"This little ghost is quite powerful. The needle can't hold him back. It seems the only way to bring peace to everyone is to eliminate him."
Zhuang Qingning murmured softly to herself, then abruptly lifted her hand. The peach wood sword in her hand fiercely slashed down onto the doll.
The doll was silent almost instantly. Where Zhuang Qingning's sword had struck, the original pale hue gradually deepened, turning visibly red before everyone's eyes.
A red that resembled blood.
A deadly silence fell across the crowd, their eyes wide and mouths agape, unable to regain their composure for a long time.
"The doll... it's bleeding..."
It was not until someone broke the silence with a cry of alarm that they seemed to come back to their senses.
"What do you mean the doll's bleeding? That's ghost blood! The little ghost must have been killed, that's why it's bleeding!"
"Right, the little ghost must have been killed. Otherwise, why would there be blood?"
"..."
