Footsteps grew closer. Ye Feiran's beautiful eyes sharpened as she scanned her surroundings, grabbing a hairpin that lay forgotten nearby.,Without delay, Ye Hisheng abruptly sat up, her blood-stained hands striking the burly man's neck with force.,Suddenly, a gust of night wind blew by. Yè Hí Rǎn twitched her nose, a hint of joy appearing in her heart. She took a step and entered the ghost house on the east side of Ghost Street.。