Mo Xiaoling was still unconscious and knew nothing about what was happening.
The others were already terrified out of their wits.
But they had clearly misunderstood the situation before them.
They thought the ghost haunting this place had killed Mr. Sun.
The people Mr. Sun had brought with him immediately tried to escape.
They scattered talismans they had apparently gotten from somewhere, throwing them around as if they were free, while muttering under their breath.
I saw the ghost emerge from the room. It moved along the shadows cast by the light, freely slipping through the abandoned building as it slowly approached the panicked crowd.
They didn't abandon the unconscious Mo Xiaoling or the young Wan Jisheng. One person pulled Wan Jisheng along, while another went to carry Mo Xiaoling. The remaining two waved a small bronze sword and a peachwood sword, trying to clear a path.
I didn't know how many times they had rehearsed this sort of thing in private, but there was no doubt they were wasting their effort.
The ghost crooked a finger, and the front door shut on its own.
A brick suddenly fell from the ceiling, striking the person waving the peachwood sword on the head. He grunted and collapsed.
This only deepened the others' misunderstanding.
The person who had gone to carry Mo Xiaoling wasn't on guard and touched her body.
The death scene in Mo Xiaoling's mind showed a homeless man's throat being slit by broken glass. A line of blood appeared across the person's neck. He froze, then blood gushed out, and he collapsed.
The others screamed in panic.
With two people dead, part of the backlash was shared, and Mo Xiaoling came to her senses.
She stared blankly at the corpse beside her and the blood covering her body, unable