After leaving that old forest haunted by ghosts, Yang Jian continued onward.
According to his assessment, Sun Rui could not have gone too far, because neither his abilities nor his physical condition allowed it.
So Yang Jian was not worried about getting lost in here.
Following the winding trail, they soon came upon another fork in the road. One path led left and the other right, and there was no way to tell which oil painting each one connected to.
"A fork has appeared, and there are no traces left on the ground. We can't tell which way Sun Rui went," Zhang Xianguang said. "We either split up and search, or pick a path at random."
Yang Jian said nothing. His Ghost Eye looked down both paths, and soon the scenery at the ends of the forks came into view.
The scene on the left was strange. Large vats had been placed across the ground, each filled with dye of a different color—black, red, green. It looked deeply unsettling, yet there was no sign of a fierce ghost. It was impossible to tell whether that oil painting represented objects or a fierce ghost.
The scene on the right was much more normal: a small garden, its flowers all in bloom. Yet they did not seem real, more like they had been painted. He vaguely saw someone standing in the middle of the garden. Though the figure was unclear, it could be identified as a woman.
"There's no need to split up. This is no longer the territory of you dead souls, but the territory of fierce ghosts. If we split up, anyone could be in danger, including you," Yang Jian said.
They were essentially dealing with a supernatural incident now. Splitting up was a major taboo, and he would not