Between the ghost town, all was silent. The buildings stood closely packed, their shadows stretching out under the faint pale light, resembling sharp claws.
It was eerily quiet, with all the doors and windows tightly shut.
In the distant valley, fierce winds stirred, and amidst the blackness, something seemed to shift repeatedly.
Yin Weiyin studied the houses on both sides, understanding that within each building, malevolent spirits lay hidden.
Perhaps Chen Yi mentioned Min Ning too many times, for the female crown now mused whether the gallant Min Ning, if here, would draw her sword and knife, drag out those evil spirits one by one, and slay them.
As she imagined this, a vision of chivalrous ghost-slaying emerged—a painting where rubble lay scattered everywhere, Min Ning likely treading over ghostly corpses, her skirts flowing as she raised her head to drink wine.
Yin Weiyin sighed lightly and shook her head.
