"Quick, quick, over that skinny guy!" a well-dressed young man, banging on the fence of the stands as he felt like he was about to rush out.

"Rush forward, come on, come on!" the slightly bowed middle-aged man clutched his hat and waved it, not noticing the few hairs that had been picked up by the wind.

"Oh my God, No. 3 is ahead!" the red-haired lady shouted in frustration as she sat back in her seat.

"It's over, I've put all my money on the 7th!" said the father who was holding the child fiercely, and the woman next to him who seemed to be his wife seemed to be complaining about something.

"It's not over yet, one by one shouting and yelling, No. 7 is a thoroughbred, how can he lose to something with an unknown identity. It was an old man who looked experienced, and he didn't stand up like everyone else, but sat firmly in the audience to watch the game, but the ticket in his hand had been crumpled by him.

There was a lot of noise in the stands, all eyes were on the green track, and I was huddled in the crowd, not knowing what to say.

I have the impression that I was obviously looking through the information in the Tianbei groceries, and the old man gave me information about the Eight Horses made me a little concerned, how could I suddenly appear on a racecourse? Could it be some monster trickster?

Ask the people around me, I think so in my heart, but there seems to be no one who is interested in taking care of me, too, everyone is anxiously waiting for the results of the horse race, it is estimated that many people have bought horse racing tickets, and it seems that many people have also made a lot of money.

Forget it, let's wait until the game is over and ask someone what's going on.

Horses No. 3 and No. 7 seem to be the two most popular racehorses, No. 7's black fur is shiny and reflective, and the crimson saddle looks like it has been carefully made by craftsmen, and its muscles bulge one by one when it runs, and its slender limbs are light and powerful.

What a glorious horse, I muttered to myself, but shut my mouth, for I was a poor boy who knew nothing about horse racing.

As for Horse No. 3, I guess it's the skinny guy in people's mouths, the fur is dull and mute-brown, the mane is sparse and scattered on both sides of the neck that is not straight, and the running looks like it's like digging the ground with its front hooves, not chic at all.

But such a stumbling horse was about to overtake the beautiful No. 7 horse, the thoroughbred horse that everyone was generally optimistic about, which made everyone here restless.

A few seconds later, the horses crossed the finish line under the watchful eyes of the crowd, and there was a shout of helplessness and sporadic cheers from the audience, which was both expected and unexpected, and horse No. 3 won the race.

The well-dressed young man left the scene angrily, the red-haired lady seemed to be about to cry, the father who was holding the child had already handed the child into the hands of the mother, and he kept making phone calls, and even the old man who seemed to be quite experienced tore up his lottery ticket in a fit of anger.

It seems that not only did they not win the lottery, but they also lost quite a bit.

"Excuse me, where is the exit?" I asked the only person around me who didn't seem to be so upset—the middle-aged man who had a slight bow, who put his hat back on, and the excitement was gone, but he seemed too calm, too calm to hear me.

"Hmph, it's just luck. The experienced old man walked past the middle-aged man and said viciously, "I advise you to leave quickly with the money, and be careful that you lose all your money in the next game!"

Well, it turns out that this middle-aged man made a bet on horse No. 3.

"Hello?" I asked again, but he ignored me.

"He can't hear you," a voice suddenly sounded in my ear, "and he can't see you." ”

Maybe it's a lot of strange things, and even though I couldn't see where the guy I was talking to was when I looked around, I wasn't surprised at all.

"It's a dream. I looked at the horses at the finish line, and it was a little blurry that they were too far away, "Which horse is you? Which of the eight are you?"

"Isn't it as stupid as the legend says. The voice continued, "Tell me, then, which horse is me?"

"Number 3. I said, "The horse that wins the race should be eligible for the name of the Eight Horses." ”

A hearty laugh rang through my ears, "Looks like you've heard the news that I'm coming for you." ”

As soon as the words fell, the finish line, which had been a little vague just a moment ago, suddenly appeared in front of me as if the camera had been pulled closer, and the ugliest horse in the racehorse No. 3 had already turned to look at me, and it was smiling with its teeth bared, but it looked even uglier than it had just been.

"Just come to me, you don't have to go through a dream, right?" I asked, "It's still such a complicated dream." ”

I've seen the past of youkai in dreams before, but most of them are blurry or even pure white backgrounds, and it's the first time that dreams are so chaotic, and the old man is right, youkai who can make dreams of this level are not something I can afford to provoke.

"Because I've heard that the ghostwriter is an indecisive and nosy boy," said Horse No. 3 with his mouth open, as if he were chewing hay, "and if we don't make it clear, the ghostwriter probably won't agree to our request to open the gates of no man's land, and besides, my ugliness is too easy to scare people away." ”

What is this request, dreaming of this magnitude, it is a complete demonstration

"I forgot to tell you," said Horse 3 again, "I can hear your thoughts in my dreams, and your kettle seems to be running dry." ”

I woke up suddenly, the shrill screaming of the kettle was quickly shuttling through the shop, and I reflected for a few seconds before I realized that it was not a dream, and quickly got up and ran to the storeroom to turn off the fire.

"It's terrible, the kettle is all burned black and I don't know if it can be restored," I looked at the miserable kettle in front of me, "I can't escape this scolding." ”

But I can't care so much now, everything in the dream just now is still vivid, open the old man left me the atlas of the eight horses, the figures of the eight horses appear on the paper, brown messy fur, skinny figures, strange and funny movements, like a smile and not a smile, but in any case I can't find the No. 3 horse on the paper, not even the slightest similarity.

"Hey, boy. Horse No. 3's voice rang out again.

"It's not going to be a dream again" After what happened just now, I can't tell whether I'm in reality or not.

"You're in your shop, ghostwriter. Number 3 replied.

I searched for the source of the sound, but the end result was jaw-dropping.

"Boy, don't be stunned. "The source of the sound is nowhere else, but the old map that the old man left me.

"You, you, you" I was a little incoherent.

"What are you, could it be that you stutter?" The second horse counted from right to left on the map, no, it was a portrait of a horse, and he actually opened his mouth to speak, "Or are you so shocked by my dashing posture that you can't speak?"

"You're the only one?" I finally squeezed out a sentence.

"Oh, so you're wondering about it," the horse said, looking left and right, its dark eyes rolling, "they haven't come back yet." ”

Two feathers, flying birds - this is the picture of the horse.

"I'm the second in the eight horses," said Feather, "and I'm the one who runs like a feather and a feather." ”