Jiang huailu stood in front of the hall of salvation.
Everyone probably sensed something and closed their doors even before it was dark.
Every household had the portrait of the door God, general Fang, pasted on it. It looked like an ordinary drawing paper, drawn with cinnabar, and even a little scribbled.
No one knew if it would be effective, but it was better than nothing.
It was much better than the bare wooden door that was blessed by luck.
Granny Zhu had already told everyone to stay as far away from the hall of salvation as possible.
No one said anything. The tallest tree in the forest would be destroyed by the wind. The ability of the hall of salvation was too outstanding. If they were to leave huangdu, they would sooner or later attract the anger of the evil spirits in the world.
This was only the first wave.
However, as long as they won, the hall of salvation would truly stand firm.
