Bi Yao rode her magical treasure and quickly reached the Ghost King Sect headquarters by a familiar route.
Yet at that moment, beneath the blood-colored night, the Ghost King Sect headquarters seemed so deathly still. Even the wind seemed to have fallen asleep, without the slightest sound to be heard.
The moment Bi Yao stepped into the headquarters, she could not help shivering from head to toe. A faint yet persistent sense of danger lingered in her heart. Without realizing it, she grew cautious all the way as she walked toward the Ghost King's study.
After walking for an unknown length of time, Bi Yao saw two Ghost King Sect disciples dozing with their heads on the table at a sentry post. She had just been about to go over and wake them when a hand suddenly reached out from behind, clamped tightly over her mouth, and dragged her into the darkness.
Bi Yao was just about to strike back when a familiar voice sounded by her ear. "Don't make a sound! It's me!"
"Uncle Qinglong!" Bi Yao widened her eyes and turned to look at Qinglong behind her.
His face was as pale as paper, and there was not the slightest trace of color on his lips.
"Qing..."
"Shh!" Qinglong hurriedly stopped Bi Yao from speaking. "Come out with me first!"
With that, Qinglong led Bi Yao carefully sneaking toward the outside of the sect.
Although Bi Yao's feet followed Qinglong away, she still could not set her mind at ease. She looked back and saw the two sect disciples at the sentry post seem to twitch. At first she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, but as the frequency and range of their movements grew greater and greater, Bi Yao's eyes widened, her face filled with