Knock, knock, knock.
Three very rhythmic knocks, not hurried, but with a determined attitude.
Wen Xishu quickly came to the door.
He remembered the rules, he could only observe through the peephole.
But the peephole was much smaller than Wen Xishu had expected. When he pressed his eye to it, he saw nothing but a patch of white.
Suddenly, he had a bad premonition:
"Move your hand away from the peephole."
No response. The person outside continued knocking, still very rhythmic: knock, knock, knock, three knocks.
But Wen Xishu suddenly felt uneasy.
This sound was like some kind of deathly footsteps.
He sensed a chill surging through the room. It was summer, there shouldn't be any reason to feel cold.
Wen Xishu dared not open the door. He really didn't dare.
Looking through the peephole, it was just white. He seemed to be in a silent struggle with the "thing" outside the door.
