This act... impressive!
Yi Lin secretly gave a thumbs-up to Brother Jian.
For this kind of impromptu performance, Brother Jian was indeed the right choice.
No script, no lines, no rehearsal; he was a born show-off.
Yi Lin pressed his right hand against his forehead.
The dead skin on his forehead suddenly turned grayish-white from its skin tone, rapidly spreading down to his jaw.
The dead skin transformed into an eerie mask.
In the blink of an eye, Yi Lin's face was covered with a chilling bone-colored faceguard.
The pale faceguard completely concealed his facial features, leaving just three holes at the eyes and mouth.
The twisted, elongated holes resembled a horrified crying face.
Even Jian Nanchun, who knew it was an act, felt a chill run down his back at the sudden appearance of Yi Lin's mask; the more he looked, the more eerie it seemed, and his scalp tingled with cold sweat.
A thought involuntarily struck him:
