A bizarre resurrection: I, Yang Jian, am bound by a contract with the school beauty!

Qin Taotao closed her eyes.

When she opened her eyes again, she found that the surrounding scenery had completely lost its color; here, was the gray and white silhouette world of the painting.

Unlike Li Yao.

After entering the world of the painting, she was teleported directly to the streets of Calgary, rather than inside the museum itself.

The streets of Calgary.

But this isn't the real city of Calgary; there's not a sound of any living person here.

The sky was gray.

The clouds were gray too.

The tall buildings in the distance looked as if they had been roughly sketched with a pencil, their edges blurry and stiff.

Cars were parked on the road.

There are people in the car.

No one is moving.

Qin Taotao raised her head and looked into the distance.

There is a museum there.

Just like in real life.

It's different again.

It was like the center of the entire world in the painting, and Qin Taotao knew that she had entered.

We entered the area covered by the ghost paintings.

She didn't rush into action.

I didn't even fantasize about that female ghost.

Li Yao had repeatedly reminded her that the female ghosts in the ghost painting were infinite.

As long as you don't think about it, the pursuit will not continue.

It sounds simple, but you only realize how difficult it is once you actually get inside.

Because this world itself is tempting her.

There was an unseen force in the air, constantly stirring up her memories of the woman in red.

That painting.

That blurry face.

The hand that reaches out from the canvas.

Once a thought arises, it's like a ripple on the surface of water; it's difficult to completely suppress it.

Qin Taotao took a deep breath.

She invoked the rules of the Ghost Post Office.

A letter that never existed was opened deep within her consciousness.

The cold, gloomy atmosphere of the post office overshadowed her memories.

The images of the female ghost were temporarily sealed inside the envelope.

It cannot disappear, but it can be preserved.

Qin Taotao's face paled slightly.

There is a cost to doing this.

But it's necessary.

She began to move forward in the world of the painting.

Our first stop was the museum.

She wanted to confirm whether the source painting also existed in the world depicted in the painting.

The street is very long.

Qin Taotao walked slowly.

She would stop and observe her surroundings every so often.

She saw a coffee shop that was full of people.

Those people were holding cups, their movements paused at the moment they were about to drink water.

There is no coffee in the cup.

Only grayish-white pigment.

She saw a traffic policeman standing in the middle of the road at an intersection, his arm raised as if he were directing traffic.

But that hand was already connected to the air.

It's as if it's been painted over, frozen in that pose forever.

There is also a residential building.

There were many figures standing behind the window.

All those figures were watching her.

Their faces were pressed against the glass.

There were no eyes, only a blurry gray.

Qin Taotao ignored it.

Her goal was clear: to find a way to seal the ghost painting.

But after walking for a long time, she discovered something.

This place is too big.

It's so big it doesn't feel like a city.

The ghost painting may have only swallowed the city of Calgary, but the world within the painting is being stretched, copied, and constantly expanded.

Some streets she had clearly walked through appeared as different roads when she turned back.

Some buildings seem to be right in front of you, but no matter which way you walk, the distance doesn't decrease.

Space was deceiving her.

The direction was deceiving her.

Even time is deceiving her.

Qin Taotao stopped at an intersection and looked up at the sky.

The sky was grayish-white and there was no sun.

There was no moon either.

She couldn't tell how long she had been inside.

But she knew that if she continued searching like this, seven days might not be enough.

Even seventeen days or a hundred days are meaningless.

Ghost drawings are not mazes.

It is a growing supernatural world.

Finding a solution by walking around is virtually impossible.

Qin Taotao remained silent for a moment.

Her gaze gradually turned cold.

"Since we can't find it, we'll let you move it."

She stood in the middle of the intersection, and the supernatural power within her began to revive.

First, there was the ghost driver.

A sound like an old car starting up rang out on the deathly silent street.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The sound was slow, but grew deeper and deeper.

Behind Qin Taotao, a car that didn't exist was vaguely visible.

The car doors were closed.

There seemed to be a blurry human figure sitting in the driver's seat.

That's not a living person.

That was the ghost driver's supernatural manifestation.

next moment.

Qin Taotao raised her hand and pointed forward.

An invisible vehicle suddenly rushed out.

boom!

The whole street shook.

The gray-white vehicle parked on the side of the road was twisted and mangled from the impact.

A crack appeared in the road surface.

But the crack was quickly covered by a grayish-white color, as if the paper had automatically repaired the damage.

Qin Taotao did not stop.

The ghost driver's power was activated time and time again.

Each impact was not aimed at a specific target.

Rather, it's aimed at the world itself.

It crashed into the road.

It crashed into a building.

It hits the air.

The ghost realm depicted in the painting.

boom!

boom!

boom!

The dull thud echoed continuously in the world depicted in the painting.

The gray-white figures standing behind the window began to change.

They all turned their heads and looked at Qin Taotao.

The whole city seemed to be awakened a little.

Qin Taotao's face turned even paler.

Relying solely on ghost drivers is not enough.

The ghost drawing is too stable.

It's like a canvas covering the sky and the earth; no matter how much the ghost driver crashes into it, it can only create folds for a moment.

To shake it, stronger rules are needed.

Qin Taotao raised her other hand.

Behind her, in the darkness, the outline of an old building slowly emerged.

The Mysterious Post Office.

The post office that doesn't exist here, under Qin Taotao's supernatural influence, forcibly injected a portion of its rules into the Ghost Painting World.

Letters began to fall into the air.

One.

Two.

Ten.

One hundred.

The letters were blank, yet they carried the eerie chill unique to the Ghost Post Office.

The post office's rule is to deliver mail.

It's a connection.

It creates some kind of inexplicable passage between supernatural spaces.

At this moment, what Qin Taotao needs to do is to use this rule to forcibly open a postal route in the Ghost Painting World that does not belong to Ghost Painting.

The ghost painting wanted to record her, and the ghost post office also wanted to record her.

Two supernatural rules began to collide.

Qin Taotao's body trembled suddenly.

A trickle of blood escaped from the corner of her mouth.

The blood had just flowed out when it turned grayish-white, as if it were about to be drawn into the painting.

Qin Taotao raised her hand and wiped it away.

His eyes showed no sign of backing down.

"Not enough."

She spoke in a low voice.

The ghost driver started the engine again, and the shadowy door of the eerie post office slowly opened behind her.

This time, it was no longer a simple collision.

Instead, the ghost driver, dragging the rules of the eerie post office, crashed into the depths of this painted world like a supernatural vehicle loaded with letters from the dead.

boom!

The whole world suddenly shuddered, and the buildings on both sides of the street shook simultaneously.

The sky trembled as if it were a piece of paper!

A change finally appeared in Qin Taotao's eyes.

effective.

The ghost painting was shaken.

Although it was only a few points, it did move.

The ghostly realm, so stable it was almost hopeless, experienced a slight rift under the impact of these two high-level supernatural forces.

It's like a painting pasted on the wall, with someone prying it open from the corner.

Qin Taotao forced herself to steady herself.

She didn't waste the opportunity.

The rules of the Ghost Post Office continue to spread.

Those blank letters flew in all directions, sticking to the streets, walls, car windows, and even the gray and white figures.

Each one is pasted on.

That position will experience a brief period of disharmony.

It's as if, after being marked by the post office, it no longer entirely belongs to the category of ghost drawings.

The ghost driver, meanwhile, continues to crash into this discordant landscape.

once.

twice.

three times.

The tremors in the world depicted in the painting became increasingly apparent.

The museum in the distance also began to blur.

The building, which was originally fixed in place, appeared to be pulled by some force, with fine cracks appearing on its edges.