"Your Highness, what on earth are you?"
The Old Ghost King, who has lived over eight hundred years and is near the end of his lifespan, feels a shiver in his heart.
He originally intended to toy with this King's Consort. Although he couldn't consume his vitality, he could still mock him a bit. But now, he realizes he doesn't have the qualification to do so.
He used to mock the national lord in his heart. At such a level, he was still obsessed with the beauty of living mortals. But he hadn't expected that the other party's choice was indeed unique. It was his own vision that was flawed.
Squeak, squeak, squeak—
It was during this moment, while the Old Ghost King was interrogating, that the endless white paper lanterns, like an enraged swarm of bees, were flocking toward Feng Qing'an.
Under the young man's feet, the crimson wave also rose tens of feet high, like a wall of blood that was about to smack Feng Qing'an into the sea of blood and drown him.
"Fall back!"
