"You bunch of bandits!"
"Even as a ghost, I, Wang Qi, won't let you off the hook..."
Deep in the woods, a martial artist was bound tightly, wrapped up like a rice dumpling.
In his mouth, there should've been a stinky sock, but he had vomited it out, and it now lay beside his head.
From the traces around him,
he must have been tied up here for quite some time, as the weeds around him had been flattened by his struggle.
Tired of cursing, the martial artist rolled around, searching for insects to eat to replenish his strength. After eating, he resumed his cursing.
"Dai Temple disciples are professionals at exorcising ghosts. Are you sure that you have the courage to mess with them after becoming one?"
All of a sudden,
a voice sounded next to Wang Qi's ear.
"Who?"
"Who's there?"
