Some are like withdrawal symptoms.

Su Jing pushed open the door of the library.

He was inexplicably anxious, although his patience had always been bad, and he was always chasing something new and interesting, but he knew that this time his anxiety was due to something else.

In the period after Su Luo's death in reality, her whole body collapsed. At that time, it was a few weeks after the end of the college entrance examination that year, and suddenly I lost the soul couple that I had been with for the previous eighteen years, and it was like a large piece of the whole person being hollowed out.

It's like a bird with its wings broken, or a normal person who loses his sight. Su Jing had been a psychic person for the previous eighteen years, and had a close spiritual connection with the other closest person, and there was never a day when he was alive as a "single ordinary person", and when this connection was suddenly broken, he experienced the feeling of an ordinary person for the first time in his life, lonely, lonely, and the other end of the connection was empty...... He fell into a great panic and mania.

During those two months, he spent all day wandering, drinking, drugs, hanging out with everyone he knew, trying all kinds of dangerous and crazy stupid actions, hoping to fill the emptiness in his heart with great mental stimulation. And in retrospect, it was nothing more than a primitive animal stress response.

For the first time in 18 years of life, I tried to live independently, and began to learn to endure loneliness, a terminal illness that all human beings suffer. Without the other half who will always support her, Su Jing must relearn to live as a "person".

He felt very hopeless and miserable.

And just after he finally learned to be independent, he reunited with his other half after a series of adventures. The connection was re-established. Those tacit understandings and cooperation that he thought he had deliberately forgotten, the feeling of "no longer lonely"...... It's like never leaving.

And now. Su Luo and he were only separated for a short while, and he began to feel uneasy. It's like a withdrawal reaction, and he can't help but be afraid that the stories of the previous reunions are just hallucinations created for himself by his crazy mind. Maybe when I wake up, I am still just lying on the bed in the university dormitory, and every qiē is just a long dream, and all the qiē is just shaped by my own thoughts...... Dream.

If it was possible, he really wished he would have turned around and chased after Su Luo now. A-Lo, A-Lo, my dear A-Luo. Half of my body, the fire beating in my heart, the warm and beautiful flame, the cruelest hell this devil can create is to take you back from my hands. If it's really the same as I thought, shaped by me and the little Viper, you, and maybe Sadako and Kiki, the dark hearts of the five of us, then they're going to find my weakness.

The library was empty and dusty. There doesn't seem to be a clue at all. Su Jing walked through the shelves, following the alphabet in columns to find the books she was searching for.

"Ah, I found it."

Wilde's Fairy Tales. A children's picture book, referring to the library of an elementary school. It's also quite natural that Su Jing never expected to find a tome like the complete works of Shakespeare here. The shelves are filled with picture books, encyclopedias, and dictionaries...... It's full of health books for school-age children. This version of Wilde's fairy tale Su Jing has never been seen before, and it looks like it was printed by a small publishing house. The bibliography does not indicate the publisher or the number of prints. It's a bit like a printed booklet.

Interestingly, there are some illustrations in it.

"Happy Prince...... Happy Prince ......"

Su Jing quickly turned the page. He noticed that there were crooked annotations written by children in pencil on the pages. And...... It is in Chinese.

"I thought I was the only one who would be self-righteous and write annotations on the pages of books when I was reading them." Su Jing raised his eyebrows, and the pencil handwriting on the page was large and open, and it was easy to see what kind of character the writer was. He had practiced calligraphy for a while, had carefully watched many people write, and had a little bit of experience in judging the character of a writer from his handwriting. Although children write badly, they can still judge some signs from the way they write with a pen and the focus of their strokes.

"The skimming extends so long...... Su Jing touched the page slightly with his fingers, and felt the pen power of the handwriting from the reverse side, "And the writing is very hard, it looks like there is a little tyrant here." ”

However, there is a slight degree of law in the beginning and end of the pen, and it is not blindly publicized. Zang Feng appeared in his bones, and Su Jing recalled the calligraphy method that still existed in his mind. Even if he has a flamboyant and violent personality, this kid who writes and draws on books in the public library still knows how to be restrained.

He flipped to the chapter of "The Happy Prince" and took an interesting look at what the man had written.

In the passage where the Happy Prince asks the Swallow to give all the gems and gold leaves on his body to the poor, the annotation is:

[Why does it take the sacrifice of the Happy Prince to eliminate the suffering of these people?] 】

"Because Wilde arranged this sculpture prince in the story, just to satirize society, little fool. In this story, it is not the city councillor or the rich who comes to the rescue, but a non-moving sculpture with a heart made of lead, which is the irony of this story. ”

Su Jing took out a pen and wrote down his opinions. If there are still children who will open this book, I hope they will not go down the wrong path because of the comments of their predecessors.

He wrote this passage under the children's annotations. After a few seconds, the pencil handwriting disappeared along with his marker handwriting, and then, a new childish pencil handwriting surfaced on the page:

[Doesn't the Happy Prince feel pain?] 】

Su Jing raised the collection of fairy tales in his hand and found the clue to enter the next step.

As expected, I just wrote a stroke on this story book and started the next step of the game. Obviously, the other party is trying to drag himself into the illusion, and it is obvious that as long as he is equally "willing" to enter the world of intrigue with "it", then almost all clues can be "established".

It's like in the original Silent Hill game, where the protagonists run around in a deserted town, just to find a key and open a trap. Find a key to open the chest, just to get another key. Keys, keys, keys, and clueless messy props hide clues to the next step, a whole chaotic labyrinth, but the protagonist always breaks through the fog and goes to the final destination in the end.

Because this world is the world of the mind.

The process of constantly searching for the key is the process of constantly going deep into one's own heart. Venturing around this town is actually a "ritual", akin to the embodiment of "meditation". Peel away the layers of fog in your own heart, until you finally face your own heart. And as long as you are willing to face it, then this process is a matter of course, and any move can be regarded as the key to open the next door.

I'm ready, come on.

"Of course it hurts. Having lost his strength, he lost his eyes, and the gold flakes on his body were stripped of him, and of course he felt pain. Su Jing sat behind the counter in the reading room and began to communicate with the demon hidden under the pages, "But he can see many unfortunate tragedies, and these tragedies make him feel spiritual pain when he is powerless. Instead of mental pain, he chose to exchange his physical pain for it. ”

After these words were written, new handwriting soon appeared on the fairy tale books.

Why can't he close his eyes? At the end of the day, he didn't change anything. The poor are still poor, and after spending all the treasures of the Happy Prince, the poor are still poor, and nothing has changed. 】

"First of all, he's a sculpture and can't close his eyes. Second, what has changed is ......"

Su Jing wrote a few words and raised his head with frowns. A very familiar voice came from afar, a mixture of beautiful feminine voices and heavy footsteps, with a great sense of foreboding.

"You're kidding me......"

Su Jing temporarily put the album into his coat pocket and took off the shotgun on his back, while his brain was spinning rapidly. Why did this werewolf appear halfway through writing? Is this some kind of psychological symbol of defense? Still is......

"Damn." Su Jing realized that her body was full of the strong smell of potato chips.

Ten seconds later, the door to the school library was pushed, but the door was blocked by a wooden bar from the inside. After a few pushes, a werewolf's giant claw tore open the door to the library.

The huge gray-black body slammed straight in, as tall as a nightmare, and the bulging muscles contained absolute violence, and it only took a glance to know that the power of the shotgun was completely insufficient to destroy the protection of its flesh and skin. Its female body, which was chained around its abdomen, had no limbs, and was almost entirely buried in the werewolf's massive body. As a whole, it is like the embodiment of violence and desire, a perfect postmodern biological work of art.

It sniffed frantically at the air, and the smell of fried junk food was clearly audible. The huge body crawled through the bookshelves, slapping through the small library piled high with children's picture books, tearing open the counter where the books were borrowed, and stationery and bills were scattered all over the floor.

It knew that the target had been sitting here a minute before.

He didn't run away.

The werewolf roared, and the lower body of the female body twitched for a while. The sharp claws cut four bloody streaks on the white, slender back, as if to vent anger. It followed the scent and rushed to the back of the library, where there was a back door that led to the stairwell.

The smell spread downstairs, and it suddenly exerted its strength, and its claws tore off large chunks of mortar and masonry on the walls of the stairwell, jumping three times, and it only took a second to reach the basement. But there is only one coat here.

A coat that smells of fried food, and a bag that has been eaten in its pocket. (To be continued......)