The Red Moon hung high in the sky.
Demonic aura soared into the heavens within the courtyard, while gusts of yin wind swept through it.
Chen Mo swept his gaze over the guests' faces and frowned slightly.
At first glance, the courtyard was packed with people, as lively as an ordinary country gentry's wedding feast.
Yet to his divine sense, the vast majority of those filling the courtyard had been possessed by spirits.
Foxes, hedgehogs, green snakes, rats—even several ancient ghosts.
Actual living people had instead become scarce, scattered among them. Their eyes were vacant, and they had clearly been so thoroughly bewitched that they had forgotten even their own surnames.
Chen Mo sneered inwardly.
No wonder the Wang Family had invited so many guests. They had prepared shells for these spirits and ghosts.
Seeing that Chen Mo and the others still refused to take their seats, Wang Shouren's expression darkened, and the yin wind throughout the courtyard abruptly ceased.
The candles in the courtyard all shrank at once, their flames shifting from orange-yellow to bluish green, casting a sickly green light over the guests' faces.
The lively atmosphere was severed with a single stroke.
Every gaze turned toward the four of them in unison, pinning them in place.
Several threads of icy probing intent stretched toward Chen Mo, carrying undisguised malice.
Master Long's back tensed. His hand quietly moved to the pig-slaughtering knife at his waist, and his Adam's apple bobbed.
"Don't move."
Chen Mo pressed down on his wrist. "This whole courtyard is full of either spirits or wandering ghosts. There aren't many living people."
"Since we've entered a ghost den, let's see what tune they're planning to sing."
He patted Master Long's shoulder, then glanced at the two sailors. "Follow me. Don't look around, and don't