The chest was covered densely with countless wounds, some new and some old. The old ones had already formed scars, while the new ones still had fresh red flesh coated with ointment.
"I can't sleep well every night. As soon as I close my eyes, I dream of that female ghost coming to claim my life! Begging doesn't work, cursing doesn't work, I can't drive her away, scare her off, or plead her to leave..." Li Guohua trembled, his face mournful, "She, she just wants my life!"
Chen Yan frowned and leaned in closely to examine the wounds on Li Guohua's body, all clearly left by self-harm with a sharp weapon.
The resentment of the female ghost wasn't strong enough anymore; the power to confuse people in nightmares was fading. Otherwise, Li Guohua wouldn't have survived until today.
This Li Guohua had nerves of steel, recklessly unaware of the danger, that a mere mortal dared to dabble in matters concerning ghosts and deities.
