"Welcome home!"
The voice that reached his eardrums was deep and eerie, carrying a chilling malice, like a cold snake sliding down his spine, causing Yang Tuo's heart to tighten suddenly, a wave of coldness rushing from his feet to his head.
Yang Tuo: "???"
The rotten touch, the pitch-black palm, the eerie voice... Have ghost stories come true?
His scalp tingled, his heart pounded like a drum, filled with dread and terror.
He quickly turned his head to look down the stairs, only to find it empty, not a trace of Feng Yuhuai to be seen.
"Did she leave me and run away?!!!"
A wave of anger, fear, and resentment surged in his heart, as unstoppable as a mountain torrent or tempest.
Yang Tuo's Adam's apple moved with difficulty as he wanted to call for help, but his throat seemed to be gripped tightly by an invisible hand, producing only a faint wheeze.
