Feng Bujue reached the edge of the well, but he did not get too close. He lowered his body and tried to use a slanted angle to look ahead. He did not poke his head out to look into the well.
He remembered the song word for word. "Don't look at him, or you'll be buried with him." That could not have been a more obvious hint. Feng Bujue had no doubt that if he looked at the thing at the bottom of the well, he would trigger a death flag … He did not want to be dragged down by some kind of force and have his Life Points drop to zero.
"You there …" Feng Bujue raised his voice to ask, "How about I go get a rope to throw down for you?"
Several seconds later, the voice said, "I … can't climb up … alone …"
When Feng Bujue heard that, he felt like he had been enlightened. He asked tentatively, "Then … how about I carry you up?"
The voice replied curtly, "Okay …"
Feng Bujue asked directly, "I'm not familiar with this school. Do you know where I can find a rope?" He wanted to see what kind of hint he would get from this mission.
But this time, the voice did not answer. It only repeated, "Save … me …"
Therefore, Feng Bujue said, "Wait for me. I'll be back after I find the rope."
The voice did not say anything and continued to call for help.
Feng Bujue was actually curious. What would happen if he did not return? But on second thought, even if the person at the bottom of the well did not crawl out to deal with him, he would eventually return to complete the mission.
Leaving the well, Feng Bujue jogged toward the sports equipment room. He had wanted to go there to loot when he passed by earlier. Now, he returned to the room with ease. With a wave of the wrench, he smashed the lock on the door and started to rummage through the cupboards and boxes.
Soon, he found a thick rope that was coiled together. It was probably used for tug-of-war. After testing its tensile strength and confirming that it was fine, Feng Bujue coiled the rope up, shoved it into his backpack, and returned to the old well.
When he approached the old well, the cries for help from the bottom of the well came again. Feng Bujue pretended that he did not hear it. He walked past it and found a tree with the thickest trunk. He tied the rope to it and tied a tight knot. Then, he walked to the well and tossed the other end of the rope down. He estimated that the well was at most ten meters deep, possibly only six or seven meters deep. The rope would definitely be enough.
Now, the most troublesome problem was the phone. Regardless of whether he went down or up, he had to use his hands. He could not carry the phone in his mouth … Furthermore, even if he did, he would not be able to pick it up when it rang. If there was an accident and the phone fell down the well, then he would be hunted to death.
Looking at the time, there were still seven minutes until the next call. Feng Bujue felt like there was no problem with the time. The person calling for help at the bottom of the well was probably the boy who had appeared in the death scene earlier. With his size, even the stronger people of his age would have been able to pick him up, so he should be even lighter after turning into a ghost.
After Feng Bujue made up his mind, he stopped hesitating. He placed the phone on the ground and grabbed the rope. Facing the tree and away from the mouth of the well, he sat down on the edge of the well and stretched his two legs into it. Then, with his feet on the wall of the well, he held the rope with both hands and moved down as fast as he could. From the beginning to the end, he never once looked down. He just kept his back to the thing that was most likely a ghost.
"Look up at the sky … The moon is smiling …" After Feng Bujue entered the old well, he maintained the posture of facing away from the bottom. He lifted his head up to look at the sky, and without realizing it, he started to hum. Then he stopped and mumbled to himself, "F * ck … I accidentally sang this brainwashing melody … Thankfully, there's no one around. This is so embarrassing …"
After reaching the bottom of the well, Feng Bujue's feet landed on the soft soil. He leaned against the wall and did not turn around. He only showed the ghost his back. "Where are you? I'll carry you …"
Before he finished, two bloody arms reached out from both sides of Feng Bujue's head and circled around his neck. At the same time, he felt 'half' of a person press against his back. Feng Bujue was sure that even if a female player came down from the well, she would be able to carry this ghost because the ghost was very light, or rather … it did not have a complete set of limbs.
"Hmm …" Feng Bujue hesitated. Out of habit, he wanted to complain, but the words were already on the tip of his tongue. But after some thought, he realized that it was not right. In this situation, if he pointed out some of the features that were obviously different from normal humans, it might lead to a bad development. For example, "Why didn't you climb up yourself when you were so nimble?", "Why is the skin on your arm so rotten?", "Why do I feel like there's nothing below your waist?", "Is water flowing out of your abdominal cavity?" and so on were all forbidden words.
At the end of many ghost stories, many protagonists would say to someone who looked like a human, "I just ran into a ghost, what did it look like?" Then they would get the same response, "Did it look like this?" Then, they would be killed.
Feng Bujue did not want to take that kind of risk. His neck was still in the ghost's grasp. If the ghost suddenly realized that he was really a ghost, then it would be a death flag, so he could not bring that up.
"Hold on tight, I'm going to climb up." Feng Bujue ignored the strong hints from the smell and sound. He also ignored the two bloody arms under his chin. After a simple greeting, he climbed up with the ghost on his back.
When he went down the well earlier, he did not look down at all. It felt like he was walking backward, but when he went up, he was walking in the direction that his eyes were looking, so he climbed very fast. The thing on his back was not that heavy, and it was not that big of a burden.
It only took him four minutes to climb up and down the old well. Feng Bujue stood outside the well to catch his breath, but he still did not dare let his guard down. He did not hurry to pick up the phone but took out the wrench again. He said to the thing on his back, "We're out. You can go home now."
The voice came from the back of Feng Bujue's neck, and it was like a chilling wind caressing the back of his neck. "Go … home …"
The next few seconds were suffocatingly quiet.
"Thank you …" That was the ghost's last reply.
When Feng Bujue heard that, the bone-chilling chill around him disappeared, and the feeling of carrying something on his back disappeared as well. Then, he sighed in relief and turned his head around.
Under the silver moonlight, the old well had changed. The mouth of the well was not open but was sealed by a cement board. The thick rope in Feng Bujue's hand was still tied to the tree, but the other end that he had tossed into the well was now piled up beside the well.
Perhaps Feng Bujue had not entered this well, or perhaps he had gone … to another place. And it was from that place that he had saved the boy.
…
The last paragraph of the newspaper clipping in Passing Rain's hand read:
Ten years of Pingcheng, autumn.
A student's parents invited a Yin Yang master to perform a ritual. When he left, the Yin Yang master claimed that he had already injured the ghost, but his power was not enough to turn the ghost into a Buddha.
The writer asked again, but the Yin Yang master only said, "Do you want me to go 'there' to carry him out?" and left angrily.
After that, the mouth of the well was resealed with cement, and it had not changed since.
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