Perhaps Li Ang had indeed fulfilled the pale figure's request, or perhaps the other party found Li Ang's singing too dreadful to bear; the woman dressed in a nun's white habit began to tremble slowly all over.
"CRACK, CRACK, CRACK."
From her neck came a series of extremely loud sounds of bones moving.
Her body was sitting properly in the driver's seat, but her head was turning.
With the slight sway of her hair, Li Ang saw something white beneath the black strands at the back of her head—was it a hair clip?
Wait, no, that wasn't a hair clip. It's a nose.
From the moment the woman got into the car, her head had been twisted 180 degrees. Now, it was merely turning back to the correct orientation.
Li Ang's hands were on the steering wheel, his eyes wide as he watched the woman turn her head back.
