The Fatty's perspective was completely different from everyone else's. The instant he stepped onto the paper bridge, everything before his eyes changed. First came darkness, then a bone-chilling cold. The sound of a great river flowed into his ears, and before him appeared an exceedingly wide, incredibly long bridge. It arched upward, its steps climbing so high that he could barely see the end.
The bridge had clearly been there for a very, very long time. The stone steps were covered with cracks and patches of moss. They were broad and carried the weight of history, yet they also made him feel terribly oppressed.
A mist as thick as smoke shrouded the bridge, reducing visibility to less than five meters. Shadowy shapes flickered within it, and he had no idea what might be lurking there.
At the same time, the lantern in his hand changed color, turning from a normal orange-yellow to a ghastly green. Holding such a lantern made the Fatty feel completely immersed in the scene. He even began to wonder if he was already dead, and whether crossing this bridge would send him off to be reincarnated.
The Fatty groped his way onto the bridge. The cold stone steps beneath his feet nearly froze him stiff, but that wasn't the most terrifying thing. That was what was behind him.
"Tap."
"Tap."
"Tap."
Footsteps sounded behind him as well. Whenever the Fatty took a step, the footsteps behind him took one too. But he didn't dare look back, because he knew Gao Yanqing was following close behind. His purpose in coming here was to send Gao Yanqing's vengeful spirit into the underworld.
To distract himself, the Fatty curiously looked around. Other than the mist-shrouded bridge, there seemed to be nothing else in this world. There was no