Song Changqing seemed to have removed a heavy chain from his body in an instant. He straightened his back and neck, and his bones made cracking sounds as they stretched.
Once he regained his freedom, he immediately tore off the Daoist robe that was on his head and back.
"I'll go!"
The Daoist robe was stained with stinky black blood, and his hand was stained with it.
Song Changqing was from cloud Tiger Mountain and had dealt with ghosts and zombies all year round. He knew that he had fallen into a trap.
It was a pity that it was too late when he discovered the Dao. At that time, he could neither speak nor see, so he could only feel a gloomy aura pressing on his shoulders, urging him to move forward quickly.
He knew that something had happened to him.
The yellow clothes hanging from his shoulders made song Changqing realize who the ghost on his shoulders was.
This human skin lantern didn't care about martial virtue!
