"Where did you take Jinghua?!"
BANG!!!!
The sharp sound extinguished like a candle flame, as Beichuan Si retracted the pitch-black hammer, looking at the malevolent spirit whose head had been completely smashed and blown apart. He calmly uttered, "You've got the wrong person."
Jinghua...? Who exactly is that?
Beichuan Si couldn't be bothered with the other, quickly returning to the spot he had just been standing.
The dead leaves had been brushed away, revealing what was hidden beneath.
It was a photograph.
A photo encased in a gelatin silver print.
Beichuan Si picked up the photograph and inspected it closely.
The photo showed a family of three.
A relatively young-looking man and a woman, holding their young daughter's hand, smiling at the camera.
This was undoubtedly a happy and harmonious family.
However—
"The mark of the zhū?" Beichuan Si scrutinized the man and woman in the photo.
On their wrists, a bright red mark was clearly visible.
