Wang Hao ignored Lin Yiyi's question, his eyes narrowed slightly, like a sword about to be drawn from its sheath, and he stared intently straight ahead.
The figure stood with its back to Wang Hao, long hair fluttering, and a slender figure, resembling a frail willow in the breeze, seemingly ready to be blown away at any moment.
A cold wind suddenly rose, howling and drifting back and forth in the empty valley, like a young widow weeping beneath the moon.
The silent, deserted mountain path, the sudden appearance of a figure, the whistling cold wind… it really had the feel of a horror movie.
Lin Yiyi was somewhat nervous, her little fists clenched tightly, and with a trembling voice, she called out to the figure in front, "Hey, are you human or ghost? What are you doing standing here in the middle of the night?"
Lin Yiyi asked three times in a row, but the figure, as if hearing nothing at all, remained motionless, standing quietly in the same spot.
