Chuzheng returned in the morning and lay down on the sofa.
The Evil Ghost floated at the corner of the staircase, peering at her.
After watching for a while, he floated back upstairs.
"She's back... but I don't think she's planning to come up," the Evil Ghost reported to Xia Han.
"What's wrong with her?" Xia Han grew a bit anxious, "Is she hurt?"
"No," the Evil Ghost shook his head.
"Open the door for me," Xia Han looked at the Evil Ghost.
The Evil Ghost backed away in terror, "No... no, I can't."
"Do it now," Xia Han glared at him.
Evil Ghost: "..."
I can't control my own hands anymore.
But I don't want to be beaten to death.
-
Chuzheng lay on the sofa, her hand resting on her forehead, eyes lightly closed.
"Little Beauty?"
Her wrist was caught, and the warm touch made Chuzheng open her eyes.
What she saw was the youth's delicate face, his beautiful pupils filled with a touch of worry.
She lowered her hand, glanced at the staircase, then at Xia Han.
