Yang Cheng's gaze passed over those ghost corpses and landed on the black figure behind them, it was Yin Wujiang.
He wore a black robe, a black eyepatch over his left eye, and his right eye flickered with a ghostly green light. His entire being was shrouded in a layer of faint black mist, looking like a demon crawling out of hell.
"He's here."
Yang Cheng immediately got up and put on his clothes, his eyes fixed tightly on that figure.
Feng Jiuge hurriedly put on her clothes as well, shrank into his embrace, and looked outside through the crack in the window, gasping sharply.
In the moonlight, Yin Wujiang walked slowly in the graveyard, with three ghost corpses following around him like faithful servants, swaying as they went.
Every time he passed a grave, he would stop, raise his hand for a wave, and a black mist would surge from his palm, drilling into the earth.
