Indeed, Xiang Fengchen's warning before he left was not wrong. The closer to the end, the more troublesome these Ghost Substitutes became, and he almost fell victim to one.
Taking out half of the bone ashes from the paper package, he forcefully tossed them upwards, and indeed, a shadowy figure appeared in mid-air.
It was a servant dressed in grey, with a rather thin build, legs hung straight in the air, dangling weakly, with taut insteps and toes pointed downwards.
The person's head drooped straight down, combined with those bulging blood-red eyes on a face that refused to close in death, just looking at it made one feel suffocated.
The dead-silent complexion was filled with spite and venom, as if it wasn't enough for him to die here; he had to drag everyone who came here down with him in death.
This was another Ghost Substitute. Yang Xiao did not find it surprising at all, the true Ancestor was still hidden somewhere in this attic.
