Qin Ruan didn't answer the little girl's question.
She walked in front of her, extending her slender hand, intending to touch the dry piece of wood at the little girl's heart.
This action alarmed the other party.
The little girl quickly retreated, her voice sharp: "No, you can't touch it."
Her expression and tone were filled with panic, as if Qin Ruan intended to take her life.
Qin Ruan withdrew her hand, a frown on her face as she asked, "Where did the dry wood on you come from?"
The little girl tilted her head, her voice chirpy as she replied, "Play with me, and I'll tell you."
Qin Ruan's eyes narrowed slightly, her voice detached as she questioned, "What do you want to play?"
The little girl pointed toward the Huangjue tree, "Let's play on the tree."
It was still filled with numerous souls, cloaked in darkness, longing to devour life.
For Qin Ruan to climb the tree was to willingly give herself up to death.
