The gray mist was peeled aside by Li Zhiyuan layer after layer. At first it was still fairly thin, but the deeper he went, the denser it became, until in the end, even the slightest touch would make pus ooze out.
After he passed through completely, what lay ahead was a crescent-shaped darkness.
"Boom!"
Thunder sounded, and lightning lit up this region, briefly revealing a courtyard with a pond, and beneath the eaves, the Tomb Master sitting there, leaning against the wall.
He now looked somewhat younger than the body lying in the coffin after his death, yet in terms of state, though technically alive, he was no different from the dead.
His skin was seeping white, he sat there motionless, his eyes open but utterly dull. In short, he was a more delicate, not-yet-rotten walking corpse.
From the moment he was born, he had been treated by the Yin Cha like an inn they could "check into" at any time. This constant possession shattered not only his body, but ground his spirit to dust.
