He was a breeze, a breeze of freedom, capable of shuttling between the real world and another.
So, you can't... stop me!
Xu Xiangyang glared at the Ghost House Elder beneath his feet. Clenching his teeth, he employed the techniques he had used in Teacher Yang's inner world, immersed himself in his thoughts, and tried earnestly to extend his consciousness outwards, transforming it into tendrils.
The air around him, stiff like a solidified gel, finally began to forcibly twist under his will, as if the frozen rivers were beginning to flow again beneath the layers of ice when spring blooms.
Right, on the night when the weirdo invaded the campus—
During the mental battle with the Ghost House Elder, Xu Xiangyang remembered something else. The first time he conducted Spirit Communication with Teacher Yang, that feeling of an electric surge seemed to be a confrontation between consciousnesses as well
