When that crimson Blood Handprint smeared across the canvas, it was as though it had added a hand lifting the Red Veil to the painting.
But immediately afterward, its trail did not move upward but slid downward. Drops of thick blood merged with the canvas's black-red hues, layers of old and new overlapping as they covered the lower half of the Bride's exposed face.
What had originally been a painting that combined terror with beauty became purely horrifying under that mass of bloody handprints.
Even so, it still refused to let him go. Even though Ji Li had become the culprit in the painting who strangled the Ghost Bride—the one who should have been the groom.
"You..."
A low, sinister voice faintly reached Ji Li's ears. Her voice was Hoarse, each word squeezed out between her lips and teeth as resentment rapidly evaporated the blood on the canvas.
Beneath the Red Veil, aside from the rapidly evaporating Blood Handprint, dark, nearly black paint began to stream down the white face.
Even the blood inside the coffin had somehow changed color, rapidly turning into that nearly black liquid paint.
Ji Li's consciousness had sunk to its limit. He knew he was about to die. Even if the Ghost Bride did not act, it would happen in moments—unless he could quickly escape this night.
The Ghost Bride was meant to be buried together in the coffin, but he had defied her wishes and awakened her ahead of time...
Yet the Ghost Heart in his body kept thumping, like a dense drumbeat.
It had come from the Ghost Bride. It was a Ghost Heart. Its reaction was absolutely not because Ji Li was on the verge of death, but for another reason.
As for what that reason was, Ji Li did not even