"To the gallery, hurry to the gallery!!"
While guiding the other students to make way and not obstruct Mao Feiyang, he didn’t forget to direct Mao Feiyang, fearing that Mao Feiyang, chased by the Sneering Angel, would be so panicked that he would encounter misfortune.
"Thanks, buddy!" Mao Feiyang shouted, dashing away like walking a dog, still murmuring, "Old art students truly reliable..."
"Holy crap, who’s that guy who got to the hall first, baited a Sneering Angel with his body, and took it away... damn, he’s fierce!" The art student couldn’t help but marvel.
At that mont, another loud exclamation broke out, an octave higher than before.
"Xiao Mao...?!"
"Damn, didn’t he return to the classroom?!"
The speaker, coincidentally, was Yanjing Ming. Initially, when he saw so Train King running around the corridor drawing the Sneering Angel’s hatred, he intended to give a thumbs up. But when he saw it was Mao Feiyang, he was startled, his hair almost jumping off his scalp in fright.
"No, why is he here again?"
"Damn... no wonder Brother Xian told to keep an eye on him, this guy’s skilled at ghost jumping!"
Yanjing Ming’s face turned as sour as a mouthful of raw marinated sauce.
But Mao Feiyang obviously had less to consider; he didn’t even notice brushing past Yanjing Ming.
Often, it’s like this; at tis like that, Yanjing Ming is just a passerby; Mao Feiyang’s heart is only concerned with how the Sneering Angel is flying, and his eyes are only on the road to the gallery.
With the Sneering Angel serving as a kite, the "Mist Chasing Light Seeker" effect instantly enveloped Mao Feiyang. The candles in the corridor flickered at the edge of extinction, the Nocturnal species fled in panic, and so Pseudo-Human Sculptures stood rigidly without daring the slightest move, like real statues.
Mao Feiyang quickly arrived before the gallery and imdiately halted at the entrance of the corridor.
"This path... you’ve trodden." Muttered Mao Feiyang.
"Yes..."
"Alright, no need to say more." Mao Feiyang interrupted firmly, "No matter what you encountered, don’t say, I’m here for the first ti, and I have my way."
While speaking, he didn’t forget to glance back at the Sneering Angel before diving into the gallery.
Lin Yi didn’t say anything more, delving into Mao Feiyang’s perspective...
Through Mao Feiyang’s eyes, as he stepped into the gallery, he seed to enter a world shrouded in Grey Mist.
The gallery’s dim lighting, with only a few weak candle lights flickering in the corners, cast twisted and swaying shadows like phantoms hidden in the darkness, baring their fangs and claws.
The paintings hanging on the walls appeared blurry and distorted in this eerie light; despite possessing intense colors, Mao Feiyang couldn’t feel them. All colors seed swallowed by darkness, leaving only faint outlines as if nacing phantoms were ready to break free from the canvas at any mont.
The other artworks in the gallery, though static, gave Mao Feiyang a dynamic déjà vu; whether it was so half-body sculptures or full-bodied ones, they seed to stealthily watch Mao Feiyang’s every move while maintaining their static state, with so even silently adjusting into poses deliberately designed to attract attention, attempting to captivate Mao Feiyang.
The gallery’s artworks appeared completely unafraid of the Sneering Angel, seemingly ignoring its existence completely, focusing solely on attracting Mao Feiyang’s attention, unconcerned with anything else.
The air in the gallery was cold and damp, carrying the decay odor of the artworks, its age and abandonnt unknown.
Every breath Mao Feiyang took felt like a chill piercing through his nostrils into his body, instilling waves of fear in his heart.
The gallery floor seed sowhat damp too, like decaying yet uncracked wooden planks. Footfalls on it produced slight "creak creak" sounds, evoking calls and echoes from Hell.
The gallery wound like an endless maze, now almost resembling the atmosphere Lin Yi experienced when first entering, yet with an inexplicable sense of difference.
In a daze, Mao Feiyang always felt the walls on either side of the gallery silently pressing in, and the ceiling overhead appeared lower, inducing intense oppression. For so unknown reason, Lin Yi had a strange feeling that this gallery might forever trap Mao Feiyang and the Sneering Angel he brought here.
"’Binding’ them together and then sealing?" Lin Yi had such an absurd thought in his mind.
When this thought arose, he seed to hear so faint strange sounds in this oppressive atmosphere, like soone weeping softly, or so sinister creature gnashing teeth and sucking blood in the dark.
He suddenly realized a problem, Maozi had run here for hundreds of ters, why hadn’t he called the Night Watchman as the rules required?
At this mont, he suddenly heard Mao Feiyang muttering: "Strange... really strange..."
"What’s strange...?" he asked.
"Nothing," Mao Feiyang shook his head, "I’m afraid if I ask, you’ll give the answer... Our state is very dangerous, not dangerous to us, but very dangerous to ’Ti’ and ’you’..."
"That’s about it, no more ’touring’, I’m gonna call for help now..."
"Maozi seems to be looking for sothing?" Lin Yi had this suspicion. Still, Maozi interrupted, so naturally, he did not speak.
But then a thought flashed in his mind: "Right! Why didn’t I see the ’Little girl’ this ti?"
Little girl...
"Ammon’s music box"...
"Damn... Is Maozi trying to stop from saying this?" Lin Yi suddenly felt, could it be another "Moebius Ring Ti Paradox"?
If he had told Maozi earlier that he’d hear "Ammon’s music box" in the gallery and encounter a little girl, would Maozi really et her?
Or was the little girl never supposed to appear but was anchored there by him and Maozi?
Like the gash in the do...
But now... was it interrupted?
Realizing the "Moebius Ring Ti Paradox," Lin Yi couldn’t help but ponder so strange and complex issues.
However, Mao Feiyang’s cries pulled him back from this untily contemplation: "Night Watchman! Help, the Sneering Angel is chasing !"
"Night Watchman, help! The Sneering Angel is chasing !!"
His loud shouts echoed through the gallery, gradually drifting into the darkness ahead of him...
Strangely, with Mao Feiyang’s continuous cries, the once distorted and eerie gallery began to undergo a wondrous transformation.
Though still candlelit, the gallery’s dim light seed to brighten; previously weak and flickering candle stands now stabilized, emitting warm, gentle light, dispelling the chilling gloom that used to perate the air.
The twisted, distorted paintings on the walls seed magically beginning to restore to their normal forms.
The originally warped faces gradually beca peaceful, the black holes in their eyes vanished, replaced by bright, vivid eyes, the mouths returning to their natural state, and the horrified screams once seemingly bursting from the images faded away...
Reviews
All reviews (0)