The headline was local news from Minqing.
The chain of car crashes and explosion Gu Mo had experienced still hadn't been dealt with. The scene remained sealed off, and the police were still searching for evidence and clearing away every last fragment. There were pieces of cars scattered across the road, as well as debris left behind by the explosions at the shops along the street. It was a massive amount of work.
The number of dead and injured, as well as the cause and details of the incident, were still being updated.
I saw a photo of a storefront, its facade charred black.
I could almost see Gu Mo in the photo—the footage from the security camera showing him standing on the sidewalk, calling me.
That stabbing pain in my heart returned.
But compared to before, I could accept the reality more easily now.
As long as I could change the entire world, all those deaths would be undone, and they would all live.
Thinking this way eased the pain.
Perhaps Ye Qing had managed to persevere for so many years by relying on the same resolve.
I closed the article and continued reading.
People hadn't forgotten Christina. The media had interviewed experts from all walks of life, hoping to explain what had happened with the singing that day.
It seemed the government was no longer restricting this kind of news.
Perhaps it had never been restricted; there were simply more detailed reports now.
I couldn't help worrying that the Ghost King might once again run amok and spread across the entire world.
Even if I could change everything, the Ghost King's growing power would still be an obstacle to me.
Fortunately, the media hadn't directly steered the story toward the supernatural. The experts they'd invited didn't know much