Chapter 113 The Opposite Bank and the City of Decline

Linhe City was enshrouded in the darkness all the time. In the bleak darkness, occasionally, Yellow Spring surged and caused the wind of aura, which blew above the city drily and gloomily, seeming to wash something. The scarlet moon seemed to have shone for thousands of years and the snow among the slots of the roofing tiles had formed piles of ice. The crystals within the ice reflected the moonlight and never melted in the cold world.

In an old house, the door damaged by worms was pushed open and a crying boy ran out. He fell to the ground quickly, his face full of bloodstains. He wiped his face and there was still hard rice at the corners of his mouth.

In the room, a woman slowly stuck out her head and wanted to call the boy back but she couldn’t make any sound. With her long hair scattered, she held a handful of yellow raw rice, her skeleton-like face buried in the long face. It was difficult to tell whether she was a human or a ghost.

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