The ancient return was exposed by his sister's live stream.

The last flight of stairs leading to the thirty-first floor was blocked by a fog thicker, darker, and heavier than before. Something was moving in the fog—not a wandering spirit, but something larger, fiercer, and more malevolent.

Chen Hao stopped and turned to look at Chen Siyao.

"This is the last floor." His voice was soft. "The things inside are different from the ones before."

Chen Siyao gripped the paulownia wood sword tightly: "I know."

Are you scared?

"I'm not afraid." She looked at the black mist, her eyes more determined than ever before. "Sister Xue is still inside. I'm going to save her."

Chen Hao looked at her, a slight smile playing on his lips. He said nothing more, turned, and walked into the black mist. Chen Siyao and Yang Wanqing followed.

At that moment, downstairs in the building, Qian Hong, along with a group of security guards and rescue personnel who had rushed to the scene, stood guard at the entrance of the building, watching the live broadcast. The weight that had been hanging over his heart finally lifted.

He originally thought Chen Siyao was just an ordinary girl who couldn't possibly deal with these evil spirits.

Unexpectedly, she actually managed to overcome all the obstacles and eliminate so many vengeful ghosts, which made her admire Chen Hao even more, and she was also secretly glad that she had not offended this unassuming god.

Thirty-first floor.

The corridor was longer and darker than the two floors below. All the lights were off, and the emergency exit signs were also out; only the emergency lights at the end of the corridor emitted a faint, almost extinguished glow.

There were no scattered items on the floor, no bloodstains, no scratches—nothing at all. The corridor was spotless, as if it had just been swept, but this cleanliness was unnatural, as if something had wiped everything away.

At the end of the corridor, in front of the last door, stood a person.

The man had his back to them, wearing a wrinkled suit, with messy hair and hunched shoulders that looked as if something was pressing down on them. He held up a black banner, the blood-red runes on its surface writhing like living things and emitting sounds like a baby crying.

There was a soft knocking coming from inside the door.

"Is anyone there? Help!"

Song Xinxue's voice came through the crack in the door, trembling with tears, but still relatively calm. Chen Siyao's heart clenched.

"Sister Xue, don't be afraid, we'll get you out right away!" Chen Siyao shouted at the door, her tone firm. Then she turned to look at the Ghost King, her eyes filled with anger, "You wicked thing, release Sister Xue right now!"

The man slowly turned around. "Heh heh heh... A few greenhorns dare to ruin my good time?"

His face was deathly pale, devoid of color, with sunken eyes and purple lips.

There was a red line at the corner of his left eye, crawling down to his forehead like a snake slithering under his skin. But his eyes were bright—not the bright of a living person, but a light that seemed to be ignited from within by something, a light that didn't belong to him.

He looked at Chen Siyao and smiled. His smile stretched to his ears, revealing his blackened gums.

The Ghost King chuckled, looking at Chen Siyao with disdain, and brandished the Soul-Gathering Banner in his hand: "Release her? This body is deeply obsessed, determined to possess her. I will grant its wish. As for you, now that you're here, don't even think about leaving. You'll become nourishment for my Soul-Gathering Banner, allowing my cultivation to advance to a higher level!"

The voice didn't sound human. It sounded like it was coming from very, very deep underground, with echoes and countless overlapping tones, as if many mouths were speaking at the same time.

The temperature in the corridor dropped by more than ten degrees, and the breath turned into white mist.

In the live stream, more than 30 million people heard this sound simultaneously, and the chat froze for a full three seconds:

[I am Ying Zheng: Holy crap... what is that sound?]

[Yaoyao's Little Red Riding Hood: I got goosebumps.]

[Welcoming the Year of the Horse: Is that voice coming from hell?]

[Even more cost-effective: Stop talking, stop talking, I'm getting chills.]

[Sister Qin and Xiaoyu: Yaoyao, be careful! This thing is unusual!]

Chen Siyao did not retreat. She gripped the peach wood sword tightly, staring at the thing—the Ghost King.

Fan Hai's body was possessed by the Ghost King, but he was still alive; his eyes were still moving, his lips were still trembling. On that pale, distorted face, she could see fear. Fan Hai's fear.

The Ghost King lunged at her. His movements were so fast they were invisible, leaving only a black afterimage in the air. Chen Siyao had no time to think; instinctively, she raised her sword to block. The paulownia wood sword struck the Ghost King's claws, producing a loud metallic clang and sparks flying.

Chen Siyao was knocked back three steps, her arm going numb.

"What strength!" She shook her hands and regained her balance.

The Ghost King pounced again. This time, Chen Siyao didn't take the attack head-on. Instead, she dodged to the side, the tip of her sword slicing across the Ghost King's arm. Golden light exploded, and the Ghost King screamed as black smoke billowed from his arm.

But the wound healed quickly—the black mist surged in, filling the wound as if nothing had happened.

"Yaoyao!" Yang Wanqing stamped her feet anxiously from behind, "Are you alright?"

"It's okay!" Chen Siyao gritted her teeth and rushed forward again.

One sword, two swords, three swords. Each sword left a wound on the Ghost King, each wound emitting black smoke, yet each wound was healing.

The Ghost King grew increasingly violent, its attacks becoming faster and fiercer. Chen Siyao began to struggle; her movements were no longer as fluid as before, and her breathing became erratic.

"Little girl, is that all you've got?" The Ghost King chuckled and swung a claw at her. Chen Siyao couldn't dodge in time and could only block with her sword, staggering backward and nearly falling.

"Yao Yao!" Yang Wanqing tried to rush over.

"Don't come any closer!" Chen Siyao shouted, straightening up and raising her sword again. Her arm was trembling, but she did not back down.

The Ghost King pounced again. This time, he was faster and fiercer. Chen Siyao gritted her teeth and swung her sword to meet him. The golden light and black mist collided, producing a deafening roar.

She was knocked back again, this time five steps, her back hitting the wall.

His expression was solemn as he pondered how to deal with this ghost king.