(three)
Following yesterday's footsteps, I went to the old editor's house again and knocked on his door. The scene inside was really scary: the old editor looked pale and opened the door tremblingly. Sitting on the sofa in the living room was his frightened wife, their faces as pale as if they had been blasted by the atomic bomb in Hiroshima.
"You're finally here! Why are you still hurting me when I'm old?" the old editor said, pulling me to the sofa with a sad face.
I asked in surprise: "What's going on?" Is it that clock! Is Zhong really at fault?
I was so frightened the night before yesterday, and my whole family seemed to be tortured last night.
"Hand prick, what kind of clock is that? It's so scary, if something happens to your sister-in-law because of the fright, I won't be done with you!" The old editor became angrier and angrier as he spoke, with saliva flying from his mouth.
"Editor, please don't be impatient or angry. Tell me what happened last night? Was it because of the clock?" I tried to keep my tone as calm as possible.
The editor looked at his wife's blank eyes, lit a cigarette and started talking.
It turned out that last night, after I left, the editor and his wife tidied up, and after eating, they went to bed. In the middle of the night, the editor couldn't hold in his urine and went to the toilet. He found Zhong in the toilet. The editor was shocked, but he thought it was his wife who moved it, so he woke his wife up. My wife was also very surprised. She clearly saw the clock in the living room before going to bed! Why did you run into the toilet as soon as you woke up? After being frightened for a while, the two of them calmed down, put the clock back in the living room, and went to the bedroom to sleep again. Around three o'clock in the evening, a loud ringing of a bell woke up the editor and his wife. The editor ran to the living room again to see what time it was. Who knew when he entered the living room, he found that the clock was missing again. At this moment the bell rang again, and the sound came from the toilet. The old editor hurriedly ran into the bedroom to wake up his wife. Unexpectedly, his wife seemed to have lost consciousness, lying quietly on the bed, motionless. The old editor also lost the courage to move the clock back to its place, got into bed, and waited for dawn in shock. The clock kept ringing throughout the night, which kept the editor awake all night. Early this morning, the old editor moved the clock to the newspaper office and hurried home without even asking for leave. His wife, however, was always in a daze, as if she had been struck by an evil spirit.
After listening to the old editor's slightly trembling frightened memories, I recalled the night I bought the clock back. From this point of view, I was relatively lucky.
"Look at the way my wife is now, it's all because of Zhong!" The old editor stroked his wife's pale cheek with his hand, and the look on his face seemed to be covering up the pain of an old man in his sixties.
I lowered my head and said nothing, thinking about the remaining questions.
"Don't be silent. What do you think my wife should do? She won't always look like this, will she?" the old editor said to me excitedly, and the gray and bald hair on his head was also trembling.
"How do I know! Go to the hospital first to see what's going on." I heard my old editor blame it on me and I got angry. I didn't want to give him this clock in the first place. If you hadn't asked me for it, I would have Throw the clock into the newspaper office.
"Go to the hospital? Can it be cured?" He kept asking me, as if I was God and my words were reassuring pills.
"Let's do it! You take your wife to the hospital, and I'll go to the place where clocks are sold to ask who originally owned this clock and if anyone has the same experience as us." I had no choice but to say to him in a commanding tone.
"We have the same experience? Did you already know that this clock is a harmful clock?" The editor caught the meaning of what I accidentally revealed.
"I…Oh! I won't say anything anymore. I'm going to go first. I'll meet you at your house at noon."
I left his house in a hurry. The air outside was much fresher and there was no disgusting sandalwood smell.
Now I can only go to the flea market to find the old man. Although I have a hundred and twenty reluctances in my heart, I have no choice but to go there.
The old man was still sitting there with his eyes closed and humming songs from the Cultural Revolution period. The feet in slippers swayed casually. His expression is very leisurely. If you look at it with your eyes, this old man doesn't care about the quality of his business. If I hadn't dealt with him before and knew that he was a money-grubbing villain, I would have been confused by his appearance.
"Old man, can I ask you something?" I called him carefully and softly.
"Huh? It's you. I thought you weren't coming!" He saw that my posture didn't change at all.
"Haha, how could it be?" It seems that I am really not suitable to talk to this kind of person.
The old man narrowed his eyes and said sinisterly: "What's the matter? You figured it out, are you willing to sell me the clock for two hundred yuan?" He lost no time in yawning.
"No, I want to ask you something. Can you tell me who you bought that clock from?" As soon as I finished speaking, I saw the old man crossed his legs again without interest and hummed a five-note tune. Incomplete tone.
Seeing the old man's unconcerned expression, I became anxious.
"Old man! I'm asking you sincerely. I'm in a hurry! Please!" I was almost begging him.
"Sincerely? Haha! This jade pendant of mine has never been sold. Do you want to buy it?" He stood up and picked up a jade pendant on the stall and said to me.
"I'll buy it. How much does it cost?" I said as I took out my wallet.
"One hundred, you are also a regular customer." The old man threw the jade pendant to me and said.
Ah! He blackmailed me into buying this shabby jade pendant, and he said so hypocritically. Are all business people so cunning?
I handed him one hundred yuan and put the jade pendant into my pocket. He took the money, looked at the sun and put it away in the drawer.
"Can you say it now?" This kind of person is simply a miser!
"Oh! If you don't tell me, I almost forgot. Please wait for me to look at the record book." The old man said and picked up an account book on the table. "Oh! I found it. The clock of the Republic of China was purchased on May 13th. One, the seller’s contact number is ########. Have you written it all down?” The old man flipped through a few pages to find it and read it to me. Money is still the magic power.
I hurriedly dialed the number with my mobile phone. After a few rings, a middle-aged man's voice asked: "Hello, who is this?"
After briefly explaining the matter to him, the other party was silent for a long time before throwing me the address and saying, "You'd better come over and talk. I didn't expect it to happen." I wanted to ask what was going on, but he had already hung up. Telephone.
I looked at the time and it was almost noon. It was not too late to get to my old editor’s house. Let’s go with him after dinner. I didn't even say hello to the old man, so I took a taxi and went to my old editor's house.
When we arrived at the editor's house, he and his wife hadn't come back yet. It seemed that his wife was seriously ill. I planned to wait for my old editor to come back, but then my phone rang. When I picked up the phone, it was my senior editor. He said that he would not go back and was eating in the hospital with his wife. Call me tonight.
I had no choice but to go to the house of the man who sold the clock.
It was already past one in the afternoon when I found his house, and the person who opened the door for me was a woman. I think it was the wife of the middle-aged man who answered the phone? But this woman looks quite young, no older than twenty-five. The woman took me to meet the man and then left. When I saw the man, I couldn't help being surprised. I never thought that the man would be a disabled amputee in a wheelchair!
The man looked to be in his forties, and his beard looked unkempt and had a sense of vicissitudes of life. I greeted him politely.
He nodded slightly and said with a serious face: "It was a bit unclear on the phone. Can you explain what happened more clearly?"
I told him the whole story clearly, and specifically mentioned that the weirdness at my house was completely different from the weirdness at my old editor's house.
After hearing this, the middle-aged man's face became even more serious. He said to me as if he had made a decision: "Throw the clock away. Nothing will happen."
"Then if someone picks it up, things will still happen, and people may die. How can you say such irresponsible words!" I heard him say such a sentence in the past two days. I was furious, and the reporter's occupational disease also appeared, and I really wanted to find out what was going on.
"Oh! Okay, let me tell you! I hope it will be helpful to your friend." After he finished speaking, he was silent for a long time and said, "Okay, I said it, but after you listen, don't pester me. I'm very worried." distressed."
I nodded and listened to him.
"To talk about it, we must first talk about the history of this clock. This clock was given to me by relatives when my grandfather's father passed away. It was passed down from my grandfather to my father and then to me for three generations. It survived the catastrophe of the Cultural Revolution. This clock is very lucky, and I also love this clock very much, especially after my father died.
"The clock has never been broken for so many years, which is one of the reasons why I love this clock. When I was thirty years old, a strange thing happened. My wife disappeared! I searched for more than a year. She was not found until the end of the Cultural Revolution. At that time, it was rumored that people who disappeared during the Cultural Revolution were usually killed by rebels. As time went by, I forgot a lot about it.
"It didn't take long for my friends to help me find a woman, and we got married a few months later. Our lives were quite harmonious, and she was very kind to me. She even took care of the son my ex-wife didn't bear for me. Here we are. After having a child, we lived happily together. But there was a car accident the year before last…"
When the man said this, he suddenly burst into tears. After a while, he continued with a trembling voice:
"The car accident not only took away her and my son's lives, but also my legs! For a moment, I didn't have the courage to accept this reality, let alone the courage to live! But –
"But my ex-wife showed up, and she was working as a nurse in the hospital. Coincidentally, the patient she was caring for was me. I asked her why she didn't go home, and she said she saw me doing a wedding when she came home. I found myself I have always loved her, and I told her that I had been looking for her for a long time. If I hadn't heard others say that she might be dead, I would have continued to look for her. After our husband and wife came into contact, she came back to me.
"After I found her, I regained the courage to live, but I didn't expect that good times would never last long. After recuperating at home for more than half a year, my step-wife's youngest sister suddenly came to my house. She asked to stay at my house for a while, and I thought I agreed out of love for my step-wife.
"She lived here for a year and often humiliated my wife behind my back. When I heard what my wife said, I had to persuade her to treat the girl as a child and not need to pay attention to her. Until one day, my wife committed suicide. I just realized the seriousness of the matter. I have nothing left, why is my life so miserable? Why?" The man started crying as he spoke. To be honest, this was the first time I saw a man cry. I understand his current mood, and only a man can understand a man's sadness.
When he had finished crying, I interrupted and asked, "But what does this have to do with the clock?"
He closed his eyes, looked out the window and said: "My wife hit the clock and died." I immediately thought of a scene: a woman hit the clock, her brain burst, the clock's chain hammer fell heavily, and the time Freeze at midnight…
"Since the death of my wife, the clock has been ringing strangely in the middle of the night. The time on the clock is normal during the day, but it gets messy after twelve o'clock. As time goes by, it remains the same. I can't stand the stimulation of time anymore. So I sold the clock. I originally thought that the clock would be like this in my home, but I didn't expect that it would be like this in other people's homes.
"I can only tell you what I know. I can't do anything else." After he finished speaking, it was time for me to leave. I said sorry to him several times and left his house in a hurry.
When I went out, I found that the woman who looked after me at the door was staring at me motionlessly, as if she wanted to devour me. My back was hairy as she stared at me, and I just wanted to get out of here quickly.
(one)
"when!"
The powerful bell rang twelve times, and a trace of vibration echoed in the air. I woke up with a start, looked at the unfinished novel manuscript on the computer monitor, and shook my head helplessly. It seems that I have to rush to finish the manuscript again.
In the corner of the room is an antique clock that I bought with royalties this morning. Fortunately, the bell woke me up, otherwise my editor would definitely scold me tomorrow. I went to the bathroom and washed my face with cold water. In the mirror, my cheeks were a little sunken, and my cheekbones were slightly exposed. I remember my girlfriend said that when I wore my eyes, I felt like a middle-aged man. I combed my hair and didn't bother to care about the uneven distribution of youth beans on my face.
Back in the bedroom, the dim wall lamp dimmed strangely and then regained a little light. I looked at everything in the house with vigilance, including the computer, bed, wardrobe, bookshelf, air conditioner and the desk clock I just bought home. It's very common, probably because there was insufficient power, so it was darkened for a while!
I smiled. Recently, the old editor of the newspaper insisted that I serialize ghost stories on the side page, which made me look for excitement and a bit of horror in the dead of night.
These days, I replaced the writing desk in the house with a dark maroon antique table, replaced the soft Simmons bed with a wooden bed that matched the color of the table, removed the bright fluorescent lamps, and hung dark blue melancholy wall lamps. I also added an antique desk clock, all to make myself feel like I’m in a horror novel I’m writing.
Stories are always less rhythmic than reality, but stories are more exciting than life. I sat down, and the crisp sound of keyboard tapping sounded in the room.
When inspiration comes, you can't stop it. What's more, after writing novels for so many years, I can still write without inspiration. When I wrote that the hero and heroine in the story were hugging each other and hiding in a haystack, I couldn't think of any way to continue the story.
well! Even when inspiration is lost, you can’t keep it. Could it be that I told the inspiration to leave after the story is finished?
I opened the dark blue curtains, everything was silent under the night, and meteors appeared from time to time in the starry sky. I lit a cigarette and watched my thoughts fly across the starry sky, looking for inspiration.
Countless meteorites flew quickly around me, and none of them touched me, but I still twisted my waist and hips involuntarily, for fear that the meteorites without eyes would hit me.
After flying for a long time, my thoughts were tired, but I couldn't find any inspiration. I sighed angrily, and my thoughts fell from the atmosphere.
The long ash was blown away by a gentle gust of wind. With a prank all over my face, I laughed at myself and threw away the cigarette holder.
"when!"
The clock rang again, and the whole room roared with its rich sound.
I listened quietly, inspired! I caught it! With great excitement, I sat down at the keyboard again and continued writing along with my inspiration.
The bell was still ringing, but I didn't pay attention and kept writing the story.
"boom……"
With a fierce sound, the hammer in the clock fell down. After a long roar, everything returned to calm. I cursed in my mind, what a bullshit antique! It broke when I bought it!
It made me unable to write the story anymore. I took a sip of cold tea, stood up, walked to the clock, and checked the hammer chain that fell from the clock.
I took the chain hammer in my hand, yo! It’s quite heavy! Then I looked at the top chain and found a hole. It turned out that the chain had come off! I carefully fastened the chain and pressed it hard, and it was ready.
Just such a broken clock cost me nearly a thousand dollars! If it breaks, I have to ask the old man at the antique market to pay me back!
After calming down the irritation just now, I gradually brought my thoughts back to the story and continued the story within the story.
"when!"
The broken bell rang again. What happened? Didn’t the clock strike just now? Why are you knocking again? I walked over and looked at the time on the clock, 12:00! No way! It was twelve o'clock when I woke up, why is it still twelve o'clock now? Oops! This clock must be broken! I have to return it tomorrow!
My thoughts are also in a mess, and I want to calm down but I can't. I looked at the time on my computer and it said 2:30. It looks like I won't be able to finish this story tonight. I accidentally turned my face away, surprised! Surprised at that clock!
The time on the clock suddenly became 2:30! I suspected that my eyes were blurry, so after rubbing them hard, I looked at the clock again…
When I saw it, I stared at it for five minutes without blinking.
The seconds on the clock kept ticking, but after going around and around in circles, the clock and minutes stopped at 2:30 and did not move!
I, who have always been bold, couldn't help but tremble, my vest felt cold, and I closed my eyes after sweating for a while. At this time, inspiration came into my head like a spring. I took a deep breath and ignored this strange clock! I turned around, looked at the Black Tooth Ghost on the monitor seriously, and started writing a story.
"when!"
A bell rang loudly next to my ears, which made my eardrums hurt, and I didn't dare to look back at the clock. Trembling hands were typing on the keyboard, writing stories.
Probably due to psychological effects, I felt that everything in this room was full of weirdness. The faint blue light from the dark wall lamp would light up and darken for a while. The strong wind outside the window also blew the curtains from time to time. The more this happened, the more inspiration kept flying in my mind. The terrifying atmosphere tortured my nerves like an inspiration generator, and the most terrifying desk clock made a roar every time like a market.
At this time, I just think about dawn soon, and it will be fine as soon as dawn comes. As soon as it gets light, I will return this broken clock, and I will just buy an alarm clock and be an ordinary reporter.
Time is also against me. I have written the story for several K, but the time is still hovering around 3:00. The time on my computer is always accurate, and even though the clock is buzzing, I don’t look back at it. It’s really because I’m afraid.
The hero in the story hugs the heroine's body and kneels under the boulder in the sacred tree, hoping that the sacred tree will save her. I tried my best to describe the hero's wounded heart in a touching way, and even I was indulged in heavy emotional problems.
"when!"
I wasn't too surprised when the bell rang. It rang no less than twenty times in one night. But this time the bell rang once and then rang continuously and never stopped.
The bedroom echoed with the echo of "dang…dang…", one sound after another, one sound longer than one, and the rhythm of the clock became faster and faster.
I just hoped that the neighbors would wake up and come and call me so I could relax for a while. The roar of the clock seemed to be heard only by me, and no neighbors were woken up. Everything is peaceful outside the window, they must be in a dream, right?
Although inspiration kept coming to my mind, the constant roar of the clock made me unable to calm down and write. The sad male protagonist in the story has not yet asked Shenmu to save his beloved woman.
I gritted my teeth and stared at the clock angrily. This was a huge determination on my part!
The hammer of the clock swayed from side to side, hitting the wall of the clock, and the noisy roar echoed. My heart skipped a beat, so I walked over and pulled the hammer hard. The hammer immediately fell off as soon as the force was applied. The roar disappeared, as if disappearing into the valley, and I took a breath. The cold sweat on my face dripped to the ground. I showed a long-lost smile and walked to the bathroom. I was a little too nervous just now.
The towel did not leave any traces of sweat on my face. I looked in the mirror and found that my face in the mirror was much paler than it was at 12:00. Go to the kitchen, grab a cup of coffee, and relax. As I was about to leave the bathroom, I heard a voice that made my whole body tremble violently——
"when!"
The familiar yet frightening voice reached my ears again. impossible! I'm going crazy! I obviously broke the chain of the hammer, how could it still ring?
I don’t dare to think about it anymore, I know that the more I think about it, the scarier it will become. I couldn't imagine closing the bathroom door and locking it tightly. I felt like with every sound my nerves were going to snap a little bit. I looked at the wall mirror, and the look in my eyes was so fearful, and the tender flesh on my cheeks trembled with my chattering teeth.
I grabbed a handful of long hair on my head and wanted to tie it all up and twist it into a braid so that they would not sway around and disturb my sight.
The bells in the bedroom were ringing louder and faster each time, which made my heart beat much faster. I stared at the mirror crazily, mirror!
Mirror!
I was even more shocked. There was actually me in the mirror, hugging the clock and looking at me with a smile!
"Ah…" I couldn't control my mood and fainted.
(two)
The next day, when I woke up, I found myself lying in bed, and the phone kept ringing. I was so nervous that I jumped. After calming down, I got up and answered the phone.
"Pricked hand! You finally woke up! Do you know how many times I called you!…" It was the editor's unique voice that sounded like a toothless old woman.
After he finished complaining, I said to him: "I have almost finished writing the story. Last night was just to catch up on the manuscript…"
The old editor's voice immediately changed: "Oh! Thank you for your hard work. Have you sent the manuscript to the newspaper's mailbox? The printing and typesetting will be done this afternoon!"
"Not yet. Hang up the phone. I'll send it right away."
After hanging up the phone, I got up. Unexpectedly, I saw the clock. The chain hammer inside the clock was hanging perfectly. There are no traces of last night. Could it be that last night was just a dream? When I thought about it, I felt much more relaxed. I turned on the computer and Windows 2000 started reading the disk in a lengthy manner. I will uninstall Windows 2000 tomorrow and reinstall Windows 98. Entering WPS2000, I checked the story I wrote last night. After reading it, I suddenly had a strange thought in my mind. If last night was a dream, why would there be so many stories? Totally consistent with what happened last night!
I remembered what my old editor said, and quickly dialed the number and put the story into the newspaper's email box.
After putting it in, I picked up the clock and left the house without even bothering to wash my face or brush my teeth. When I came to the flea market where I bought the clock yesterday, the old man selling the clock asked me strangely when he saw me carrying the clock back.
I angrily told him everything that happened last night. After hearing this, he laughed and said to me: "You can't believe what you say! There's no way you can back off!"
Indeed, everything that happened last night was like a dream, no one would believe it. But I didn't dare to carry the clock home anymore, so I asked the old man: "Even if I don't want the clock anymore, how much do you think it would cost to sell it to you?"
The old man said on his forehead: "These are human words, one price…" The old man stretched out two fingers.
"How much? It can't be two hundred, right?" I looked at the old man with wide eyes.
"That's right! It's only two hundred! It's up to you whether to sell it or not!" The old man sat back on his chair, crossed his legs, shook his head and hummed songs from the Cultural Revolution period.
"Why are you such a shady old man! I spent more than a thousand yuan, but only two hundred yuan will be refunded to you! Who will dare to buy anything from you in the future!" You know I spent more than a thousand yuan! Why don’t I feel bad when I sell it to him for two hundred yuan? KAO!
"It's up to you whether to sell it or not!" The old man closed his eyes and hummed more vigorously, as if he was mocking me.
"I won't sell it! Humph!" I would rather destroy the clock than do such a cowardly thing. Without saying a word, I picked up the clock and took it to the taxi to go to the newspaper office.
As soon as I entered the door of the newspaper office, I bumped into the old editor. The old editor pushed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He looked up and saw that it was me. He narrowed his eyes and said, "I was just going to find you!"
My heart skipped a beat, and I put down the clock solemnly and asked, "What's wrong? Didn't I finish the story about me burning the midnight oil last night?" Don't ask me to rewrite it. It's not easy to get the royalties.
The old editor didn't answer my words. He looked at the clock and said, "What for? Did you give it to me?"
"You like it? Then I'll give it to you!" I was worried that I couldn't give this ghost clock away!
The old editor patted me on the shoulder and said with a smile: "I have good news for you. A publisher wants to publish the ghost story you wrote and is urging you to finish it!"
Ah! Now that I have published this book, not to mention the fame that I gained from it, the royalties alone are enough for me to travel abroad. "Old editor! Don't lie to me!"
"I'm not lying to you! Do you think I look like a liar?" The old editor let go of his hand on my shoulder, handed me a cigarette and continued: "Oh! One thing for you, please help me deliver the clock. Let’s go to my house! Haha! Old people can’t compete with you young people!” Then he led me to his house.
When I entered his house, the strong smell of sandalwood in the room made me sniffle several times. I don’t know why, but I have been allergic to this smell since I was a child.
"Thank you, just leave it here. This clock is quite expensive, isn't it?" The old editor couldn't put it down and rubbed the mahogany shell of the clock, with an expression like that of an old pervert meeting a beautiful woman.
"It's not expensive, it's only a thousand and a half." I deliberately said it calmly, but in fact, I hated people who took advantage of me.
"Ouch! It's a good thing! It's a prick on your hand. You can stay for dinner tonight! Ask your sister-in-law to patch it up for you. Look at your kid, who has been working hard to finish the manuscript these days, and his face has become as thin as a monkey!" When the old editor heard this, It’s still worth some money, my tone has changed, my face is thin? Ah! I’ve lost weight for several months, and you’ve been forcing me to finish the manuscript all day long!
"It's better not to disturb me. My sister-in-law hasn't gotten off work yet, right?" I was too lazy to stay in his room. The smell of sandalwood made me fascinated.
"Don't worry, she'll be back soon." He pulled me to sit down and ran to make a cup of light tea. "Have tea, Yuexi Xiaohua."
"Why are you so polite? I really have to go back. I have to catch up on the manuscript tonight." I saw that he was pretending to be polite, so I had to pretend to decline.
"No! You must stay for dinner today. I'll water the flowers. You sit down for a while!" The old editor happily went to the balcony to water the flowers.
I looked around the room, and it looked like a Buddhist temple. Directly in front of me is a tribute platform, with a Guanyin Bodhisattva standing in the middle. The sandalwood incense contained in the incense burner in front of Guanyin is rising faintly. The entire wall was yellowed by smoke.
After the editor finished watering the flowers, his wife came back. When he saw me, he smiled and said, "Shouzha is here today. Are you going to report to the old editor?" He went to the bedroom without waiting for me to say anything. Ah! Why are everyone in his family so fake!
Just hold your nose and stay for a while. I will go back after finishing the meal.
During the meal, the editor kept bringing me wine and said he would give me a tonic, but I didn’t see any meat in the meal.
After finishing the meal, I quickly left his house as they kept saying "walk slowly…". It was pitch dark, and I was thinking about how to write the story on the way back.
When I got home, I found that the room seemed particularly warm without a clock. The dim blue wall lamp was also particularly enchanting at this time. I turned on the computer and let my thoughts fly in the space of the story with the help of alcohol.
As I wrote, I fell asleep.
Early the next morning, I put the story I wrote last night into the newspaper office's gas tank and walked leisurely to the newspaper office. When I just sat down at my desk, I suddenly noticed the clock. It was placed neatly in the corner of the room in front of me!
I was shocked and left the office before I could sit still. I wanted to find my old editor , Black Tooth Ghost , and ask what was going on! I've been looking for it for a long time, but haven't found it yet.
Colleagues said that the editor was acting very strange today. After delivering the clock to my office, he said a few words and then left. He looked quite flustered.
Could it be that Zhong is causing trouble again? If not, go to the old editor’s house and have a look.