If it's scary, just be scary. Don't be afraid that you'll become an immortal in a few chapters. If you're robbing a tomb, just robbing the tomb. Don't use romance to make up the number of chapters. If you're illiterate, just think I'm farting.
Everyone is familiar with coffin shops, but do you dare to enter a coffin shop where people have died? Ever since I took over a coffin shop, weird things have been surrounding me, and I have learned that the people who come to buy coffins are not necessarily living people...
They are both high-quality and highly rated tomb-robbing novels. The first one is highly recommended. I am a poor boy from a mountain village in Northeast China. In the early 20th century, in order to get ahead, I joined one of the northern tomb-robbing gangs. From south to north, there are all kinds of worlds, three religions and nine schools. Over the years, I have been mixed up from a young man to a middle-aged man, and I have a good drinker. As time goes by, I have come into contact with many strange people and strange things. If you are interested, you may wish to move to a small bench and listen to the stories of a tomb robber. [The masterpiece of bird food]
Copper coins crack, ghosts light candles, ink pipe threads are broken and corpses fly. The stone man wept, the nails in the coffin were rusty, and his legs were numb due to the blood curse!
2. After the disaster, the earth was devastated. Food is scarce, resources are scarce, and the situation is chaotic... A young man who escaped from the area to be planned, with his back facing the sky of yellow sand, came to District 9 to make a living alone, but he never expected to meet three or five friends by chance, and rose up in troubled times by chance, starting a legendary story...
I also don't like people who slowly start cultivating immortality. I find it really hard to get into it. I'm currently following the first one, and overall it's okay. It's a horror and supernatural novel, with the protagonist growing up in a mausoleum. It's not a cool novel, the traditional horror kind.
2.3. Today's update "Itch Under the Skin" tells the story of a horrific parasitic incident caused by a strange tattoo. After the lovelorn Chen Mo got a tattoo of thorns at a tattoo shop in the city, he discovered that they were parasitic creatures that squirmed and spread under the skin, feeding on people's emotions. Tattoo artists are actually parasite breeders, and tattoos such as "obsession" in their shops will grow based on the host's obsession and even spread to others. As Chen Mo was completely eroded, he began to lure more people into getting parasitic tattoos. These parasites spread through the ley lines, using the city clock tower as a new nest, turning the entire city into a gathering place for hosts. In the story, people controlled by tattoos gradually lose themselves and become tools for the spread of parasites, showing how desires and obsessions can be exploited by terrifying entities, ultimately dragging the world into the abyss.
Hey, let's do the opposite, you rob the tomb and I guard the tomb [you will taste it carefully] "The ranger who has been guarding Fuchun Mountain for thirty years discovered that he was not alive at all." A landslide on a rainy night cracked the seal of the bronze coffin. County files show that he does not exist in the forest farm. And the clan pattern emerging on his arm was pointing towards the deep mountains - where the ruins of Shouling Village, which disappeared a hundred years ago, suddenly reappeared in the world. The Bureau of Supernatural Powers was looking for him, the archaeological team was chasing him, and the things in the tomb were calling him... When the floor tiles of the forest ranger's cabin suddenly flipped over, revealing a tunnel full of soul-soothing spells, he finally understood: It was never the trees he was guarding. It's something that even history books don't dare to record. It's something that can eat up time. "Secret Shadow of Fuchun Mountain", watch the bloody battle between modern mausoleum guardians and the rifts in space and time.
The hole was dug diagonally downward and became narrower as we walked, so I had to walk sideways several times. The stone wall was so wet that water could be squeezed out, and it felt slippery and greasy, with an indescribable fishy smell, like old rust mixed with mud. Water dripped from the honeycomb holes above the head, tapping, tapping, hitting the equipment, and the sound was particularly loud as it bumped back and forth in the narrow passage. I always felt like something was wrong. The feel of the stone wall, the smell of rust mixed with mud... Are so familiar. I put Tieji down, pulled out the Tibetan knife from my waist, and when I needed to step sideways through the narrow place again, I scraped hard against the rock wall next to me with the back of the knife. "Crunch——" The sound was wrong. It wasn't the friction sound that a stone should have, but more like some metal being scratched, dull, with a sluggish toughness. Wherever the back of the knife passed, a layer of slippery moss and sediment was scraped off, revealing the true nature of the rock wall underneath. It is a dull, almost black color. Under the flashlight, it has an extremely dark, light-absorbing matte texture. My heart sank suddenly. What kind of rock wall is this? This is clearly iron. I raised my hand and rapped my knuckles hard on the dark rock wall I had just scratched. "Dong, dong." The sound was dull and short, with a unique reverberation of metal, not even half as hollow or crisp as rock. In this narrow passage, the knocking sound was amplified and spread forward and back along the cave wall, humming with a strange resonance. "What's going on?" The falcon in front stopped, turned around, and the beam of light hit my face. I didn't answer immediately, I just raised the knife, this time using the blade, and scraped hard along a larger area next to it. The slippery attachments fell away, revealing a wider dark "rock wall". The flowing texture and the matte finish of the metal are invisible under the headlights. I even saw that on the edges of some deeper scratches, there was an extremely subtle metallic luster that was different from ordinary stone chips. "This material..." My throat was dry and my voice was a bit harsh, "It's not stone." Falcon frowned, and the light beam moved to the place where I scratched, and looked carefully. Norbu also came over, and Boss Wu followed behind. His eyes were distracted, but he was also attracted by the silence and stared blankly. "Is it iron?" Falcon reached out and touched it. The tentacles were cold and hard, not as rough as rocks. "It's meteorite." "The purity may not be high, and it's mixed with a lot of impurities, but it's definitely meteorite. It's the same material as the entrance we found under the Windweeping Canyon when we came in." As soon as the words came out, I shuddered. The entrance under the valley was opened on a huge, dark piece of meteorite iron. It was incredible at the time, but it was only regarded as the remains of an ancient meteorite impact. But what if... What if there's more than just that one piece? I used my flashlight to shine against the rock wall and into the depths of the passage. The beam extended on the slippery surface. Wherever it went, I deliberately observed the grooves and edges of naturally formed holes that had been washed out by water over a long period of time. Under the strong light of a flashlight, at certain angles, the edges faintly glowed with the same extremely dark metallic sheen as the scratched areas. Not only the area around us, forward and backward, the cave walls as far as the eye can see, even the dripping rock top above the head, the slippery ground under the feet... Under the thick sediment and moss, they are all probably the same thing. This is not a piece of meteorite. This is a vein. An unimaginably huge ancient meteoric iron vein buried deep inside the mountain. The entrance we came in from was only a small part of this vein that was accidentally exposed to glacial erosion. And now, we are walking inside this vein, walking in a huge and strange "blood vessel" made of extraterrestrial metal. Kailash... This sacred mountain surrounded by countless legends actually hides something like this. I have another suspicion, which is about to be confirmed. "Nobu, what time is it now?" I asked again, this was the second time I had asked this question since I came down. Nobu quickly raised his wrist and checked the time, "It's afternoon, 19:27. The date is..." Nobu's voice was stuck, as if something had suddenly strangled his throat. He stared blankly at the dial on his wrist, his eyes widened and his lips opened, but no sound came out. The flashlight shone across his stiff face, which showed a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and gradually spreading fear. "Time." I stared at him, my heart beating heavily behind my ribs, "Tell me what time it is now, what day it is." "Afternoon... 19:27..." Nobu's voice was dry, and every word was spoken with great difficulty, as if he had exhausted all his strength, "But the date... Is still... April 12th." April 12th. From the time I manually calibrated the time, we went down to the Silver City of the Dome, climbed to the Black Tower, met those black monsters with human faces, found the body of deputy leader Chen, read the stone piece, encountered more monsters, and finally crawled into this passage and discovered that this was a meteorite vein... All of this, from day to night, from the edge of life and death to the verge of despair, it felt like at least a whole day had passed, or even longer. That's right. The answer lies here. "Actually, this is the key..." I silently put forward this point of view. In fact, I had a vague idea in my mind, but it was too mysterious to express. I felt panicked even if I said it. "It is said that time in this mountain is chaotic. People who come in feel that after a few days, there is only an instant outside, or the other way around... Maybe it has something to do with this thing." "The Dome Silver City is located directly above the mine, so it is naturally the first line to be affected, so the time is... Wrong." The atmosphere at the scene fell into silence. "Let's go." Ying Falcon averted his gaze, his face looking particularly cold under the headlights, "Whether it's a ghost or a god, you have to go to the end to see. If you stop here, you're waiting for death." He turned sideways and started to move forward again. The passage was even narrower, so I had to take off my backpack and drag it along. My chest and back were pressed tightly against the slippery iron wall, and the cold feeling seeped through my clothes. With every step we take, we feel like this huge, silent metal object is breathing slightly, sucking us deeper into it. "Watch your step." I reminded in a low voice. No one responded, only the sound of heavy breathing and the rustling of clothes against the iron wall were amplified and distorted in the narrow space. The slope of the passage seemed to be gentler, but the feeling of being enveloped and swallowed was getting heavier and heavier. The iron walls on both sides were no longer smooth arcs, but began to have more irregular bulges and depressions. Some of the depressions were so deep that when a flashlight shined through, it was impossible to see the bottom, only a thick black that absorbed the light. The "honeycomb eyes" on the top of the head have become sparse, and the sound of water drops has diminished, but the air has become more stagnant, with a mixture of rust and that sweet rotten smell that is heavy in the lungs. After moving forward for about twenty or thirty meters, the falcon walking in the front suddenly stopped. This time the stop was very abrupt, the body was completely frozen, and even the flashlight was fixed on a point ahead, motionless. "What's wrong?" I asked hoarsely, my heart beating. The sound hit the narrow space and echoed. Falcon didn't answer immediately. After a few seconds, he turned sideways very slowly and bit by bit, getting out of sight, and at the same time turned the flashlight light to the side. The beam of light illuminated an area in front. That was no longer a passage. The moment we saw that thing, we all realized that we might be about to get the answer - it was a skeleton. He huddled in a slightly more open pit at the end of the passage, leaning against the cold iron wall with his back, his legs bent, and his head lowered. The clothes on his body were so rotten that it was impossible to see their original appearance, leaving only some dark brown rags stuck to the skin and flesh, clinging to a gray-white skeleton. The bones were covered with a thin layer of gray-green mildew, glowing with a dim air of death under the flashlight light. The posture is very quiet, as if he has been sitting here for a long time and fell asleep. "Another..." Nobu's voice was dry, with a numb despair. We have seen too much along the way, and death sticks to us like a shadow. But at this moment, Boss Wu, who had been following me like a wandering spirit, suddenly made a strange "ho" sound in his throat. The sound was not loud, but in the dead silence, it was like sandpaper scraping against iron. We all looked back at him. The muscles on Boss Wu's face were twitching, his eyes were staring at the skeleton, his mouth was half-open, his lips were trembling violently, but he couldn't make any clear sound. His eyes, which had been blurred and empty all the way, seemed to be stabbed by something at this moment, and erupted with an extremely frightening light - it was not wakefulness, but extreme fear, mixed with disbelief and some kind of... Recognition, creepy confirmation. "Boss Wu?" I called tentatively. He ignored me and moved forward stiffly, step by step, as if he was sleepwalking. He pushed away Nobu who was blocking him. His movements were not big, but his strength was astonishing. Norbu staggered as he pushed him, and his back hit the iron wall with a muffled "thud" sound. Boss Wu ignored it and walked straight to the skeleton and stopped. His back was hunched, the flashlight hanging at his side, and the beam of light hit the gelatinous material at his feet randomly. He just watched, staring. Then, slowly, extremely slowly, he squatted down opposite the skeleton, his face almost touching the gray-white skull. "Old..." He squeezed out a broken syllable from deep in his throat. He tried again, his lips trembling violently: "Gao..." "Gao... Yuanzhi...?" He finally said the name. The voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of waking up something. "It's him... It's really him..." He whispered incoherently, his voice full of collapse. The moment he saw him, Boss Wu seemed to have aged ten years, and all his energy had been drained away. Boss Wu stretched out his hand to touch the shoulder of the skeleton, his fingers trembling violently in mid-air. In the end, he didn't touch it, but just stopped a few centimeters above the bone, as if touching an invisible barrier. "Gao Yuanzhi..." He read it again, this time more clearly, with a dull pain of resignation. He stared at the drooped head, his eyes moving down the cervical spine, scanning the ribs, pelvis, and finally stopping on the curled leg bones. The bones of his left hand were a bit strange, with a few finger bones scattered and falling into the black sediment next to it. The arm bones of his right arm were pinned back at an unnatural angle, as if at the last moment, he wanted to reach for something behind his back. Boss Wu's flashlight followed his gaze and shone it bit by bit. The light stopped behind the skeleton, on the iron wall. Just where the spine touches it, there are some marks on the slippery, dark metal surface. Not a natural bump. It's very messy, very deep, one layer after another, as if it was drawn out repeatedly with the last of its strength. The flashlight shined diagonally, and the shadows highlighted the scratches. Is the word. Or rather, it was once a word. Repeatedly covered and eroded by years of water vapor, moss, and unknown sediments, the strokes have become blurred, and the edges have melted into the texture of the iron wall itself. But the general outline is still there and can be barely discerned. Boss Wu's breathing stopped. He leaned forward, almost pressing his face against the iron wall, his cloudy eyeballs staring at the carvings, his lips moving silently, and he struggled to identify the almost smoothed strokes. The falcon and I looked at each other, neither of us moved, and even our breathing relaxed. The only sound left in the passage was the sound of water dripping from a very high place, tapping, tapping, hitting the iron, echoing hollowly. Nobu covered his arm. The place where he hit the iron wall was probably very painful, but he was still frozen and looked at Boss Wu's rickety and trembling back. A long time passed, maybe only a few minutes, but in that dead silence, it felt like a lifetime. Boss Wu's shoulders slumped. The whole person's energy, the last bit of obsession that kept him going, the insistence on finding Gao Yuanzhi, was completely released the moment he saw those handwritings. He is no longer the boss Wu who followed with gritted teeth and unfocused eyes but never stopped. He has become an old man who has been completely drained, leaving only a skin that has lost its vitality. A sob rolled out of his throat. It was very muffled, as if it was squeezed out from the deepest part of his lungs, and it sounded like blood foam. Then he started talking. The voice was very soft, very flat, without any ups and downs, like he was reading someone else's epitaph, or like he was passing a final judgment on himself. "He... Walked in backwards." Boss Wu's hand, shaking badly, pointed to the right arm bone pinned behind his back. "He didn't die sitting down... He leaned here with his back, facing the direction we came from... And fell down. After falling, he didn't get up again." "He wanted to go back... Until the end, his hand was still facing that way..." His fingers slowly moved to the carvings, tracing the almost disappeared strokes in the air. "These words... Were carved with his fingers. When his nails were worn away, he used his finger bones..." "... They were not carved when he came in. They were carved at the last... The last moment." He stopped, his chest heaving violently, and the air he inhaled was like a broken bellows. He closed his eyes, and two lines of tears seeped out from the slits of his closed eyes, flowing down the deep grooves on his face, gathering at the tip of his chin, dripping down, and mixing into the ground without making any sound. "What are you writing about?" My voice sounded deep in the narrow space. Boss Wu opened his eyes, tears were still there, but he seemed not to feel them. He looked at those words, word for word, and read out hoarsely the last words that were almost swallowed up by time and the iron wall.
Four Taoist heroes bravely break into an abandoned hospital, slay demons and ghosts, and uncover a shocking secret! Yin-Yang Eyes and the Five Ghost Formation, see how they survive the desperate situation and start a new journey! [Grass has been planted][Grass has been planted][Grass has been planted]
He suddenly came closer, and his cloudy eyes reflected Qiu Wuya's tense face, "If you hear a woman crying in the back mountain, pretend you didn't hear it; if someone knocks on the door in the middle of the night, don't answer; if you see red clothes floating outside the window..." "How?" The old man took out a dirty cloth bag from his arms and threw it over: "Put the cinnabar here on the lintel." The sound of the banger sounded at midnight, and Qiu Wuya lay undressed on the hard bed. The oil lamp had already been extinguished according to the rules, and the moonlight passed through the window paper, leaving blurry spots on the blue brick floor. He took out Meng Hanjiang's blood letter and read it again, and suddenly found that there was a very faint ink mark on the edge of the note, which could only be seen clearly under the moonlight - it was half a skewed mountain road map, with a coffin-shaped box drawn at the end. "Ugh..." That's when the crying started. At first it was like a wild cat meowing in spring, but gradually it turned into a woman's suppressed sobs, circling the small courtyard at times far and near. Qiu Wuya moved lightly to the window, licked the broken window paper and looked out. Under the moonlight, a woman with disheveled hair in white was kneeling by the well to comb her hair. The comb was made of bones. Every time she combed it, a lot of hair fell off along with her scalp. There was a swaddling baby lying at her feet, oozing black and red blood, soaking the charms around the well platform until the corners were raised. [Thinking] Qiu Wuya touched the cinnabar bag in his arms, but heard a "squeak" - the wooden door of the east wing opened by itself.