Chapter 41

  "Wow, what kind of wood is this? It feels so smooth."

  I said to myself, feeling a sense of emotion, and couldn't help but stretch out my hands to touch the wooden stick again and again. It felt a bit dry, and there was no skin on it, like a branch that had been stripped of its bark.

  "Do you know what you're holding in your hand?"

  The fox's voice came slowly from behind, and in this night, it made people's back feel cool.

  I pretended to be brave, slowly getting up from the ground with my eyes closed, muttering: "What... what is it? Isn't it just a few dead branches? What's there to be afraid of? Could it be something else strange?"

  The fox let out a few snickering sounds, and looking at him like that, it seemed as if I had grasped some strange thing in my hand.

  I stepped away from that pile of things and walked closer to him, saying: "In the middle of the night, not resting well in the house, what did you bring me here for?"

  "Do nothing."

  He casually spat it out, took something out of his pocket, and in a moment, a beam of light shone on my face, the intense brightness stimulated me, making me blink my eyes.

  "What are you doing?"

  I raised my arm to block it from in front of my eyes, somewhat resentfully.

  "Turn around and take a look."

  The fox lifted its chin, indicating that I should turn around and take a look. A wave of doubt flashed through my mind, but what was even stronger was my curiosity - I had no idea what it was that was worth him coming out to see in the middle of the night, or what made this place so special.

  As I turned around and looked down at the pile of white bones on the ground that I had touched with my hand, my scalp suddenly felt a chill, and I stiffened my body slowly.

  I shifted my feet and turned around to face the fox, with a strong beam of light shining directly at my face. At this moment, I was too lazy to even block it.

  "What... what are those?"

  I've already had some ideas in mind, but on this third watch of the night when the gates of hell are open, I don't even have the guts to speak out my thoughts.

  My gaze was fixed on the fox-like face behind the light source, a face that looked even more sinister with the electric light shining on it. At this moment, his white teeth were gleaming coldly in the bright light, and I had to say, he was even scarier than a ghost. I decided to turn my head and stare at the pile of bones on the ground instead, which would be safer. I had stroked it so gently just now, and I figured that it must still be warm in its heart and wouldn't do anything to me.

  "The Thirteenth Generation."

  The sound of footsteps echoed behind him, and the fox slowly approached.

  I didn't dare offend the fox, so I had to turn my head with a flattering expression, looking at him with a welcoming face, hoping he would be merciful and not do anything bad to bully or take advantage of me.

  He walked in, flung the flashlight in his hand into mine, and leaned close to my ear, whispering: "Tell me, roughly how many ghosts are there around here?"

  "How many?"

  I didn't quite believe he would ask this question, so I raised my head and shone the flashlight on his face, asking: "Do you want to know how many?"

  "That's right!"

  He stroked his chin, seemingly still thinking about something.

  I looked at him with a sorrowful face and said: "You can't see the ghost either, you can't count it yourself, why do you want me to help you?"

  In the dead of night, they gather around you one by one, making you stretch out your fingers to count them one by one. If they were a bit more human-like, I'd be fine, I should dare to look. But in the dead of night, ghostly spirits with green lights all over their bodies are running around, who can bear it? It's like counting rabbits, so casually.