Before leaving, Chuzheng glanced at the tombstone.
Shi Yin, born in 1899, died in 1916.
Died at just 17 years old.
And it's been a hundred years since...
"How did you find this place?"
"That bookworm told me."
"Big mouth." Shi Yin muttered: "Why do you have the aura of that Fierce Ghost on you?"
"Which one?"
"The one from the Dai's Residence." Shi Yin was startled: "You met him? He didn't do anything to you, right?"
"What could he do to me?"
Chuzheng walked back with her hands behind her back.
So handsome and cool.
Shi Yin was fangirling for two seconds at the back.
Quickly snapped herself out of it.
Looked at that paper man she left in the cemetery.
This is a demon.
So handsome, my foot!
"How are you getting back?" Shi Yin floated and caught up with Chuzheng: "This place is far from the city."
"The car is waiting."
She wasn't stupid.
In the wilderness, of course, you have to have the driver wait.
But Chuzheng never expected—
"Where's the car?"
