The Mist Rises

Realizing he couldn't see what was behind him, Zhao Yijiu didn't retreat. Instead, he charged straight at the white jade coffin, not even caring that the white thing might see him.

The closer he got, the more the bone-chilling cold crept into his limbs.

He had to figure out what the white jade coffin represented before he could find a way to steady the situation!

But he'd barely taken a few steps when he suddenly tripped, as though an invisible hand had stretched across the ground just to toy with him.

A faint laugh came from behind him.

A few seconds later, something yanked his arm backward.

These playful little tricks couldn't stop Zhao Yijiu from charging toward the coffin, but they kept throwing off his balance. He nearly fell several times. Just as he stumbled up beside the coffin, a white jade-colored arm suddenly reached out from behind his shoulder and wrapped around his neck.

"So much water, so much water..."

The shrill voice sounded like a child's. It spoke right beside Zhao Yijiu's ear, close enough to touch.

His palm felt damp. Looking down, he saw that the ground around the white jade coffin was wet, as if someone had just splashed it with water. His hand had pressed into it, leaving wet mud all over his palm.

The arm around his neck was damp too. Chilly water ran down the white jade arm and soaked his collar, clinging to his skin with a bone-deep cold.

A wave of suffocation swept over him. Bracing himself, Zhao Yijiu glanced at the white jade coffin and finally saw the ghost-face pattern, faintly tinged with blood, carved into its lid.

As for what was inside...

Nothing.

Just as he'd thought, whatever had been inside had already come out. And it was