Cheng Kong had never imagined that a little girl's ghost had been clinging to him all along.
Always timid, he went deathly pale.
The other players were frightened to varying degrees as well, letting out cries of alarm and stumbling several steps backward.
But when they saw the little girl's ghost sobbing and trying to hug the woman's skull, she could not touch it at all. Her two translucent little hands kept passing through the solid skull, over and over. Angry and aggrieved, she cried harder and harder, unable to stop herself.
By the end, her cries were almost like the shriek of a boiling kettle, and horrifying tears of blood streamed down her little face.
She kept crying out, "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy, I'm here! Mommy, where are you?"
Che Quan was momentarily stunned by the little girl's sudden breakdown. He had not expected the girl, who had seemed so indifferent yesterday, to erupt with such overwhelming emotion.
Still, Che Quan had never had much patience for soothing children, nor did he have time to wait for this one to finish crying.
So, two seconds later, Che Quan spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. "Stop."
Yet the little girl only cried harder. If not for the blood covering her face, she probably would have looked even more pitiful.
Finding her increasingly difficult to deal with, Che Quan pressed his lips together.
Another second or two passed before Che Quan raised his hand and pointed at the little girl's forehead from a distance.
"Enough. I have business to attend to."
Che Quan's voice was flat.
Intimidated by his oppressive presence, the little girl stopped shedding bloody tears at once. But she still looked at him with watery eyes, wanting to cry but unable to, as though terribly wronged.
Only