The Zhou Family Distillery.
With the Listening-to-Rain Sword at his waist, Zhou Muzhi stepped inside as though no one were there, dressed in pitch-black clothes, a forehead band wrapped across his face, his expression calm.
Ahead of him, some hooligans were laughing and joking. One drank wine looted from the market, his cheeks flushed red with drunkenness.
Even when Zhou Muzhi appeared right in front of him, the man did not notice.
This was A-Xiang's doing. As a ghost, obscuring people's vision was child's play.
From Zhou Muzhi's perspective, A-Xiang floated behind him, countless lengths of silk unfurling from her blood-red figure. Like spider silk, the red strips covered the people who appeared before him, one by one.
As Zhou Muzhi advanced, this area kept expanding until it covered half the market.
Everyone went about their own business until a man who was clearly the leader appeared, his face vicious as he barked at his subordinates.
At one point, he spotted Zhou Muzhi, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, and demanded in surprise, "Who are you? Zhou Muzhi! How did you get here? Boys, get him!"
At these words, the others looked ahead in bewilderment, unable to see the Zhou Muzhi their boss was talking about.
One man's teeth chattered. "Boss, there's nobody there!"
"Bullshit!" The leader turned and slapped him, then pointed at Zhou Muzhi. "Isn't this a living person? You can't see him?"
His underlings all shook their heads. This time, the leader stiffened. He looked at Zhou Muzhi. There was no mistake-he was a living person.
Zhou Muzhi smiled. "Stop guessing. In this area, you're the only one who can see me or hear what I say."
"A ghost!"
The leader shrieked, his voice shriller than a woman's.
Zhou Muzhi gave him no chance. Drawing