The ghostly essence dissipated like fog, and the Hun’ce soldiers disappeared without a trace; a few shadows of varying lengths appeared on the stone wall—venerable deities, ghosts, birds and beasts, and mortals, each portrayed extremely impartially by the light, the lacquer-like blackness flattening everything. Everyone gazed at Li Shiyi, holding entirely different thoughts as they analysed her reaction. But Li Shiyi only blinked, and let out a single exclamation: “Oh.” She didn’t have anything else to say. She accepted this unusual identity in an indifferent manner, lacking even a single superfluous interest to offer, only feeling a bit of a sense of being out of sorts; this sense of being out of sorts truly wasn’t on the two characters of Fujun, but rather had its origin in A Luo’s deferential kneeling motion. A Luo rose perceptively, and Li Shiyi shifted her neck; her shoulders still ached a bit, and waved in a practised manner, beckoning Song Shijiu to her side, grabbing her hand a...