Huo Ling felt a chill ran down his spine and he slowly turned to the priestess' corpse. The fair skin is morbidly pale. The red lips looked like it was painted with blood. The eyelashes are also long. Huo Ling felt that with even just a weak blow of the wind, the eyelashes will quiver and it would look like that the priestess is about to wake up.
Huo Ling felt, at any time, the princess will wake up and then, those closed eyes will slowly open, revealing a pair of red pupils. And then, the corpse of the priestess will sit up and then raise her hands, and then grab his neck and choke him.
Huo Ling's face paled and a few drops of cold sweat formed on his forehead. His eyes are as wide as saucers, and he's gaping at the corpse of the priestess in disbelief. The silence inside the room is ringing in his ears, making his mind muddled and cloud his judgement.
