"Did you kill Qian Hui?" Bai Gaozheng looked at Shang Wanqiu, sizing her up suspiciously from head to toe. Then he looked at the blanket hanging over the window and Qiao Anying's corpse on the floor.
I saw his hand move, and my heart suddenly tensed. I often used talisman paper, so how could I not recognize that move? Disgust flashed in Shang Wanqiu's eyes. She clearly disliked being looked at that way.
I added, "Of course she alone wouldn't have been enough. You need both offense and defense—and naturally, a little luck too... Take Qiao Anying, for example. But dead is dead. He only had himself to blame. He capsized in a gutter."
"You can control ghosts?" Bai Gaozheng frowned, his expression turning grim. If I had the strength to defeat Qian Hui, I would inevitably affect him in some way. I might even kill him in a counterattack, so he was extremely displeased.
"No. I only have the Dream-Chasing Pot." I spoke indifferently as I pulled the Dream-Chasing Pot from my pocket and waved it in front of him.
Only then did Bai Gaozheng stare at the Dream-Chasing Pot in sudden understanding. "So it's the Dream-Chasing Pot... The spiritual power of you people who ascended to the Upper Realm really is formidable. You can even control a ghost like this." Bai Gaozheng still seemed unconvinced, perhaps because he thought my level was too low.
I did not answer him. Pretending not to know anything, I stood on the balcony and looked down. The battle below had dissolved into chaos. The enemy had sent countless people, while Ouyang De and Yang Zhenglin had already clashed with the forces from the south and east. Blood covered the ground, and quite a few people had been beaten to death outright.
Those