The woman looked at Jiangli, smiling eerily and twisted.
"Come on, kill me—"
Jiangli frowned, not yet speaking, when the face in front of him changed into Fu Shiyan's face again.
"Why, why—"
He looked at Jiangli with a pained expression, his face turning a shade of purple.
"Lili, why..."
His throat seemed filled with blood, and his hoarse voice was full of pain and confusion.
He even reached out, trying to grasp Jiangli's hand.
But Jiangli suddenly tightened his grip on the dagger and, in the next moment, withdrew it with shock.
At the same time.
In different positions on various floors, Xun Tianhai and the others were guarding the formation and candles without moving an inch.
They stared intently at the candles, not daring to let their minds wander for even a moment, their eyes wide open, afraid to miss any crucial information.
But after waiting for a long time, there was no sign of the malevolent spirit.
Xun Tianhai and the others grew even more nervous.
