Su Nanzhi was certain that at one moment, these heads truly intended to drag her down and make her one of them—just like those human-hand flowers.
Once she became one of them, she would add to the richness of the evil and malevolent aura here.
Su Nanzhi had been tainted by too many similar auras before; she was prone to become one of them, and once she became an evil ghost, she would undoubtedly possess immense power.
Su Nanzhi stepped on heads and fire, crossing the bridge made of heads without mishap.
Her face was expressionless.
The seven-year-old Su Nanzhi might have been scared, but at eighteen she could no longer afford to be.
She no longer had the luxury of fear between survival and dread; she had already made her decision long ago.
She had to reach the deepest part of the jade mine.
She suspected that this was the true Tomb of Chiyou.
An idea faintly took root in her mind.
