The person in yellow disappeared behind the door.
With the iron gate as the center, the darkness and gloom that shrouded the world slowly receded. The pale moonlight repainted the face of the night.
Zheng Qing felt that he could finally breathe again.
He had some doubts about whether the being in yellow robes came from the starry sky, because during the brief contact with him, his head started to hurt again.
The husband once told Zheng Qing that his headache was caused by the accidental germination of the 'Seed of Order', and the germination of the seed was due to the reception of a large amount of occult knowledge. With Zheng Qing's lack of magic knowledge, he could imagine that just by contact
The only ones who spread a large amount of knowledge are the alien gods from the depths of the starry sky.
But even if he guessed that the man in yellow might not be a devil, Zheng Qing was determined not to enter that narrow door.
Perhaps inspired by the scene, he suddenly remembered a passage he had seen in a Dharma book a long time ago—actually not too long ago, in July or August last year—when he was buying Dharma books in Damingfang:
"Enter at the narrow gate. For many who enter by the wide gate and by the narrow road lead to destruction. But few find it by the narrow gate and by the narrow road, which lead to eternal life."
This passage comes from the Gospel of Matthew in the New Testament and was printed on a French book bound in Paris. At that time, Zheng Qing once secretly laughed at Serprano's younger brother, thinking that he could not enter the narrow gate with his stature.
.
Then the rude fat man turned into a wild boar demon.
The night wind blew past the corner of his robe, and the young wizard couldn't help but shudder. He subconsciously looked around. Words like "inspiration, intuition," or "whim" all describe what the wizard has not witnessed, but is related to him.
Mysterious induction of certain events.
at the moment.
In this desolate land, I suddenly thought of that passage.
Intuition told Zheng Qing that this was not a good sign.
Under the moonlight, the scenery that was originally shrouded in shadow was unobstructed. As far as the eye could see, this was a world that was completely unfamiliar to Zheng Qing. Stretching out around the huge iron gate was a desolate wilderness, covered with tiny
The long, dark withered grass looks like the blackness after a wildfire has passed, but it is full of vitality like green grass.
The grass blades rustled in the night wind, silently communicating with the jagged rocks scattered among them. In the sparse sound of wind and the rustling of grass blades, Zheng Qing faintly heard many whispers, but he always
Can't find anyone to talk to:
"When you are alone, if death is not witnessed, then you are just embarking on a long journey alone..."
"...The soul can die together with the body, or it can live alone...The pale soul wakes up again in the decayed place of the body, facing the moon, wailing every night..."
"...Between our lives, there is a dark and mysterious place that we will eventually touch. Gods hate it and ghosts hate it. Mortals retreat. Carcosa, the land where the great Hastur comes..."
"...The place where the king's tattered clothes are floating, the unheard soul song must have passed away. My voice has died, and you are about to die... Those who have not sung, your tears will dry up before they fall.
Lost Carcosa…”
"Order...does not belong to this world."
“Don’t look directly at God!!”
Those whispers blew past Zheng Qing's ears like the wind. He could only capture fragments of the words. When he tried to find the source of the sounds, he could only find a few strange-looking stones or dry and dead tree roots.
"…Carcosa…Carcosa…"
"...The Great Hastur..."
"...the ragged king..."
The whispers became more and more fragmented, and gradually, only a few key words could be heard, repeated in the night wind, echoing in the young wizard's ears.
Zheng Qing sat under a dry elder tree, rubbing his sore ankle.
He walked around this wasteland for a long time, but never found a way out. There was no trace of human activity here, no smoke, no thatched huts, no barking dogs, no roosters, no plowing, no canals, no
Fruit trees, not even the dung of wild animals, the calls of birds, and the low hum of insects.
As far as the eye could see, there were only black weeds that looked like they were burnt.
There are also those jagged and strange rocks in the grass.
Zheng Qing pulled up a clump of black grass at his feet, and a smoky smell flowed from the soil. Zheng Qing faintly heard the weed screaming in the wind.
When he lowered his head.
The weeds in his hands had turned into a cloud of black ash and fell down between his fingers. The soil was filled with smoke. After a while, the soil that had just been turned up had been flattened again, and a small, but darker-colored weed had grown on it.
Black grass.
Zheng Qing picked up a strange stone at his feet and smashed it against the elder tree like a man in a rage.
The dry elder bark fell to the ground with a splash as he smashed it.
Behind the bark, on the pale trunk, a line of dark writing was faintly revealed, which was somewhat eye-catching in the pale moonlight. Zheng Qing came closer in surprise, wanting to see it more clearly.
The next moment, he screamed and took a few steps back, almost falling to the ground.
Engraved on the pale tree trunk is an epitaph:
"××(1990**-2009**) Jiuyou College of the First University, Astronomy Class 08-1, was born in Pingyang Prefecture, China, and died in the dreamland Carcosa City. How sad!"
The name and date of birth of the tomb owner are still a little blurry, like ink stained by water on rice paper.
But Zheng Qing recognized it at a glance as his own tombstone. The clear experience, the vague description, all the clues pointed to the same conclusion.
This kind of encounter adds an air of mystery and terror to this wasteland.
Zheng Qing even began to suspect that everything he saw and heard was just his fantasy or delirium. The low night covered the gloomy landscape, and everything in the world was making threatening omens.
Are you already dead?!
No, not yet! Zheng Qing suddenly realized that he was not dead yet, but when his name on the tombstone was completely clear, that would be when he died.
This is a land full of evil and disaster. Only by leaving here can we survive.
The omen was so strong that Zheng Qing could almost hear the wizard's intuition yelling in his ears: Get out of here quickly! Hurry up!
"'You want to enter the narrow door,'" the wizard muttered, taking one last look at the pale moonlight on the horizon, and walked towards the narrow passage under the iron door: "...No, it's not you, it's me who wants to enter the narrow door.
The door is open."
"The Master said: If I don't go to hell, who will?"
"Infinite Lord...Akbar."
After praying very sincerely to all the sacred things he knew, he carefully entered the narrow door with the talisman spear he imagined.