After the funeral on the sixth day, everything remained normal for the rest of the time.
All danger seemed to have vanished. There were no longer any supernatural signs within the old house.
In an old room.
Yang Jian was not afraid. He lay directly on the wooden canopy bed to rest. He seemed to have fallen asleep, his eyes closed and completely still.
Off to one side of the room, Yang Xiaohua found a sleeping bag among the luggage left behind by the other messengers. After eating and drinking a little, she curled up inside it to rest as well. She was exhausted, having suffered tremendous torment both physically and mentally.
Anyone who could survive such pressure in this kind of environment was either insane or possessed extraordinary willpower.
Ordinary people would either die or transform.
Clearly.
Yang Xiaohua had endured it. She was adapting to this bizarre environment of supernatural attacks. Rather than giving up on herself, she replenished her food and water, seized every opportunity to rest, and improved her chances of survival.
She chose to stay beside Yang Jian because, compared with everywhere else, his side was the safest place.
But there was not much time left for anyone to rest.
It was already seven in the evening on the sixth day.
There were only five hours left until the arrival of the final day, the seventh-night return. No one knew what dangers tomorrow would bring. Although there were currently no malicious ghosts inside or outside the old house, everyone still felt deeply uneasy.
After all, the experiences of the previous days had taught them a harsh lesson.
"Why does my face seem so unfamiliar?" At the same time, in another old room.
Liu Qingqing took out a compact mirror she carried with her. She examined