The lamp, not biased or oblique, happened to be lit in Qingming Ju.

He lived in this house for two years.

"No! not this house, I live in Jincheng!"

Through the window paper, Wang Zimo saw that there were many people in the room, and he was no longer familiar with one person in the middle of the term!

"It's Daji!" said the prince, running out with joy in his heart.

He walked this road countless times, running and running, and the prince involuntarily stopped.

In the Baiyun Temple of Jincheng, opposite the Qingming Ju is the Mingbao room. The pattern of Ming Baoju is very soothing, giving people the feeling of "respecting immortals, and the avenue is ethereal".

And here, although the appearance is exactly the same as Mingbaoju, it always feels very depressing.

This oppression does not come from the darkness of the miasma, but from the layout and architectural form of this Baiyun Temple.

Standing in the White Cloud Temple, it is like being in a ghost town.

What is even more terrifying is the faint vibration under the soles of the feet, like the sound of heavy breathing, and like a large pulse, and the low rhythm is sonorous and powerful.

Wang Zimo suddenly became nervous, his hairs stood up involuntarily, and he pushed open the door of the house with the light on.

"Squeak~quack!"

The wooden door sends out the joy of welcoming the owner home.

Wang Zimo had just poked his head into the house, when suddenly a demonic wind rushed in from the top of his head, and blew out the lights with a bang.

Then Wang Zimo felt his head sink and lay on the ground with a "poof".

There is no sun or moon in the miasma, and even the day is as dark as night.

The prince lay on the ground for an unknown amount of time, and when he woke up, he was very strange: "After quenching my body, my intuition is a hundred times sharper than before, why was it that someone slapped me?"

Before he could figure it out, his body was suddenly lifted up by a huge force.

"Sneer, sneer......"

With the sound of a big saw, his vision widened little by little, and Wang Zimo found that he was actually lifted to the roof.

"Whew, bang, bang!"

There was a sudden strong wind in the yard, and the doors and windows were slamming!

At this moment, the candlelight in the house was rekindled, and a dark shadow dangled around the candlestick. From that burly figure, the prince was silently sure that this person was Daji.

"Daji!"

The prince meditated on screaming, but found that his throat was sealed.

"Knock! knock!"

There was a knock on the door of the house.

The prince hung silently on the ridge of the beam, and looked up just in time to see a sallow face, leaning against the window, staring straight into the room.

The dark eyes have no whites, as if they have overturned an inkwell, and they are connected with the withered hair, revealing the gurgling cold and gloomy.

That face is latent in the darkness, like a ghost condensed in the middle of the night, which makes people tremble!

"There are ghosts!"

The prince silently shouted in his heart.

So far, the only thing that has made the prince believe in him is his own brother.

"But why did the big man hang me?"

Wang Zimo saw Wang Ji quietly hiding behind the door, and was ready to repeat his old trick to give the evil ghost a dull stick.

Who knew that the man pushed the door straight in, as if he had eyes on his head, and stopped the stuffy stick in Wang Ji's hand with a single block.

In the darkness, the man's fingers shone with a thin light, and he slammed into Wang Ji's shoulder with lightning speed.

"Mingbao!"

A cool wind poured in through the doorway, enveloping the thick fog outside and instantly filling the room.

Wang Ji's figure was immediately obscured by the dense fog, and in the blink of an eye, Wang Zimo instantly caught it, and couldn't help but be surprised: "The grimace outside just now is Mingbao?"

"What the hell is going on?"

The sound of the door closing reached my ears.

The wet mist clings to the tables and chairs, and in a moment the vision widens.

In the haze, a shadow sneakily clinged to the ground, and the prince craned his neck to take a closer look, and suddenly found a naked woman carrying a coffin as if looking for something.

Wang Zimo couldn't help but shudder, his heart instantly rose to his throat, and his teeth trembled when he closed his mouth.

Bai Huahua's body is extremely thin, and what is even more strange is that she is not holding her skin to her bones, but her flesh is loose and hanging. It was as if a plump woman had been drained of flesh and blood, leaving only a skeleton and a human skin.

A faint green light came out of her sunken eyes, and in a moment the woman had white hair. She raised her head and opened her mouth, and her two fangs burst out, and there was a "squeak, squeak" sound in her throat.

"White-haired corpse slave!"

Regarding the matter of the corpse slave, it was described in detail in the "Book of Heaven".

Corpse slaves are also known as corpse bearers. Driven by psychic corpses to capture the living, the souls of the living will be sealed by the spirit corpses, and they will be slaves for life.

The primary corpse slave is covered with black hair, and the more advanced ones are green hair, white hair, purple hair, and red hair.

Red-haired corpse slaves are rare, and their strength is comparable to that of a golden immortal, and their owners can be imagined.

Legend has it that during the Kingdom of God, there was a red-haired corpse slave in Kyoto. She was dressed in red brocade clothes, stepped on auspicious clouds and fell from the sky, pointed straight at the imperial city, took off the emperor's head in the thousands of strict guards, and walked away.

Why did this white-haired corpse slave come to Baiyun Temple now?

What was she looking for?

Deep in his heart, Wang Zimo has already regarded Baiyun Temple and this place as his home. And at home, he had never been so scared. No matter what happens, home is the safest place, always has been.

At this moment, he is on the rooftop, but he is looking at this home from another angle.

The tables were no longer high, the chairs were no longer square, and even the oil lamp illuminated only a small place, dim and yellow, as if it could be blown out by the wind that swept in from outside the house.

The prince was silent for a moment, his eyes were round, and he wanted to scream but didn't dare to scream, for fear of alarming the woman below to put him in a coffin and take him away.

Could it be that this corpse slave was chased from a mass grave?

The corpse slave is a corpse line, and like the Phantom, he is not afraid of spells.

Only those who have learned the method of exorcism can dare to fight against it head-on. Otherwise, you can only go head-to-head with them.

Fight the dead......

The prince didn't dare to think about it, closed his lips and teeth trembled, and was afraid that the sound of "bang" would be too loud, so he quickly pursed his mouth and bit his lip.

The woman lay on the ground and spun around for a long time, and finally left angrily with the coffin on her back.

Wang Zimo hurriedly breathed a sigh of relief, and the grievances in his stomach suddenly poured out, gushing out with hot tears.

Who knew that the corpse slave was cunning, and he appeared at the door quietly, shrugging his nose and sniffing around, as if he had discovered something.

The temperature plummeted, and in the blink of an eye, a layer of hoarfrost was covered.

The goose-yellow candlelight seemed to be unable to withstand the sudden change in temperature, and suddenly shook into an inky blue color, dying in the cold.

Wang Zimo hurriedly held his breath, but he couldn't hold back the falling tears!

"Toot, yes!"

Crystal tears rolled in the air, reflecting Wang Zimo's panic.

It almost wiped the long ends of the corpse slave's hair and fell, and was torn apart by the splash of the coffin she was carrying, and it also shattered the pounding heart.

The corpse slave raised his head suddenly, revealing his bloodless face, and his dark eyes were like two vortices, directly penetrating Wang Zimo's eyes and piercing into the heart that kept hitting his chest.

Time seems to stand still.

There was a chilling smell in the air.

At this moment, Wang Zimo really figured out that the face that was pasted on the window just now was not Mingbao, but the corpse slave in front of her! As soon as Mingbao came, she disappeared into the black fog.

"Devouring ——!"

The corpse slave pouted, his fangs glowing yellow in the candlelight. She turned her head away and stared at Wang Zimo, slowly removed the coffin on her back, and lay on all fours on the ground. The muscles of the hind legs jumped and jumped, apparently ready to leap upwards.

"Gollum, Gollum!"

Afraid?

If you're scared, you'll have to wait until you die!

At this time, the prince was surprisingly calm. He pursed his mouth, his hands snapping behind his back as he looked around the room, looking for the long, straight-backed knife he had tricked from Han Dudu.

There is no vitality in the sea of qi.

After stepping into the Liangyi Holy Realm, some of the Yin and Yang Yuan Power that had been finally refined was also consumed by the Eye Opening Method.

However, at this time, Wang Zimo clearly felt that a stream of heat rushed from his lower abdomen to his right index finger, and the room was brightly lit in an instant.

Deep in the miasma.

Outside the Baiyun Temple, there are two places, one south and one north. Mingbao and Dai Xiaomo raised their heads at the same time, and they all looked at the light of the earth-shattering ghosts and gods.

"Not good!"

"Bastard, this temple can't be demolished!"

Mingbao stopped, stared at Wang Ji who was getting farther and farther away, couldn't help but shout and scold, and hurriedly turned around and ran back to the Taoist temple.

Dai Xiaomo reacted faster than Mingbao, and almost the moment the prince silently used his sky-breaking finger, he shook off Mo Hongyan and Han Dudu, and rushed out alone.

"Boom!"

The prince silently came out, the air around him was quickly ignited, and the blazing heat directly burned the rope that bound his hands into wilting powder, rubbing the left crotch of the corpse slave and stabbing the coffin into a hole.

"Poof!"

A puff of white smoke wafted out of the hole, accompanied by a faint smell of meat.

"Crunch, crunch!"

Followed by a series of creaking sounds from the Aoki coffin, as if the overwhelmed wooden square stool under the ass would burst open at any moment