My heart began to race as I gradually realized how dangerous this thing was.
Whatever it was—a ghost, a monster, or some kind of evil spirit—it wasn't the easy-to-deal-with thing I'd first imagined.
I was worried about Wu Ling. She probably wouldn't die, but an injury that serious wasn't something to take lightly, was it?
The Taoist priest and the man in Republican-era clothes were already preparing to leave. They'd dumped the situation here in Ye Qing's hands.
Without even saying a word, they ran straight for the exit. Their decisiveness was astonishing.
I turned to look at them just in time to see them run past the headless monk's corpse. The monk suddenly rolled over and grabbed them by the ankles.
They both tripped and fell. Before they could react, two beasts like leopards burst out of the landscaped strips on either side and pinned them to the ground, tearing into them.
I said "like leopards" because their coats were bloodred, as red as thick, viscous blood.
The men's blood sprayed across the beasts, making the red of their coats grow even brighter, as if it had taken on a life of its own.
I stared at the transformation, dumbfounded, not knowing what to do.
A figure passed by me.
I turned back and saw Ye Qing heading toward the statue Ning Guowei had pointed out earlier.
Ning Guowei had collapsed onto the ground, but he hadn't completely lost his wits. As Ye Qing passed, he tried to beg for help, but Ye Qing avoided him.
"Mr. Ye! Please, save us!" Ning Guowei wailed.
Even the old man from the Wu family, his legs gone weak, crawled toward Ye Qing, hoping to find shelter with him.
"Are you dead?" Ye Qing turned around, though it wasn't clear who he