Late at night, moonlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating a deep pond.
Beside the remote pond, a chorus of frogs croaked, their calls sounding somewhat eerie.
Conglin didn't find it the least bit scary. He'd been fearless since he was a child.
When he was little, a neighbor had died a violent death. He had opened the red coffin and stolen the golden bracelet from the corpse's wrist.
It was precisely this fearless, nonchalant attitude that defined him. After starting his career, he began chasing clout and grabbing eyeballs under the slogan of "debunking feudal superstitions," which he used to justify countless acts that offended gods and ghosts.
Even now, sitting beside this desolate pond in the dead of night, he felt there was nothing to fear.
He even took out a fishing rod and began to fish at a leisurely pace, chatting with the fans in his livestream. "Alright, bros, what do you think? Am I going to reel in a corpse?"
