The husband is actually time-traveling!

Chapter 77 The Ancient Palace
Entering the base camp of ghosts is a very reckless act.

It seems almost like seeking death.

But waiting is also death, and starving to death is also death. It is better to fight before death. Maybe there is a passage back to the normal world in the building complex.

But Wan Yanjing's feet seemed to be nailed to the spot and she dared not move.

Staying away from fear and fearing death are engraved in our genes.

It really takes courage to take the initiative to die in this weird and absurd world.

After an unknown amount of time, she heard the second sound of wheels.

Just like the previous funeral procession, this new batch also consisted of dozens of figures, with black coffins, red and white silk bindings, and "dinging bells" bells.

The ringing of the bell stopped at the small door of the building, and the process was the same as the previous batch. When the coffin completely entered the building, the sound of the wheels also disappeared.

Two batches of coffins?
Or... is this a recurring scene?
Wanyanjing gritted her teeth and followed.

She stayed under the low wall a few dozen meters to the right from the small door and threw a small stone over first.

The small stone fell there, making a crisp sound, as if it hit a stone slab.

Wan Yanjing waited for a while, then carefully stood up straight and looked into the wall.

Behind the low wall are the shiny white stone floor tiles, which are clean and in sharp contrast to the dilapidated tomb land outside the wall.

The small stone she threw landed on the white stone floor tiles not far away, with the building behind it, nothing unusual.

Wanyanjing looked at the small stone, and there was a war between heaven and man in her heart. Finally, she closed her eyes without caring... Putting her hands on the stone wall, she jumped over it lightly, stepping on it with her feet covered with grave soil. On spotless ground.

On the other side of the low wall, the line of sight was no longer blocked by the gray fog, and became much clearer. The blue-gray building walls were immediately in sight. Looking up, I felt shocked. Its height was almost comparable to that of the Imperial Palace in Beijing.

Wanyan walked quietly close to the corner, and soon she came across a turn, and she turned in.

On both sides of the deep alley are ancient palace buildings, with two lanterns, one white and one red, hanging on the left and right of the closed red door.

There is a dark plaque in the center of the top of the door of all residences. The name of the temple should be inscribed on it, but it is unclear.

Judging from the situation, this seems to be an ancient palace that has been left for hundreds of years.

The gray-black mist did not disturb this pure land, and the token hung around the neck lay dormant, not glowing or burning.

The danger seemed to be far away silently, but Wanyanjing did not dare to relax at all.

The ancient palace, which was completely silent and deserted, was inherently strange and strange.

If there is no one, who lights the lantern?

Where did the transported coffins go?

Wanyanjing's hair stood on end and her scalp felt numb for a while. Then, these fears were gradually smoothed over by the passage of time, but soon they would become stunned again in the suffocating environment.

After repeated torture, her thoughts began to diverge, even to some scary places. For example, this might all be a dream, and maybe she could escape by slaying herself with a knife, etc.

She was trapped in a gray and black cemetery before, and she thought she could find a way out here, but now this palace alley, which was connected in all directions and made her lose her way, seemed more sinister.

Wan Yanjing had noticed her mental state was declining, but she was so exhausted that she couldn't muster the energy to be vigilant.The road in front of her began to become blurry. She turned the corner like a zombie, and without even reacting, she walked into an unknown palace with a red door wide open.

When she suddenly woke up, she saw a spacious inner room that looked like an ancestral hall.

Hundreds of candlesticks illuminate the entire hall, and hundreds of tablets guard the central statue.

The statue is more than ten meters high, and its craftsmanship is truly miraculous.

The left half is a plump and soft female figure, with picturesque eyebrows, delicate and plump skin, healthy and rosy, her gentle eyes are half-closed, looking down quietly, staring at the visitor; the right half is a stiff and dull green figure. The purple face and the gray and cold eyes stared straight ahead indifferently, similar to those of the corpses surrounding the carriage.

The clothes of the statue are also carved lifelike, and the yellow gauze gently covers important parts.

The gauze clothes also match the image of the statue. The left half has clear and gorgeous embroidery threads, but the right half is dirty. The holes in the clothes are almost invisible, exposing the rotten and boneless body underneath.

The moment she looked into the eyes of the left half of the statue, Wanyanjing involuntarily took two more steps forward. She felt a terrifying desire to immediately prostrate herself and sacrifice her soul, body, and all her thoughts.

In an instant, Wan Yanjing quickly grasped Sanjiu's blade with her left hand. The skin was cut open, and blood flowed down. The wound was deep enough to see the bones. The severe pain made her break into a cold sweat, but it also made her sober. The difficult task Take your eyes away from the idol.

This is not a simple process.

The statue seems to be the incarnation of all good things, synonymous with comfort and enjoyment, which is extremely fascinating and addictive.

The moment she completely broke free, Wanyanjing collapsed to the ground in exhaustion, her clothes soaked with cold sweat. She gasped for air and screamed silently in her heart.

What the hell is going on here! ?

Only then did she realize that she was not the only one in the palace.

There were seven or eight futons in the middle of the hall. Not far away from her, a man wearing a golden red cassock was kneeling on the futon in front of the hall, muttering something in a broken voice.

She didn't know what had fascinated her just now, but she didn't notice this person at all.

Of course, it's possible that it's not a human being.

Wanyanjing endured the pain, tore off a strip of cloth from the hem of her clothes, wrapped it around the wound on her left hand, then used the knife as a crutch to support herself and staggered back to the edge of the hall.

The door was closed, and she couldn't remember whether she came in through the door. The memory just now was as hazy as a veil.

She lowered her head, looked at her surroundings from the corner of her eye, and focused her energy on her ears to listen to what the man in cassock sitting cross-legged on the futon was saying.

Unexpectedly, what the man muttered mechanically was not the strange verses she expected, but——

"Help, I'm most afraid of the Chinese cult horror book. Is there anyone who can help me? Help."

"Please God, please let me go, and please kind-hearted people passing by, please save me..."

The tone is straightforward, the desire to survive seems not very strong, and it even sounds a bit funny.

Wanyanjing was all too familiar with the sound of this murmuring sound.

The person sitting on the futon kneeling on the mat is either a human or a ghost, a loyal believer in the statue, a mysterious man wearing a cassock...

Oh, it's that fool Huo Xiang!
(End of this chapter)