"Borrowing?" The old woman grinned, showing her sparse black teeth. "There is no shop in front and no village in the back. You might as well have a bowl of wedding wine before leaving." Qiu Wuya did not accept the bowl and only asked, "Have you ever seen a few horsemen wearing raincoats?" The old woman's smile froze on her face, and the red line broke with a snap. She stared at Qiu Wuya's baggage, her cloudy eyes trembling slightly: "You brought unclean things." The night wind blew up suddenly, and the pottery bowls on the millstones clinked against each other, and the wine spilled on the ground, becoming as sticky as blood. The old woman grabbed Qiu Wuya's wrist suddenly, and her nails almost dug into the flesh: "Pillow in pairs, the soul returns home, you can't escape..." Before she finished speaking, the lanterns at the entrance of the village suddenly went out. In the darkness, there was a "squeak" sound in the distance - like someone's door slowly opening. The old woman's hands were as cold as ice. Qiu Wuya jerked his wrist back and took two steps back, only to find that the darkness around him was too thick to dissolve. There was an old musty smell wafting in the wind, mixed with a faint fishy smell, as if a coffin that had not been opened for many years had suddenly been pried open. "Who is there?" He asked in a low voice, his hand already on the peach wood sword. No one answered. Behind the open door in the distance, there was a faint red light floating. Qiu Wuya squinted his eyes and saw a pale lantern floating out from the door. On the lantern paper was a large word "" written in cinnabar, but the candlelight was a strange green color. Behind the lantern is a red sedan chair. The sedan curtain automatically lifted up a corner when there was no wind. Qiu Wuya's breath stagnated - sitting in the sedan was a woman wearing a wedding dress, her hijab lowered, and her hands folded on her knees. The hands were so pale that they were almost transparent, but the nails were pitch black, as if they were soaked in ink. "Pillow... Give it back to me..."
It's really good-looking, similar to the Mysterious Resurrection style. Evil ghosts cannot be killed, and only through ghosts can one fight against ghosts.
Dark Object Realm
—Reads—Score—Shelves
Midnight**
—Reads5.8Score—Shelves
Horror Folklore [Fake Master Shocks Hundreds of Demons]
729Reads5.8Score—Shelves
Do You Believe That There Are Ghosts in This World?
42Reads5.8Score—Shelves
Disaster**
—Reads5.8Score—Shelves
Paranormal Investigation Bureau
100Reads—Score—Shelves