At dusk.
Gui Pu hurried out of the tavern, and everyone in the street had closed early, doors shut, almost deserted.
"Tonight is the last night of the ghostly outbreak."
He murmured.
Tomorrow will be the Red Sun, now it's the darkest before dawn.
This night will be the coldest in the past one hundred and fifty years!
The city is filled with gusts of yin winds.
The darkness at this moment is like eternal night descending, obscuring the daytime clamor and brilliance, the temperature between heaven and earth suddenly plummets.
As if the whole world suddenly arrived at a frozen tundra, with a bleak chilly wind blowing.
A thick and hauntingly cold aura, like that of a deep abyss or hell, envelops the entire Nine-State, immersing the world in a quiet and mysterious ambiance.
"Must act on the city while confusion reigns."
Gui Pu looked up, gazed afar into the eternal night sky that had lost its stars:
