Alive? Will it move? Isn't it really a hallucination?

Zhu Beichen couldn't believe his feelings, on the top of the uninhabited mountain, such a ghost claw suddenly appeared in the middle of the night. The problem is that the owner of the claw is still hiding in the fog, and he can't see it at all.

He also thought that everything was a dream, but this dream was too real, and a thick fragrance wafted from the direction of the ghost claw, and he couldn't tell what it was, but he felt dizzy in his head.

The ghost hand in the dense fog with a temperature as low as freezing was withdrawn and moved slipperily from under Zhu Beichen's palm.

Ran away? That's it? Zhu Beichen was stunned, and before he came to his senses, that thing just ran away for me, and he didn't say a word?

In less than half a second, there was a chill on the back of Zhu Beichen's hand that fell on the hilt of the knife, and his face turned blue with fright.

The cold claws grabbed Zhu Beichen's hand, and his undulating heart immediately felt a burst of nausea, and he was about to pull back the palm that was held by the other party. How did you know that the strength of the ghost claw was so great, and he didn't pull it back for a long time, and the other party didn't make the next move.

He was in a hurry, God knows what he wanted to do with the things that came out of the middle of the night, and he couldn't get the scimitar, and he was restrained by someone else.

In a flash of light, he remembered, didn't he still have a gun, Han Qingxin gave him a small pistol before he went out.

Under the critical situation, Zhu Beichen suddenly calmly took out the mini version of the pitch-black pistol from the pocket of his coat with his free left hand, aimed the muzzle of the black hole at the thick fog, and judged the possible location of the owner of the ghost claw according to the position of the ghost claw.

"You should let go of Lao Tzu quickly, if you don't let go, I will shoot you down." He tugged at his right arm, threatening the would-be owner of the Ghost Claw with a fierce expression.

The ghost claw still shook Zhu Beichen's right hand coldly, ignoring his intimidation, but pinched it even tighter. He could even clearly feel the back of his hand being pinched out of five finger marks, and the real pain stimulated his nerves at this moment.

I don't care if you're a human or a ghost, he wants to hold the gun in his left hand and pull the trigger.

Click, click!

The hard and firm trigger could not be pulled, and there was no expected huge recoil from the bullet chamber, and the muzzle did not ignite a single spark.

He was stunned, parallel goods! Toy guns? But the weight of the gun, the weight of the metal, that's all real! Could it be that the mad girl is fooling me too?

Zhu Beichen was in a hurry, and the cold sweat on his forehead was dripping.

It's a safety bolt, it seems that the insurance hasn't been opened!

He hadn't touched a real gun, but he had seen some basic knowledge of firearms, but when he was nervous, he forgot to have insurance, and Han Qingxin hadn't taught him how to use a gun before.

He fumbled with his memory, first opened the hammer safety, then pulled the trigger, and calculated the position of the man's head behind the fog, and the recoil shifted the angle. He can't care about so much, at the moment of life and death, that thing may be finished if it doesn't die.

Boom!

The recoil of the miniature pistol is not great, the sound of the bullet being ejected is muffled, the fire flashes in the front hole, and the sound of bullets hitting hard objects can be heard behind the fog.

The ghost claw quickly let go of Zhu Beichen's arm, and as soon as the force suppressed by his right hand was removed, Zhu Beichen quickly withdrew his arm.

Behind the clouds, there was no movement.

Did you just run away? There was no sound at all, Zhu Beichen was a little annoyed, and hurriedly picked up the scimitar on the ground, the heavy weight of the blade gave him a sense of steadiness.

He took advantage of the situation and slashed at the three-foot-long scimitar at the surrounding fog.

Whoa, whoa!

The sound of the cold sword peak cutting through the clouds and mist resounded, and every time the knife was chopped, it was like a mud cow entering the sea, without the slightest hindrance, until under the weakness, the heavy breath completely dispelled the fear in the heart. He was holding the bumpy ground with a scimitar, his mini-pistol tightly in his left hand.

It was as if a quarter of an hour ago, nothing had appeared in the fog, and there was no living creature around the ground where the scimitar had rested.

……

In a moment, the thick clouds and mist in front of me dispersed, the vision suddenly opened up, and the surrounding scenery suddenly became clear!

The surrounding environment changes instantly, and Zhu Beichen is no longer on the top of Wushan.

What's going on here, I'm hallucinating? A second ago, it was on the top of a mountain, but where is it?

After the fog cleared, there was a clear view in front of you, with green mountains and green waters, and smoke rising from the village buildings in the mountains.

Zhu Beichen thought about it for a while, everything here was so familiar, and the environment here brought him a very warm feeling, which he recognized.

This is the village where he grew up, and the mountains behind him used to be used to chop wood and cut wood.

In a familiar tiled house, a little boy shirtless and wearing dirty shorts erects a boiler out of a pile of stones in front of his house, and the red-hot wood heats the food in the boiler.

Zhu Beichen recognized the little boy, and saw the iron pot stained with ash on the outer wall boiling with heat, the thin rice soup churning in the furnace, and the barely visible rice grains occasionally appeared on the water.

The greenery that was boiled to perfection was the wild vegetable root cut from the mountains, and Zhu Beichen didn't need to taste it to know that the pot of rice soup must be light in the mouth, and there should be a little bitterness of wild vegetable juice in the light taste.

The little boy was a small man, with an iron pot almost as high as his chest, and he carried a spoon the size of his head, and stood on tiptoe to scoop the rice soup into the iron pot.

Zhu Beichen's eyes were soaked with tears, children! That pot of rice soup actually doesn't need to be scooped, there are not a few grains of rice in it, there are not a few wild vegetables, and it won't paste the bottom of the pot.

This is the real self back then, this is the poor self back then, and this is the Zhu Beichen who couldn't even afford a bowl of thick rice porridge back then.

The retrospective scenes of past life can't help but make the immersive self full of sadness, even if you drink a full half pot of rice soup, you will still be awakened by a strong hunger at night.

What about the tiled house behind the little boy?

Zhu Beichen didn't have to think about it to know that there was an old man who was not very mentally normal, and he was his grandfather.

Sure enough, the dilapidated wooden door of the tiled house slowly opened, and a familiar rickety figure appeared in front of the tiled house. He couldn't remember what day it was, because there were so many of the same images. Grandpa should be normal today, right?

Just like the countless days that Ba Wang has passed, Zhu Beichen hopes that his grandfather will always be clear-headed, and his grandfather will tell stories to himself and amuse himself.

The old man pretended to be naughty, quietly approached behind the little boy who was concentrating on cooking, and Zhu Beichen, who was watching this scene, smiled knowingly.

Because, these are the things he experienced countless times in his early years, and this is his life!