Chen Zhijie never expected that she would pick up a prince's follower on her way to revenge.
"Miss Chen, this hanged ghost said that you look like his maid from the previous life..."
Song Zhaolin was leaning on the locust tree, and the jade fracture fan stabbed the ghost man's neck accurately: "But I think--his tongue is three feet wide and he is so blind, so I suggest it be remade."
Chen Zhijie threw out three silver needles without looking back. The male ghost screamed and turned into smoke. The ashes of the talisman fell on her blood-stained plain skirt: "If the prince makes up stories about the dead souls again, the next time he will pierce the Yamen point."
Until we went to the ghost market together on a moonlit night, Song Zhaolin suddenly held Chen Zhijie's hand that was holding the talisman: "Look, I know, buy one get one free at the Meng Po Soup stall."
"So?"
"So..." His fingertips brushed against the darkly embroidered Chen family cloud pattern on her sleeves, and three thousand ghostly ghosts were reflected in his eyes: "If I am still alive after your father's unjust case is found out, can I book your exclusive consultation rights for the rest of my life?"
Intention: The cycle of cause and effect has its own consequences.
