At three o'clock in the morning, the sound of the copper pot dripping suddenly became extremely clear, as if someone was counting the heartbeat in his ear. The bronze mirror suddenly stood up on its own, and fine ripples appeared on the surface of the mirror, as if something was about to move on the other side.
Lin Dong tightened his grip on the mahogany sword at his waist, but found that his palms were covered in cold sweat and the scabbard slipped from his hands several times.
Uncle Jiu's pipe pot clinked to the ground, causing a crisp sound in the silence. The incense ashes slipped from the altar table, scattering a crooked word "fierce" on the ground.
At this moment, ripples suddenly appeared on the mirror surface, and a pale hand penetrated the mirror surface, with its fingers spread out and pressed on the ground of reality. The blood vessels under the skin are clearly visible, and the blue-black veins spread like spider webs. Black mucus is dripping from the fingertips, and small pits are made on the blue bricks.
Lin Dong wanted to retreat, but found that his feet seemed to be nailed to the ground, unable to move. The hand crawled forward slowly, and the silver bracelet on the wrist was engraved with ancient Sanskrit characters. It was the ornament on the corpse king last night.
Uncle Jiu suddenly stretched out his hand to push him away, but his ankle was grabbed by that hand. His skin turned gray at a speed visible to the naked eye, and black liquid oozed from his wrinkles.
"Let's go!" Uncle Jiu roared, and the pipe rod hit the mirror, but was blown away the moment it touched it. Lin Dong gritted his teeth, grabbed the fragment of the Bagua mirror on the altar table, and stabbed the hand fiercely.
Amidst the screams, his hand quickly retracted from the mirror, leaving a long blood trail. The bronze mirror let out a piercing scream, and more bloody words appeared on the mirror, but it shattered into powder before Lin Dong could see the content clearly.
