Ye Ling's unexpected visitor was none other than the dozen or so richly dressed young men he had encountered at dusk, that group of idiots who had no clue.
On a narrow mountain path, these fellows walked one by one with their hearts thumping in fear, their faces painted with panic, each holding a dagger that glinted with a cold light.
The "things" they referred to must have been these daggers, and indeed, should they encounter a person, the sharpness of these daggers could easily stab and create a bloody hole.
Cold winds swept by, howling through the woods. After passing through the treetops, there was a kind of eerie scream that made one's hair stand on end.
"Brother Li, let's go back, staying here is really creepy, I'm getting scared."
"That thing, you know, if it doesn't work out, let's go down the mountain and wander somewhere else. Why do I feel like I'm courting death? I don't know if it's just an illusion."
