Horror: There is joy in the opening of the coffin, and the ball is brought to the end

Chapter 63 The weird basketball boy ([-])
Maybe he was a little worried when he saw my dull expression, so he comforted me, "Don't worry, the boy you saw is definitely not your cousin. If he is still here, how can he still be a child? Don't even think of him as a child." Damn it, there are no ghosts in this world!"

Sometimes ignorance is also a kind of happiness!If he had been controlled by a powerful ghost and almost died at its hands, I wonder if he would dare to say that there are no ghosts in the world.

After hearing the past story about my second uncle, I became even more curious about the basketball kid I saw at night. The kid was so weird that I had to wonder if he was a human or a ghost.
After thinking about it, I shook my head in a funny way. Just because I can occasionally see ghosts with my eyes now, I can't just arbitrarily suspect that some strange-looking people are ghosts, right?

After talking to Qiao Sheng that day, I could not forget my missing little cousin or the boy who played basketball and dug in the dirt at night.

—

The late night in the countryside is as dark as splashed ink.

I was walking on an unpopular street, and the biting cold wind was blowing, and the windbreaker on my body couldn't resist it at all.

The street is foggy tonight, and the strong wind can't blow it away. It's so weird and frightening.

Suddenly a familiar voice came from behind me.

"pump puff"

It was the sound of a basketball being slapped. The basketball boy appeared again, and my body froze.The moment I turned around quickly, the boy flashed in front of me like a shadow.

He lowered his head, played basketball very skillfully, and had a strange and sinister aura that made people shiver. Just like last time, he walked towards the corner on the right.

This time, I followed without hesitation.

We walked one after another, and in a blink of an eye, we came to a field of reeds.

There are grasses all around, reeds swaying in the wind, and crows calling "ahhhh" in the air, which sounds like there is a sense of sadness.

Why did I come here?I couldn't help but feel a little timid.

The boy squatted down in a reed field in front of him, and then began to dig up the soil inexplicably. His hands were wet and sticky, like mud.

I felt a little uneasy and wanted to leave, but I couldn't let go, so I called to the boy, "Why are you here alone, kid? Where is your home? Shall I take you back?"

The boy didn't seem to hear my shout and kept digging with his head lowered.

Come on, he could be a ghost.I was so nervous that my palms were covered in cold sweat, but what if this child ran away from his parents in anger?
Really unable to overcome my conscience, I asked again: "Child, can you tell me your name and what are your parents' names?"

He still didn't answer.

I have always had a question in my mind that I wanted to answer. I must find out today. I bit my lip and impulsively "plucked up the courage" to shout: "Zhang Rensheng."

With this shout, the boy stopped digging, but did not look back. The basketball next to him rolled out and disappeared into the darkness.

My heart was pounding, and I asked again, "Are you Zhang Rensheng?"

The boy started to turn around, and the moment he turned around, I finally saw his face clearly.He has a severely anemic face, a pair of deep-set dark circles under his eyes, and a pair of eyes that are lifeless and full of resentment.

Then, the "painting style" of the picture suddenly changed. On the boy's relatively clean facial features, soil suddenly flowed out of seven holes, bit by bit, more and more.

(End of this chapter)