"Xiao Yu, she really is strange, that smile on the mask was eerily unsettling in this scorching summer heat," Song Yingqing said, her voice low, as goosebumps covered her skin.
Yet there was not a trace of fear on Nan Yu's face, instead, she stared intently at the mask, her eyes brimming with a hint of nostalgia.
She bit her lower lip until it bled, tasting the blood in her mouth, before she slowly began to speak.
"Yingqing, she is my senior, Gu Chuxin."
All eyes were on Gu Chuxin near the doorway; no one noticed Song Yingqing and Nan Yu, nor heard their conversation.
Song Yingqing quickly pressed her, "Xiao Yu, are you sure?"
Nan Yu didn't hesitate.
"The mask on her face is the same one my master wore when he practiced medicine under the name 'Ghost Doctor.'"
Her voice became hoarse, as if she was suppressing some pain.
Song Yingqing stood there, stunned.
