"Adjutant Mo! Master Jiu! Save me! There's a ghost!"
Once Steward Wu saw who had arrived—especially Master Jiu in his Daoist robes—he nearly wept with joy.
This was the personal junior brother of Fu Yuan Temple's master, a man of profound cultivation, utterly beyond comparison with the common spellcasters roaming the martial world!
Ecstatic, his desperate will to live instantly overwhelmed everything else. Ignoring his aching knees and scraped palms, he scrambled up from the ground on all fours and rolled and crawled toward Adjutant Mo and Master Jiu.
Then, from within the pitch-black doorway, an oily green glow seeped out, chilling to the heart.
The Seventeenth Concubine's figure slowly floated out from within, hovering half a foot above the ground.
Her face was white as paper. Her eyes contained nothing but pure black, devoid of even the slightest spark of life—only a bone-deep coldness and deathly stillness as she gazed impassively at the three men in the courtyard.
"It... it's the Seventeenth Concubine!" Adjutant Mo sucked in a sharp breath. A chill surged from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head, and his legs immediately went soft as noodles, nearly sending him collapsing to the ground.
If Master Jiu from Fu Yuan Temple had not been beside him to hold the line, he would have abandoned everyone and fled without looking back!
Master Jiu was here because Lu Xuan had specifically instructed Adjutant Mo to invite him from Fu Yuan Temple.
At the time, Adjutant Mo had assumed the Commander intended to find a fine feng shui burial ground for the violently deceased Seventeenth Concubine and Miss Chen Qing, and had invited Master Jiu to preside over the funeral rites.
He had only just settled Master Jiu in the neighboring courtyard and served him