The Livestream That Never Got Off the Ground

Meanwhile, Hunter's mischievous streak had kicked in, and he was telling Ning Caichen a "story." The scholar's journey from utter confusion to growing unease and a deathly pale face need not be recounted here.

Elsewhere, in a ruined, open courtyard within the temple, a thick cloud briefly covered the moon. Amid the shadows, faint traces of figures quietly appeared.

"Granny has given her orders. Many living people have come to Lanruo Temple today. This is a rare opportunity, unlike the usual ones. Xiao Qian and Xiao Qing, you two will deal with them together. Do not make any mistakes."

"Yes."

Two voices sounded, one after the other.

The night was deep. Under the wan moonlight, a broken corner of the courtyard's upturned eaves looked like a claw reaching out from a monster.

Only the great old locust tree stood lush, its gnarled branches and tangled roots rustling in the wind. It made a low, mournful sound, as though the delusions of countless fools from ages past had gathered within it, seething with endless resentment.

Streams of yin energy converged, becoming a dim mist visible to the naked eye. Within it stood a group of women in varied clothing, their figures indistinct. Every face was somewhat pale, yet none could conceal the beauty she had possessed in life.

Whether deliberately or not, these insubstantial, fluttering "fairies" all avoided the long locust roots running across the ground. Once they had heard their orders, they bowed deeply, then quietly departed as gusts of cold wind.

Only the two women who had been called by name remained. Or rather, the two female ghosts.

One wore flowing white robes with long sleeves and kept her eyes lowered. The other wore a blue-green dress that set off her graceful figure, though there was something searing in