Copper coins made a crisp and pleasant clinking sound in the ferryman's pouch, after which the ferryman began to pole the boat again.
Watching the ferryman's bamboo pole almost never stopping, now poling the boat and now constantly jabbing at evil spirits, Tian Lin couldn't help but empathize with his busy state.
When he and the sisters Yu'er arrived at Immortal Sinking Pond at dusk, it was he who killed the evil spirits, with Cui'er collecting the residual souls with soul-collecting beads.
At that time, Tian Lin had depleted his True Qi and Spiritual Sense completely, truly exhausted to the point of collapse.
And now, this ferryman not only faced roaming souls but also Night Patrol Deities.
The hardship was clearly much greater than his own, so busy it was heart-wrenching.
"Will there be enough soul-collecting beads later on?"
In Tian Lin's Storage Bag, seven or eight soul-collecting beads, swollen to the size of eggs, emitted a faint ghostly glow.
