Once midnight had passed.
It meant the post office's mission had begun. The messengers on the fourth floor had to stay here for seven days. This was the first day, and it had only just begun.
The oppressive, dim old house was silent.
The other Ghost Tamers who had followed Yang Jian here had also fallen quiet. They might have been arrogant, but they were not stupid.
This old house was clearly wrong. Before they understood the situation, no one dared act recklessly, so they chose relatively safe places to stay.
The main hall was empty at the moment. The surroundings were terrifyingly quiet, leaving only the shriveled corpse of an old man seated in a black Grand Tutor Chair, eyes shut and expressionless. His icy dead feet rested on the floor, covered in livor mortis.
Even though a coffin stood behind the main hall.
At this moment, no one dared lay the old man to rest, or even approach the corpse. They could only leave it sitting there quietly.
The corpse seemed to have become a taboo. No one dared touch it.
Even Zhou Deng shook his head and left after observing it for a while. He felt the clothes on the corpse were probably worthless, most likely not a Supernatural Item, so he lost interest.
Outside the old house.
Chilling gusts of wind swept through, making the two large lanterns hanging from the main gate sway gently.
No one noticed that, at this very moment, the two lanterns on the gate had changed from bright red to ghastly white. A black funeral character had appeared on each lantern. Light glowed within them, also a colorless, miserable white. They were exceedingly eerie, like lanterns guiding the souls of the dead, especially conspicuous in this dim and oppressive world.
The