On a rainy night, the green bricks and gray tiles of the courtyard loomed in the lightning, as if countless eyes were peeping in the darkness. On the third day after I moved into this courtyard, the mottled screen wall once again seeped dark red blood, spelling out the words "Get Out of Here" - but this time, the blood stains did not dissipate, but instead flowed towards the old door pillar in the corner of the courtyard. I knelt down and touched the door pillar with my fingers, feeling a biting chill coming over me. In the resonance, I saw a blurry picture: a pair of hands, tightly squeezing the throat of an old man, with the courtyard of this courtyard in the background. The blood is not a warning, it is a cry for help. I looked up suddenly, and the rain mixed with blood soaked my trousers. This is not evil, this is murder. And I, as a treasure hunter, must solve this mystery.
