Waiting and Conflict

The nightmare-like night had passed, and dawn had broken.

But what had happened in the village could no longer be undone. Most of those who had died in the nightmare had likely killed themselves in bizarre ways by now. The wailing and heartbroken cries had gradually subsided, and those who had lost loved ones were slowly accepting this cruel reality.

For Yang Jian, sitting quietly like this was a kind of enjoyment. Even though he was sitting side by side with a ghost in the trunk, holding its hand, it did not affect his mood.

He had examined the corpse several times.

It was rotting.

But the decay was not particularly fast. If this continued, it would take at least a day or two for more than half of the corpse to rot away.

In other words, Yang Jian had to suppress this corpse for one or two days.

During that time, he had to avoid using the abilities of his other ghosts as much as possible, lest the balance within him fail.

So far, without the aid of supernatural items, Yang Jian was the only person he knew who could use ghost abilities for one or two days without risking revival. Wei Jing might be able to do the same, but that man seemed half-dead already. His consciousness had been eroded by a ghost, and Yang Jian did not know whether Wang Xiaoming could save him.

"Hehe, Cousin, why are you here? I went to your house just now to look for you. Aunt Jiang said you left last night."

Suddenly, a laugh rang out. A sweet and adorable young girl walked over from the village, looking exceptionally enthusiastic when she saw Yang Jian.

"Cousin." Yang Jian's expression shifted slightly, and his gaze became guarded.

The person in the