Forgotten Photo Studio

Chapter 35 The Tomb Keeper Chen Dingkun
That was a protective charm that Chen Zhiwei gave him before he left!

The yellow paper talisman suddenly ignited with a faint red light, as if blocking out the childish voice that was drilling straight into the brain.

Xu Yan's mind jolted, and cold sweat broke out instantly. He took a deep breath, grasping at the last shred of clarity.

"Wake up!"

He hissed, grabbed A Zhe's arm with his left hand, his nails almost digging into his flesh, and pulled hard.

The pain jolted Ah Zhe awake, his face ashen, and he staggered backward, exclaiming, "Damn! I almost fell for it!"

It cannot approach the water, for that is its territory.

But their retreat was blocked by an invisible, chilling aura, as if countless unseen, damp, cold little hands were reaching out from the pipe walls behind them, pushing them forward.

In the center of the pool, the raincoat began to slowly rotate again, this time facing Xu Yan.

The darkness inside the hood seemed to "focus" on him.

"Brother...don't you like playing with me?"

The voice became aggrieved, yet grew increasingly chilling.

An invisible force suddenly grabbed Xu Yan, not his body, but his soul.

It was as if they wanted to forcibly peel him out of his shell and drag him into that cold, murky pool of water, to make him a playmate of a lonely soul.

The edges of his consciousness began to blur, and he was almost pulled out.

At this very moment——

The blue brand on his right palm suddenly became intensely hot, the burning sensation like a branding iron piercing his very bones.

"Well--!"

Xu Yan groaned, the cursed ghost hand in his right arm seemed to be burning and writhing in pain, the sacrificial agitation forcibly suppressed.

In a flash, he suddenly remembered that his master had once told him that there was another interpretation to "shadow locks the soul".

Almost instinctively, he abruptly raised his camera—not to the pool, but to the shadows distorted and swirling in the dim light of the glow sticks at his feet.

"Crack!"

The shutter clicked sharply in the narrow pipe.

There was no flash, but the camera was shaking so hard it was hot, like it was about to crack.

The photographic paper was ejected, its edges charred and scorched.

In the photo, a distorted and blurry mass of gray-black energy suddenly appears, forcibly peeled away from Xu Yan's shadow.

That was a part of the demonic power of the ghost hand, forcibly captured and locked by the brand and the camera.

Xu Yan's palms were burning hot, almost scalding.

He gritted his teeth and flung the ominous photograph into the center of the pool.

"Here you go! Play with this!"

The moment the photo fell into the water, the pool churned, and the childish laughter paused briefly, as if drawn in.

However, a price came with it.

Xu Yan felt a sudden emptiness in his chest, as if something extremely precious had been taken away.

The "soothing pill" in his pocket, which had always calmed his mind and resisted the tide of forgetfulness, was now rapidly dimming, as if it had been completely swallowed up.

He suddenly realized that a memory of Chen Zhiwei was rapidly peeling away.

Her words of advice when she handed him the amulet were like tattered ashes, scattered piece by piece by the wind.

"Do not--!"

Xu Yan's heart tightened suddenly; he wanted to grab on, but he couldn't grasp anything.

The photo floated lightly onto the water's surface, landing right in front of the bright yellow raincoat.

But in the center of the pool, the water boy's laughter finally stopped for a moment, his voice becoming hoarse and yearning: "Hehe... What is this?... Give it to me... Give it to me!"

The laughter grew a little more cheerful. A pale, swollen little hand, its fingernails filled with mud, suddenly emerged from the water beneath the raincoat and grabbed the photograph.

It's sizzling!

The gray-black energy in the photo, like a living thing, instantly wrapped around the small hand, trying to corrupt it.

The Water Child's power immediately retaliated, with the cold resentment and the evil curse of the Demon Hand entangled and devoured each other.

The bright yellow raincoat began to shake violently, the darkness inside the hood churning endlessly, and the laughter that emanated from it began to mingle with screams of pain and anger.

It's now!

"run!!!"

Xu Yan roared, grabbed the stunned A Zhe, ignored the feeling of being blocked behind him, and turned to rush towards a narrower side pipe that he had noticed on the way here, which was almost completely covered by rust.

The pipe entrance was low, requiring one to bend over to enter, and inside, the air was thick with the smell of rust and some kind of stale plant.

The two of them squeezed inside without hesitation and crawled forward desperately.

From the direction of the pool behind them came a teeth-grinding tearing sound and increasingly shrill and mournful cries of children, clearly indicating that the two evil creatures were engaged in a fierce battle.

They climbed for an unknown amount of time until the sounds behind them completely disappeared, leaving only their heavy breathing and the rustling of their bodies rubbing against the tube walls.

The pipe appeared to have been abandoned long ago, and it was getting drier and drier, with the silt underfoot turning into a thick, choking layer of dust.

Finally, a faint light appeared ahead, not sunlight, but some kind of dim, yellowish light source.

The two struggled to climb out of the pipe and found themselves in an extremely narrow space filled with discarded sacks and rotten wooden crates.

The light came from a dusty but still burning oil lamp in the corner.

Beside the oil lamp was a small, crude shrine, which did not enshrine gods or Buddhas, but a blurry wooden doll whose face was obscured by smoke and fire, its body wrapped with red thread and talisman paper.

Someone has been here! And it seems the lamp oil is changed regularly!

Ah Zhe, panting, saw the oil lamp doll and his expression changed. He subconsciously moved away from the shrine, his voice extremely low:
"...'Gravekeeper'... There really are such people in this world... The elders say that there are some unknown things buried down there, and there have to be some fearless living people guarding it, using evil methods to suppress them, so as to prevent... to prevent them from climbing up..."

He shivered as he spoke, glanced at the doll, and dared not say anything more.

Xu Yan sat down against the wall, but his gaze suddenly fixed on the mottled brick wall behind the shrine.

There, a line of words was deeply engraved with a sharp object:

"Chen Dingkun's soul was shattered here in the abyss, in the winter of the year Wuzi."

Chen Dingkun!
Master's name!
Winter of the year Wuzi... that was exactly ten years ago.

"Soul-Splitting Abyss?"

These four words made Xu Yan's heart skip a beat, and an ominous premonition gripped him.

Just then, Ah Zhe kicked something out of the trash in the corner—an old, cracked leather notebook.

"What...what is this thing?" Ah Zhe muttered, carefully picking it up and blowing off the dust.

Xu Yan took it; it felt heavy in his hand.

He turned the first page with trembling hands.

On the yellowed pages were several lines of sharp, fragmented handwriting, with ink of varying shades, as if the writer were in a state of extreme pain or madness:

"...Yuan...is about to awaken..."

"...There's nothing that can be done...The sins are unforgivable..."

"...flesh and blood as wedges...eternity as locks..."

The handwriting trembled violently at this point, and large blobs of ink stained the paper, as if the writer had vomited blood on it.

"Yuan... is about to wake up?" A Zhe's Adam's apple bobbed, his face turning deathly pale.

Xu Yan's pupils suddenly contracted.

So, Master... really is the gravedigger!
(End of this chapter)