However, I soon discovered that this was not the case...

Because the puppet on the bed is actually dead.

The old man lifted the quilt and saw that the little boy's hands and feet had turned into dry branches, and gray-brown bark had replaced most of his skin. Only the upper part of his abdomen still barely retained his human appearance.

This process is called "withering", which means the death of the puppet.

Is this dead?

I was a little surprised when I heard it.

He clearly remembered that he had not penetrated the little boy's heart and would not have killed him. Why did he suddenly wither?

But he suddenly understood that this scene was not the aftermath of his injury to the child, but something that had happened in reality.

It always remained in the old man's memory and left a deep impression. What happened in the cage was somewhat similar to the past, so this scene jumped out.

This is not an illusion, but a past event.

The little boy on the bed had his eyes closed, nestled in the quilt, lifeless. The rough bark was still spreading slowly, like blurred ink, but the skin was getting less and less.

After a while, traces of withering spread to the chest.

The marks on his heart glowed white, like rotten spots on branches, and were still unclear.

When I heard it, I stared at the mark and frowned slightly.

Suddenly he heard someone speaking in a deep voice and asking him: "Why are you so dazed?"

He suddenly came to his senses and turned around to see Xie Wen walking over.

The space inside the mirror is very strange. It corresponds to the space outside the mirror. There is also a desk and a window sill, but they are all blurry, like a layer of white fog.

Xie Wen stood in the fog leaning on his desk.

He still had in his hand the branch he broke off when he entered the cage. He couldn't throw it away for the time being. He kept turning it around, like a lazy man paddling.

"Why are you here?" Wen Shi asked. The voice in the mirror was also very soft, and it would not be heard outside unless it was raised a little louder.

"I can't come?" Xie Wen didn't even look surprised. He returned to his usual expression in the next second: "Everything has a first-come, first-served basis. How about we figure out who gets the mirror first?"

"..."

How old are you? Who is trying to gain territory with you?

When I heard this, I ignored him, glanced at him and then looked away.

After a while, he suddenly said: "Do you know withering?"

"Huh?" Xie Wen straightened up and walked over, glanced at the little boy on the bed, and instantly understood, "Oh, of course I know."

When he heard it, he looked at him suspiciously.

"What's your expression? I shouldn't know?" Xie asked.

"no."

You should know, but you shouldn't have this expression.

Normal puppets "wither" in an instant. One second they were still alive, and the next second they fell to the ground and turned into dead branches and white cotton threads.

Such slow decay means that the person who makes this puppet is of extremely high level, so high that it is rare and rare in the world.

Not even ordinary people, let alone ordinary people, have ever seen such a puppet, especially the judges of later generations. At first glance, ordinary people would not realize that this is a "withering" process, but would think that it is a small person.

Something else was wrong with the boy.

So it was strange that Xie asked in a calm tone and answered so quickly.

However, he quickly understood Wen Shi's doubts and explained: "The Zhang family has a lot of books. For someone like me, who is a half-learner, I have to read more about things that I can't see in real life. In order to avoid being embarrassed by being ignorant -"

Xie Wenxiao said: "I care about face, especially in front of younger people."

When hearing: "..."

If this comes from the mouth of an old man, you can still listen to it.

Xie Wen looked like he was only twenty-eight or nine years old. In terms of appearance alone, he was two or three years older than when he heard about it. It was a bit unfair to say that.

not to mention……

Do you know how old I am?

When I heard it, my face was expressionless, and I thought I knew you were the one crying.

***

The old man couldn't hear the human voice in the mirror, and his only thought was on the puppet.

He reached out and combed the little boy's hair, sat in silence for a while, then picked up the bowl of incense ash, pinched a handful with his fingers, and smeared it on the little boy's withered hands and feet.

He applied a thick layer on the palms of his hands, the soles of his feet, and his navel, and dug a little with his index finger. Then, like a dragonfly, he touched the corner of the little boy's right eye, the tip of his nose, and finally his left heart. The three points just connected into a line.

When I saw this, I was filled with surprise.

Because he understood the old man's actions - this was not a simple native method of saving people, this was a spiritual salvation.

It is to forcibly peel off a little bit of one's own spiritual form, lead it into the puppet's body, and extend the puppet's life. This is a method in puppetry, but almost no one knows how to use it.

First of all, puppets that can last for a long time "wither" slowly. Based on this alone, most people are destined to have no use at all.

Secondly, even if you really encounter such a puppet, no one would do it. After all, if the puppet disappears, you can create a new one, but people can't.

This generally recognized "useless" technique had actually been abandoned long ago. I only knew a little about it when I heard about it, and told my subsequent disciples as casual conversation.

Where did this old man know about it? Did he find it by flipping through a book like Xie Wen did?

The more I smelled it, the more I felt something was wrong...

The old man was still busy minding his own business. He took out a small black box from the bedside table. Inside the box was a row of carved wooden knives of different sizes.

He picked one of them, lowered his head and made a slit on his index finger.

Suddenly there was a soft gasp from the gap in the closet. It was probably because Xia Qiao couldn't bear it when he saw the old man cutting his hands.

The blood instantly condensed into beads and slid down his fingers. The old man quickly moved to the little boy and dropped a drop on the corner of his right eye, the tip of his nose, and the left heart.

Then...his index finger hung on the little boy's lips.

This is the last step in the soul-transferring process, which involves letting the soul-transferring person's blood enter the puppet's mouth.

If you swallow it, the puppet will open its eyes again. If you cannot swallow it, all your efforts will be wasted, and the lost spiritual phase will not come back.

The old man did not hesitate, he squeezed his fingers, and the first drop of blood fell into the little boy's mouth.

The bright red color quickly seeped into the gap between his lips, and the next second, the little boy suddenly twitched.

The old man's body became a little straighter, and he could see that he was expecting and nervous.

But Wen Shi in the mirror knew that this trick would not succeed.

Because the person who made this puppet was too strong. In comparison, the old man was just an ordinary puppet master. At best, he was considered the best among ordinary puppet masters.

There is a huge disparity between the two, and there is no concern or implication. The old man's spiritual appearance and blood will have little effect on this puppet, and he cannot be saved.

Sure enough, the little boy did not swallow the mouthful of blood, nor did he open his eyes. Instead, he struggled fiercely, like an evil ghost that could not be suppressed.

The old man sighed.

With just one drop of blood, he became older than before, and his fingers became even more withered and thin.

"Does it hurt? Bear with it, bear with it." The old man's voice was slow and gentle. He held the little boy's hand and comforted him.

After a long time, the little boy stopped, still looking dead.

The old man sat for a while, as if he had walked a long way and needed to take a breath.

After a moment, he reached out his hand again and dropped a second drop of blood on the little boy's lips.

The little boy still didn't swallow, and struggled violently again. His withered fingers barely brushed against the old man's scalp several times. If he went a little slower, he could drive the nails in along the scalp, but the old man still coaxed him: "Be patient, bear with me."

Just bear with it and you’ll be fine, ah.”

Soon after, the little boy sank back into the quilt, still full of lifeless energy.

But the old man is even older.

He sat still for a while, tucked the child into bed, and then dripped the third drop of blood.

Then comes the fourth drop.

The fifth drop.

…

Wen Shi never thought that he would stand quietly in a cage for so long without doing anything. In fact, it was the best time to release the cage, but he somehow didn't want to interrupt the old man.

He looked at the other person getting older and thinner, and suddenly found a familiar feeling.

Day and night in the cage still rotate very quickly, which is not the normal time.

When the old man squeezed out the first few drops of blood, the mark on the left side of the little boy's heart suddenly turned red, like a dead tree blooming with spring.

He still struggled, and when the old man was stunned for a moment, his eyes were scratched by his fingers that looked like dead branches.
To be continued...