One by one, we walked past us, and our scalps tingled. I opened the third glance and looked at it, and found that everyone was the same, and there was a black soul in their body, but the blind man couldn't sense it in his way. The sound of the flute began to go north, and the flow of people also went north, and they were like detained wandering ghosts, following impermanence, unconsciously conscious. The blind man quietly pulled me, his hands hung down, and he learned the posture of these people.

Chapter 52 of "The Trick Gate": The ghost is being hit by the hand, please wait a moment,

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