The rain was like broken beads, crackling on the dilapidated temple door.
The hem of Gu Changqing's green cloth gown was soaked through and stuck to his calves stickyly, feeling terrible.
He raised his eyes and looked at the sky. It was as dark as an upside-down iron pot, and muffled thunder was rolling around deep in the clouds, as if it would not stop until it poked a hole in the sky.
"Master, the rain is too heavy, let's... Let's go in and take shelter?" The book boy Ah Fu held the almost soaked book box in his arms, his lips turned purple from the cold, and his teeth were chattering.
This ghost place has no village or shop, only an abandoned mountain temple, half of the roof has collapsed, and the dark temple door is like the huge mouth of a wild beast, waiting to devour passers-by.
Gu Changqing said nothing, but glanced at the ground inside the temple door with his eyes that always seemed too calm.
There are no footprints.
No, to be precise, there were no muddy footprints.
Although there is some dust on the ground, it is dry and neat, indicating that no one has walked in from this wet mountain road in the past few days.
