Wen Xiao'ai sucked on her bitten finger, frowning, floating in mid-air, watching Wu Zhihan surrounded by a dozen ghost soldiers.
However, these ordinary ghost soldiers were no match for Wu Zhihan, who had become a vengeful ghost incarnate.
As one after another of chilling and ear-piercing ghost cries rang out, dozens of ghost soldiers had already been torn apart by Wu Zhihan.
Wu Zhihan laughed triumphantly toward the sky, the evening wind blowing her loose long hair fiercely, and her deathly pale face without a hint of blood made people fearful.
Wen Xiao'ai knew these ghost soldiers wouldn't be her match.
She was just slightly tired, using these ghost soldiers as a temporary barrier, while she thought of a way to deal with Wu Zhihan.
However, even after Wu Zhihan had torn all those ghost soldiers to shreds, Wen Xiao'ai still couldn't think of a sure method.
