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Chapter 13 The Scariest Story
"Yesterday was Ghost Festival, right?"

"Well. On Ghost Festival last year, a woman told me a scary story, did you listen to it?"

"listen."

"However, there is a characteristic of this story. Those who have heard it will die within a year..."

"It's okay, I told her this story."

In fact, the writer was the first person in the Golden Statue Company to see Fu Shi.

On the day of the interview, the writer arrived at the company earlier.He drove the car into the underground parking lot, and then took the elevator from the second basement floor to the third floor.

The elevator didn't come down for a long time, and he pressed the button again and again, looking a little impatient.

The basement was dimly lit, dead silent, and filled with a damp musty smell, which made people feel very uncomfortable.

The elevator finally came and opened slowly.

Now, it's an underground door.Inside is a small house that can go up and down. The speed of going up is faster than climbing stairs, and the speed of going down is slower than jumping off a building...

The woman driving the elevator was not there, her stool was empty.

A man is standing in an elevator.

He was wearing a small black padded jacket with brown fur around the collar, which looked weird.

It seemed that this person went to the parking lot, but he didn't come out, but smiled slightly at the writer and said, "Teacher, hello."

The writer walked into the elevator and asked, "Are you..."

The man clicked on the third floor and said, "I'm here to apply for the assistant to the general manager."

The writer looked at his face and asked again: "Do you know me?"

The man smiled again and said, "I came to this company to apply for the job because I liked the stories you told. I am also from Daxing'anling, and I live in the same town as you."

"Oh."

"If I can get this position, I can work with you. I have been dreaming of this for 18 years!"

This is clearly a close call, hope the writers can help. 18 years ago, the writer published his first fantasy novel "Three Minus One Equals How Much".How old was he then!
The writer said lightly: "Thank you." Then, he stopped talking and looked up at the LCD TV in the elevator.An environmental advertisement is being played inside.

This person said behind the writer: "My name is Fu Shi, the Fu of Sanfu, the food of food. I really hope that when you write horror stories, you can use my name."

"No problem," said the writer.

The third floor has arrived.

Fu Shi said: "Teacher, I'm going for an interview, you wait for my good news!"

The writer smiled politely and said, "Good luck."

The writer did nothing for Fu Shi, there are too many such admirers.Moreover, Mitya is very arbitrary in his actions, and nothing he says is useful at all.

Unexpectedly, Fu Shi stood out among dozens of people and finally got the position of assistant to the general manager.

Fushi seldom comes to the company.

He's only in the corn garden.

Five days later, on November 2005, 11, it was a weekend, and Mijia was away on a business trip.Fu Shi called the writer specifically and invited him to drink in the corn garden.

The writer accepted the invitation.

He's a smart guy.Now, Fu Shi has become his investor assistant, and the wind around his pillow cannot be underestimated.

After taking a seat in the living room, the writer said:
"Fu Shi, congratulations, you finally got your wish."

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have come to Xijing, so I thank you very much." He said, he took out a bottle from the ice bucket: "Come on, let's celebrate."

"Wine?"

"Champagne."

"I never drink."

"no problem."

Fu took a white cloth, wiped the champagne dry, tore off the foil cover, removed the wire safety cover, tilted the champagne slightly, and turned the bottle gently, the carbon dioxide gas in the wine pushed the cork out, and there was a loud noise——“Boom .”

Then, Fu wiped the mouth of the bottle clean with a mouth cloth, and poured two thirds into each of the two cups.

Clink glasses and drink lightly.

Veuve Clicquot champagne, mellow taste.

"When you were 20 years old, you were still in Daxinganling, right?" Fu Shi asked.

"Yes."

"At that time, what did you do?"

"Unemployed."

"Sister-in-law is from my hometown?"

"No."

The writer seems to be reluctant to mention his hometown and that time.

Many people have some ulterior experiences before they get rich.After they broke away from the bottom layer, they immediately cut off part of the memory.Writers certainly do the same.

For example, the hometown he described may beautify it intentionally or unintentionally—in winter, it is lonely with ice and snow, and it is all silvery white.In summer, the forest is lush and isolated from the world.In fact, it may be poor, backward, dilapidated, dirty, like a nightmare...

This Fu Shi crawled out of a nightmare.

Fu Shi sensed that the writer was avoiding something, and changed the subject wisely:

"I have a story, very scary, let me tell you."

"Okay, the next episode just needs a story."

"I'm worried that you will be frightened..."

"A person who specializes in scaring others, can he be scared by others?"

"This story is different."

"What's the difference?"

"As long as people who have heard it, they are no longer normal..."

"Ha, what about you?"

"Me? If you don't think I'm not an abnormal person, then it proves that you are definitely not an abnormal person."

This sentence went around like a mess, and the writer hadn't figured it out yet, and couldn't remember what Fu Shi was talking about.

He said, "Speak."

Fu Shi said, "I'll open another bottle of champagne."

He turned his head to look at the empty bottle and asked:
"Is there alcohol in the champagne?"

"15 degrees."

"I thought champagne was soda."

"You don't get drunk on champagne, do you?"

"Feeling dizzy."

"Then you rest for a while?"

"I'll be back in a while."

"drive?"

"drive."

"No, no, no!"

"Then I'll rest on the sofa for a while."

"Ok."

The writer never had the habit of taking a nap, and couldn't fall asleep even with the blindfold on.Now, he couldn't hold on anymore.When Fu Shi went to the bedroom to get him a blanket, he was already lying down on the sofa, drowsy and about to fall asleep.

Fu Shi seemed to be sitting on the sofa next to him, high up.His voice seemed to come from a world far away:

"teacher……"

"Um……"

"Let me tell you a story..."

"Um……"

"This story is different. Anyone who has heard it will no longer be normal..."

"Um……"

"If you don't think I'm not an abnormal person, then it proves that you are definitely not an abnormal person..."

"Um……"

——He didn't wake up until after three o'clock in the afternoon.

Fu Shi heard the movement and came out of a room.

"Teacher, have you slept well?"

"Too strong to drink, I'm sorry."

"You should be in bed."

"It's okay, I slept soundly, and I was dreaming."

"Your dreams must be horror stories."

"I dreamed that I walked into a door in a trance with a red cross on it. There was a middle-aged nurse sitting inside with a blank expression, waiting to give me an injection..."

"Male nurse?"

"Male nurse. How do you know?"

"Guess."

"This male nurse is wearing a blue shirt and looks weird. In fact, he didn't give me an injection, but a blood transfusion. The needle tube is thick and big, like a veterinarian's. Do you know where the blood comes from? "

"From his own... tongue?"

"You guessed it right! He stuck out his tongue, pierced the thick needle in, drew out a tube of black and red blood, held it tremblingly in his hand, walked behind me, and stuck it on my shoulder... "As he said, the writer stretched out his hand and rubbed it: "It still feels a little painful now."

Fu Shi touched something on the sofa and said, "It stabbed you."

When the writer saw it, it was the wire safety cover of the champagne, which somehow fell onto the sofa, just under his shoulder.

"Haha, let me tell you why I had such a strange dream!"

"Teacher, sit down for a while, I'll make some tea."

"I have to go back, and I have to catch up with a manuscript."

"Oh, then I won't delay you."

"Thank you for the champagne."

"Thank you for coming."

On the way home, the writer turned on the radio while driving.His horror story was being told inside.

Listening, he remembered something, took out his phone, and dialed Fu Shi:

"By the way, you haven't told the scariest story yet."

"I've already told you."

"When?"

"You lie on the couch and I sit next to you—forgot?"

"I'm asleep!"

"But, keep your eyes open."

"When I sleep, my eyes are always half-closed. Tell me again."

"I said, a man walked into a hospital—do you remember that?"

"Can not remember."

"Oh, it seems that you really didn't hear..."

"what's next?"

"Actually, this story is the same as your dream. It is also a nurse giving blood transfusion to a person—otherwise, how would I know that the nurse in your dream was a man, and you guessed that he drew blood from his tongue? .”

"I understand. Your voice entered my ears, so I dreamed this dream in a daze."

"Oh, if I knew you were allergic to alcohol, I would treat you to coffee..."

"I'll treat you someday, Starbucks."

After hanging up the phone, the writer's expression was a little hesitant.

There was an old lady walking across the road, faltering.

The writer's Santana ran straight into it like a mad dog that couldn't turn a corner.

He suddenly came back to his senses, and stepped on the brakes to the bottom--"squeak" sounded strangely, and Santana stopped the car a few inches away from the old lady.

The old lady's ears seemed to be deaf, and she walked over slowly without turning her head.

(End of this chapter)