"We must leave."
The brocade-clad elder, whom Pei Jing respectfully called Mr. Wan, pondered for a moment before saying quickly, "When the dead borrow the path, evasion is best."
Just as Sun Xinzhi, a Judge of the garrison, was about to ask where to go, he saw Mr. Wan bring his palms together, the fabric of his brocade clothes rustling loudly as an overwhelming Spiritual Power, centered on his gaunt figure, spread out, permeating every corner of the carriage.
"Rise!" Mr. Wan bellowed, veins bulging slightly on his forehead as he used his formidable Telekinesis to lift the entire carriage, intending to move it off the rails.
The carriage floor tilted upwards, and the hanging oil lamps swayed in response, spilling warm oil onto the ground.
