On the outskirts of the Land of Fallen, an azure smoke as faint as a dream weaved and flowed through the forest.
'Bow wow—' Several dog barks accompanied by the eerie jingling of bells echoed through the forest.
Two ghostly figures, one in front of the other, swept through the mist and quickly arrived at the fringe of the Land of Fallen, near the banks of Ming River.
"Old Zhu, wait for me here."
Said the man with green hair on his temples, who was looking at the other fierce and wicked ghostly figure.
"Hmm!"
Ghost man Chu Xun gave a grunt from his nose, which counted as a response, cavalierly glancing, with his bell-like big eyes, at the green-haired man next to him, without too much reverence.
Fierce ghosts have always been bold and fearless. If Chen Baimao himself were here, this ghost man Chu Xun wouldn't dare be so presumptuous.
