Mo Xiaoji continued running without giving up. She was even too lazy to move against the increasingly bold hands around her neck. They were slowly tightening, yet not immediately killing her, trying to torment her, make her afraid, make her submit, make her wish for death.
Breathing heavily, when the sky was completely dark, Mo Xiaoji still hadn’t seen the temple the young man mentioned. She began to feel desperate, seemingly seeing death slowly approaching her, with no ability to resist.
The stairs were thrown behind Meng Xiaoji step by step, and as the door drew closer and closer to her, these strange stairs remained unchanged, making Meng Xiaoji think her previous wild thoughts were just imagination.
Meng Xiaoji couldn’t help but look back at the stairs she had walked on. When she looked back, she was so scared she could barely stand.
Behind her was pitch black, with no stairs at all – the one she was standing on was the last one.
Trembling, Meng Xiaoji looked back at the golden door near her, which meant she hadn’t stepped back to the first stair but had indeed walked up many stairs. So how did those stairs suddenly disappear?
If you were in this situation, would you faint? Or be scared silly?
Meng Xiaoji opened her mouth wide: “Wah wah wah… wah wah wah…” crying earth-shatteringly.
Who had she offended that the world’s most terrifying story was playing out just for her? She hadn’t bought a ticket, she didn’t want to watch these free movies, she didn’t want to be scared silly, she didn’t want to go crazy…
During Meng Xiaoji’s high-pitched crying, the strange stairs twisted and jumped irritably, thinking this weirdness would make her stop crying. But to its surprise, Meng Xiaoji’s cries grew even louder, more thunderous than the sky’s thunder.
The result was that Meng Xiaoji was forcefully thrown against the door, breaking open the golden door – saving her the trouble of knocking.
Meng Xiaoji immediately stopped her tears, grabbing the door ring and cursing: “You damned stairs, how dare you play with me? Tomorrow, I’ll chop you into eight pieces and ensure you never rest in peace.”
The stairs writhed in anger, shaking.
Meng Xiaoji continued cursing, thinking the stairs could only run wild in their own small territory. Now she was inside the door and wasn’t afraid anymore.
Just as Meng Xiaoji was feeling proud, the stairs below curled up like a tail and rushed towards her like the wind.
Meng Xiaoji’s face changed color, wishing she could swallow her tongue to prevent it from speaking recklessly. Now she had completely offended this perverted staircase.
“Enough, Mojian,” a clear voice rang out at this critical moment.
A handsome young monk in a blue cloth robe walked out of the temple, and the stairs immediately returned to their original state upon hearing his voice.
Meng Xiaoji was drenched in cold sweat and breathing heavily.
The smiling young monk looked at the panicked Meng Xiaoji: “Donor, you are the first person to make Mojian angry, and the first person Mojian has actively brought up. You and Mojian are truly destined.”
“Me and it, this pervert…” Meng Xiaoji pointed at the stairs with disgust, but stopped mid-sentence, deciding she would never speak ill of anyone again.
That pervert had actually turned into a black giant snake.
Meng Xiaoji immediately changed her expression, looking at the black snake with a flattering face. Everyone knew she was most afraid of snakes.
The black snake wasn’t fooled by her sudden change of attitude, flicking its tongue and swaying its huge triangular head menacingly.
“What a handsome snake… such a handsome snake…” Meng Xiaoji clapped with a forced smile.
The young monk just smiled, watching Meng Xiaoji’s performance and the snake approaching her.
Meng Xiaoji could no longer even force a smile, looking at the monk with pleading eyes, but he remained indifferent to her desperate gaze.
You are a first person to make Mojian feel shy, and also the one who made Mojian involuntarily turn back into snake form in a thousand years. No wonder that person would also…
The young monk looked at Mo Xiaoji with a somewhat strange gaze.
Mo Xiaoji now hated when people looked at her this way the most, as it never boded well.
“Donor, please come in! I believe you are tired after a night of commotion and should rest.” The young monk let Mo Xiaoji enter the temple gate and then closed the door firmly.
Ghost Monk
Mo Xiaoji followed the young monk, her teeth itching with anger, having seen bad people but never someone so heartless.
Mo Xiaoji made a face, stretched out her hand, and made a few threatening gestures towards the young monk, wanting to kill… kill… kill… Mo Xiaoji truly wanted to kill herself if death could solve the problem.
Now she missed that black giant snake, though it was fierce and terrifying, constantly tormenting her and smelling terrible, it was still better than this young monk.
Mo Xiaoji really wanted to cry out loud and run away.
It seemed like she should have chopped off her own hand. Why was her mouth and hand so quick? Then her already fragile nerves wouldn’t be constantly tested.
Mo Xiaoji watched her hand pass through the young monk’s blue-green robe without any obstruction, seeing the monk’s robe turn to nothingness between her fingers.
Then Mo Xiaoji quickly inserted her hand into half of the young monk’s body, watching her fingers freely swim inside his body.
“Ghost… ghost…” Mo Xiaoji’s eyes went wide with terror, but she was afraid the monk would hear her, so she kept repeating the terrifying word softly.
If she had to choose again, would she face the monster women of the Prince’s mansion, those weird hands, that perverted giant snake, or this ghost monk?
She, Mo Xiaoji, didn’t want to choose any of them. Wasn’t there an option that wasn’t so strange, that wouldn’t torture her nerves, that wouldn’t make her want to cry?
Mo Xiaoji felt her life was more bitter than bitter gourd.
The young monk, perhaps sensing her strangeness, turned back and gave her a brilliant smile: “Donor, if I were you, I wouldn’t care, wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t look. Just be more concerned about whether your blood is still in your veins and your flesh is still on your body.”
This sentence was enough to keep Mo Xiaoji stunned for half a day.
Mo Xiaoji forced a dry laugh: “Hehe… hehe… I’m good, I’m obedient.”
Then the poor Mo Xiaoji could only be well-behaved, honestly following the young monk, not daring to make any moves. What moves could she make? Would she dare? Heaven was cruel to her. Since arriving in this ghostly place, she had never seen a normal person. She now suspected she might be a ghost herself.
Everything was eerie, and Mo Xiaoji’s heart was once again filled with panic.
When Mo Xiaoji turned around, she once again felt someone’s gaze on her back.
Mo Xiaoji did not look back again. Everything was predestined; let what was meant to come, come! Damn it, what was there for her, Mo Xiaoji, to be afraid of now?
Turning past the Bodhisattva’s vehicle was a door leading to the back.
Mo Xiaoji followed the young monk out the door and immediately smelled the fragrance of flowers. Her eyes were met with a vibrant array of flowers – red, yellow, purple, and every other color.
Mo Xiaoji had seen many temples, but she had never seen a temple that grew flowers.
And a monk with such a hobby, not even a nun.
These flowers were not randomly planted. If you looked long enough, you would discover their main purpose was to highlight the small, somewhat withered grass in the center.
Just about the height of a chopstick, with small, emerald green branches and leaves, sparsely topped with three or four leaves. Even those few leaves were drooping dejectedly on the ground, and the small yellow stamen on top was tilting its head, lifeless.
