, and though it was very dilapidated, the burly man was tired of walking, and went in. When he entered the hotel, he was received by a warm woman, and she didn't look at his ID card, and gave him a key after taking a very cheap room. This burly man was very bold, but when he entered the room, he never felt that something was wrong, and he sat on the bed without lying down, and then the old clock on the wall struck twelve, and he suddenly looked at the drawer of the desk, and he somehow felt that something was wrong there, and he walked slowly, and pulled the drawer open, and saw a yellowed book......

Qian Bingyang's heart was about to jump out of his throat, and he felt like he was being choked by someone's throat.

The book goes on to read: One night, a passerby with a wide chin walked into a hotel. There is not a single family in this place, it is very remote, only this hotel stands on the side of the road. The wide-chin passer-by met a very old man in the registration room, her hair was about to fall out, and she had only a few teeth left, and she looked strange, took the customer's money, and gave him a key. Passers-by with wide chin accommodated in a single room. It was a very dark night, and he couldn't see his fingers, and he felt very gloomy, tossing and turning, and couldn't sleep. When the old clock on the wall struck twelve, he opened the drawer of his desk and saw a yellowed book! ……

It is written: There was a burly man who was on his way all night, and when it was getting dark, he saw a house in the wilderness, and it was an inn, and though it was very dilapidated, the burly man was tired of walking, and went in. When he entered the hotel, he was received by a warm woman, and she didn't look at his ID card, and gave him a key after taking a very cheap room. This burly man was very bold, but when he entered the room, he never felt that something was wrong, and he sat on the bed without lying down, and then the old clock on the wall struck twelve, and he suddenly looked at the drawer of the desk, and he somehow felt that something was wrong there, and he walked slowly, and pulled the drawer open, and saw a yellowed book......

What is written in the book? The book says: At 12 o'clock in the middle of the night, a terrifying voice will come from outside your door! ……

What kind of terrifying sound is it?

The burly man's hair stands on end! ……

Passers-by with wide chin were so frightened when they saw this that they got into the bed! The thin passer-by slammed the book shut when he read this, and looked around in horror!

Qian Bingyang almost screamed, he wanted to close his eyes and not look at the result, but he couldn't close it. He no longer knew what level of story he was entering. (To be honest, I'm a bit confused when I write this myself, and I've been trying to figure out the relationship between the layers of stories.) Occasionally, when I get lost in this layered story, I am terrified, afraid that I will not be able to get out. ）

The man I called the skinny passer-by didn't seem to be afraid, and he continued to read: the thin passer-by didn't seem to move for a long time, and he nervously opened the book again and read it: the wide-chin passer-by slowly stuck his head out of the bed after a long time, trying to run out of the mysterious hotel, but he didn't dare to open his door, he was afraid to see the strange old lady again, and he only had a minute and a second to stay up. The more he didn't read the book, the more frightened he became, and at last he picked it up again, and it read: The burly passer-by listened attentively, and sure enough, there was a sound of footsteps from far and near outside the door......

When the wide-chin passer-by saw this, he felt that this book was written for himself, and he turned blue with fright, and once again put his head under the covers! But he could not hide anything, and at last he heard a terrible sound of footsteps coming from far and near......

When thin people see this, they deeply understand that this text written in the book is a reminder to themselves, the book you read is written for you, and it will tell you everything that happens next! Sure enough, there was a terrifying sound of footsteps from far and near outside the door......

When the skinny passer-by in Qian Bingyang's dream saw this, he put a bookmark in the book, closed the book, and continued to fold the raincoat, over and over again, over and over again...... He waited for the voice to come. He was going to continue reading after hearing that horrible footsteps, because he wanted to know what was going to happen next, and whether he would get out of the black shop alive......

This story is very long, and Qian Bingyang dreamed all night. There are stories within stories, and there are stories within stories, one by one, and it's very laborious to tell, and I want to stop, and if I continue to tell it, I will reveal the secret.

Because I mainly want to write about Qian Bingyang, a real experience before his death. Later, Qian Bingyang walked into the situation of his dream and experienced unprecedented real horror.

Qian Bingyang asked a few friends who listened to his dream not to tell others about this dream, because he wanted to use this material to write the most terrifying bestseller.

I'm fantasizing, my illusions are shattering, my illusions always forgive my disillusionment, but I never let my illusions go.

Qian Bingyang has not started writing for a while, and for him, writing this book is a big project.

One day, he went to the countryside to collect wind. He often went to the countryside because he wanted to collect some folk horror stories, and according to his experience, the more remote the place where no outsiders set foot in the better stories, and he remembered a man who said that the best folk art was at least below the township cultural station. That's true.

The village he went to this time was called Qingshui Village, which was more than 100 miles away from the city. He went on a motorcycle.

After noon the next day, he returned to the city on his motorcycle. Walking and walking, his motorcycle stalled, he came down to fix it, it was a spark plug that had a problem, there was no backup, it was a very troublesome thing. Qian Bingyang's driving skills are great, but no matter how good he is, he can't ride a bunch of scrap metal up. He looked up and saw a barren meadow, with no homes nearby.

The journey home suddenly became long and endless.

The place was remote, and there were no passing cars on the dirt roads. He could only make a rough judgment that the boundaries of the land might be under the jurisdiction of County B, which is a well-known poverty-stricken county in the country.

The sun has sunk in the west, and the whole world is tired. A crow flew low by, it almost hit Qian Bingyang's shoulder, and screamed, like a hoodoo in a fairy tale.

Qian Bingyang had no choice but to push the motorcycle forward.

Walking and walking, it was getting dark, and he was a little scared. On both sides of the road, ugly elms were grown, crooked, and thorny, and they looked mysteriously at the person who walked in front of them, and the silence made people feel uncertain. His feet walked on the dirt road, "click, click, click, click......"

From this time on, Qian Bingyang, who wrote horror stories, began to experience the horror life. The more he walked, the more scared he became, and the motorcycle became heavier and heavier. He always felt a person sitting in the back seat of the motorcycle, and he vaguely felt that he was the one with a small mouth. Qian Bingyang kept looking back, and there was nothing on the back seat of the motorcycle. But that doesn't fool him. He quickened his pace. The faster he walked, the more he felt that the man was real. His face was blue with fright. Finally he was on the verge of breaking down, throwing the broken motorcycle in the grass on the side of the road and running alone.

At this time, he felt that someone was following him behind him, the man with a small mouth. He didn't dare to turn back, and ran all the way.

In the middle of the night, he saw a faint light in front of him, it was a house, just like the kind of roadside shops we are used to, lodging, eating, parking. Qian Bingyang immediately ran over.

Turning the corner, he found that the house was not on the side of the road, but half a mile away from the dirt road. Qian Bingyang got off the highway and ran to it along a dirt road.

Let me remind you that none of the above and the following stories are Qian Bingyang's dreams, but real situations.

It was a small building with a gray spire, very old, with high walls, and Qian Bingyang thought it was more like an abandoned village church. When he ran closer to it, he was sure that it was really a hotel. Its gate is hung with a wooden sign that reads: Hotel, in red paint.

Qian Bingyang pushed open the mottled door and staggered in. When you enter the door, you will see a narrow staircase with a sign that reads: The registration room is underground.

Ground floor?

Our horror story writers are a little scared because there's no light underground. He leaned against the wall and rested and determined. Finally he went down the stairs. The stairs were very short, that is, the basement was very low, and he was just able to stand up straight, and Qian Bingyang thought it was more like a tomb at the time.

A very small window, which is very depressing. He looked inside and saw a woman looking down on her sweater. She has a wide forehead. It's almost the middle of the night, and it's so remote that there won't be any customers at all, but she hasn't slept yet. Qian Bingyang felt as if she was waiting for him.

"Master, can you hire a truck around here? My motorcycle broke down halfway and I wanted to pull it over. ”

"In the wilderness, in the middle of the night, how can you hire a truck!" The woman looked extremely impatient. Qian Bingyang felt that her forehead occupied almost half of her face.

"Then I'll stay."

The other party opened the window a crack, threw out a registration book, and continued to knit the sweater.

The contents of the registration book are a little strange: name, gender, age, marital status, blood type, medical history, hobbies, where they came from and where they are going.

Qian Bingyang said embarrassedly: "I don't know my blood type......"

The woman didn't look up and said, "You know what to fill in." ”

Qian Bingyang filled it out, handed over the money, and asked, "You don't want an ID card?" ”

The woman ignored it and threw out a key: "Room 200." ”

Qian Bingyang asked in surprise: "How come there are 200 rooms?" ”

The woman slapped her sweater and said, "Why are you talking so much nonsense!" ”

He paused and asked tentatively, "Do you deposit cash for you?" ”

The woman said, "There are no travelers tonight, just you, and no one steals you." ”

He thought about it, didn't know what to say, so he took the key, left the basement, and went upstairs.

Walking to the first floor, he hesitated to leave this strange ghost place, only to find that there was a faint sound of thunder outside, so he had to give up. What could it be, he thought!

He went up to the second floor, and sure enough, there were 200 rooms. He opened the door and went in, and found that the room was dimly lit, with only a bed, a writing desk, and a chair. Not even a TV. There was a tall sliding door on the wall next to the door, which must have been a wardrobe.

He locked the door, changed his slippers, and lay down on the bed.

It was getting dark very quickly, and I couldn't see my fingers. The thunder flickered far and near.

Qian Bingyang suddenly remembered the woman's words: "There are no travelers tonight, only you ...... alone"

He was a little scared and a little incomprehensible - since there was no one, why did he let himself live on the second floor? The first floor is empty, and the third floor is also empty.

The male writer immediately felt that this was an extremely unfavorable floor.

He wanted to go down to a room on the first or third floor, but he gave up the idea as soon as he wanted to walk through the dark corridors and stairs, to enter the crypt-like basement, to meet the strange woman.

He just wants to mix until dawn and leave quickly.

There were already raindrops falling on the windows, and it was loud. This night, Qian Bingyang will spend time with the woman with the big forehead in this deserted store......

Qian Bingyang couldn't sleep, took out his notebook, and sat in front of the desk to sort out what he saw in the countryside. After writing a few lines, he was really in no mood to write any more, so he put the pen away.

He felt that there were eyes lurking everywhere in this empty room. He glanced at the drawer of the desk occasionally, and his heart shook violently. He remembered the dream he had had.

That drawer was tightly closed.

There is a clock hanging on the wall, walking slowly, not fast, not slow, precise, calm.

Qian Bingyang sat on the bed with his back against the corner of the room, just like the posture he did when he typed at home. His eyes were fixed on the drawer, not blinking. There was only one voice in his ears, and it was the sound of the bell, "tick, tick, tick."

It's still some time until 12 o'clock in the middle of the night. But Qian Bingyang really couldn't stand the torment, he got out of bed and walked to the drawer step by step.

He wished he could open it and see a fancy latest edition of the magazine, preferably the one edited by his friend Zhou Dedong, so that he would be much more relaxed.

But what he saw was a book, a yellowed book!

Frightened, he quickly closed the drawer.

However, when he closed the drawer, he was even more afraid. He opened the drawer again, and shuddered as he pulled out the book: it was a very old book, which had been flipped through by many people, and the pages were curled up.

He thought, maybe he was too suspicious, maybe it was the shopkeeper's compensation for the lack of a TV.

As soon as he looked at the title of the book, he had a cold war: "Deserted Shop".

He flipped through it and found that it was a book with no author's name, no publisher, and no book number. The first page reads: There was a man who walked into a deserted shop in the wilderness. The inn is three storeys old and there is not a single house around. He lived in 200 rooms......

The rain was pouring down, and the dark world was drowned in the sound of water. Qian Bingyang felt that he had really fallen into the strange dream he had had, or that dream covered him as tightly as the night. There is only one way for him to read on and see what his fate will be.

The book goes on to say: He was bored, and when he opened the drawer idly, he saw the book, and he read it with trepidation.

It's really me who wrote it! He walked into the book involuntarily. It was a completely foreign world, and he felt helpless.

The book also wrote: Time passed little by little, and midnight came, and it was very silent. Suddenly, there was the sound of a man's footsteps in the stairs! The footsteps were very slow, walk, stop, walk, stop, I don't know if it came from upstairs or from downstairs......

Qian Bingyang slammed the book shut, not daring to read it any further. He looked at the watch on his wrist, and it was 12 midnight in a quarter of an hour!

He waited for that moment as if he were waiting for death.

His mind went blank. He was tormented by extreme terror for a long, long time, and no footsteps were heard. He calmed down and thought to himself, a book is a book, and he was too suspicious. Maybe the owner is joking......

He looked at his watch again, and it was not yet 12 o'clock. It turned out that time passed too slowly.

When the watch hand pointed to 12 o'clock, there was a literal sound of footsteps in the stairs! It's slow, walk, stop.

Qian Bingyang's hair stood firm.

He listened blankly to the footsteps, unable to tell if it was coming down the stairs or coming up from the downstairs. The voice walked slowly towards his room, and gradually moved away, and after a while, slowly walked back again......

Qian Bingyang didn't know whether he was frightened or angry, he wanted to shout, but finally didn't shout.

He picked up the book, gently returned to the bed, and clung to the corners of the quilt, shaking into a ball.

What will be the result of this footsteps?

He opened the book again as if he were peeking into the book of judgment.

The book reads: After about half an hour, the strange footsteps disappeared. But at this time, the sound of singing and erhu came from the stairs......

Sure enough, the sound of singing and erhu sounded. Who's singing on this rainy night?

Qian Bingyang's face was already frightened. He wanted to jump downstairs and escape, but when he came to the window, he heard the sound of singing downstairs. It's the most traditional tune.

It is the Peony Pavilion of Kunqu Opera, but in the current environment, the sound of singing makes people feel cold - dreams turn back, chaotic years are all over, and people stand in small courtyards and deep courtyards. Inject all the smoke, throw away the residual embroidery thread, and this spring is like last year? The sunny silk blows to the idle courtyard, and the spring is like a line. Stopped for a long time, didn't steal half of the flowers, and the colorful clouds were off. How can I show my whole body in the boudoir......

He stepped back into bed, and the voice came in through the door again.

He gritted his teeth and opened the book, which went on to say: The sound of singing gradually stopped. By this time, the traveler was already frightened crazy. He had a premonition that he was not far from death. He kicked the bathroom like crazy, and there was nothing; He frantically opened the closet door by the door, and it was very dark inside, and he saw a man standing tall in it, it was the woman in the registration room! Her face was pale and bloodied, and she fell straight down, grabbing the traveler with her hands......

Qian Bingyang didn't go crazy. He gently opened the bathroom door, which was empty; He turned to face the closed closet door but didn't dare to reach out.

He brought in a chair, the only thing in the room that could be used as a weapon, and stood in front of the closet, but still did not dare to open the door.

He went back to bed, cowered in a corner, and stared at the closet door. It was a door that was about to kill him.

His only essence here is that there is a lamp in this room. He never dared to turn off the lights. If there were no lights, he might have collapsed.

At this time, the lights suddenly went out.

The sound of rain outside the window suddenly became louder.

Qian Bingyang suddenly covered the quilt, quickly stuck his head out, and opened a pair of eyes wide, staring at the door of the wardrobe in the dark.

He recalled the words of his good friend Li Qiunan: There is nothing terrible in this world, the only thing that can make you afraid is only your own heart.

Qian Bingyang relied on recalling my words to strengthen his courage.

However, he still lost trust in it. Because after a long time, there was another knocking sound in that closet, very soft. Knock it every once in a while.

Qian Bingyang shuddered.

The knocking in the closet is getting louder and louder!

Finally, a woman's voice came from inside!

Her voice was low and she spoke slowly: "I...... Good...... Cold...... Ah......h

Qian Bingyang trembled like chaff and was about to collapse.

After a while, the voice rang out again: "I...... Good...... Cold...... Ah......h

Qian Bingyang was already paralyzed at this time, and he couldn't move even if he wanted to.

The voice grew lower and lower: "I...... Good...... Cold...... Ah......h

Then there was a sudden silence.

There were still 108,000 miles to go, and time stopped at this point. The sound didn't stop there, it went on and on—and after a while, the door to the closet creaked open, opened very slowly, pulled and stopped.

Qian Bingyang watched a figure slowly walk out.

With a flash of lightning, Qian Bingyang saw that she was the woman in the registration room whose forehead occupied half of her face! She wore a bright blue robe and had a blank face.

She stood in front of Qian Bingyang's bed and said tremblingly, "You...... Target...... Surname...... Name...... You...... Target...... Year...... Age...... You...... Target...... Blood...... ......" The voice was fluttering and textureless.

Qian Bingyang screamed miserably and was scared to death on the spot.

The woman slowly took off her robe, lowered her head as if to say to herself, "Dead......"

After a while, the dim yellow light came on, and then the door creaked open, and in came a woman who looked exactly like her, and her forehead took up half of her face. She seemed to be carrying a tape recorder or something odd.

They rummaged through Qian Bingyang's bag in the dim light, as if looking for his ghost. The light shone on their faces, pale and terrifying. Qian Bingyang's thin corpse lay straight on the bed. The two women seemed to be performing a weird pantomime, and Qian Bingyang's corpse was their prop.

Poor Qian Bingyang's bag only has a few small tickets enough to buy a long-distance ticket. Two women with large foreheads lifted Qian Bingyang up, went down the dark staircase to the basement, and threw him into an unfathomable hole. Then one wrote in a notebook: the 3rd. Name: Bingyang Qian. Gender: Male. Age: 29 years old. Blood Type: (empty). Married: None. Hobbies: Reading. Where did it come from: Yin Cao. Where to go: Yin Cao.

After doing all this, it was already two o'clock in the morning, and one of the women with big foreheads disappeared nowhere, and the other woman with big foreheads was sitting upright in the registration room.

The two twin sisters' crime was inspired by their cousin, who was one of several friends who listened to Qian Bingyang's dream.