Not a single figure could be seen in the corridor.
It was empty and silent.
The building seemed to have lost its vitality in an instant, becoming lifeless.
"These people ran away too fast," Zheng Qing muttered to himself, staring at the vacant corridor in front of him.
His voice echoed clearly in the silent corridor.
There was no response.
The ghosts lingering in the teaching building emitted sob-like whimpering behind the walls, occasionally passing through the walls, scraping off some fragments of their ephemeral bodies, leaving traces of their passage in the air. They appeared milky white and hazy, like frosty windows on a winter day, or the fog rising from the surface of Lin Zhong Lake in the early morning.
