Both start in hell: but their talents are multiplied a hundredfold.

The wind came strangely; it was clearly a night wind, yet it carried a faint, cold fragrance, unlike the scent of flowers, but rather like the perfumed scent often used by women in their boudoirs, only this fragrance was shrouded in a lingering sense of decay.

The candle flame flickered violently, almost going out.

Ning Caichen subconsciously turned around and saw a hand.

A hand, as white as frost, with nails painted bright red, peeked in through the crack in the door.

The fingers were extremely long and soft, as if they had no bones, prying open the door panel segment by segment. Next came a pale white arm, then half a fragrant shoulder, and finally a face that looked unreal in the candlelight.

The woman was about twenty years old and was extremely alluring.

Beneath her willow-leaf eyebrows were a pair of expressive eyes, their gazes seemingly hiding hooks as they moved. Her nose was straight and delicate, and her lips were a vibrant red, like blood.

She wore a light gauze dress, the front half-open, revealing a large expanse of snow-white skin. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she walked barefoot on the ground, a string of silver bells tied around her ankles, making a soft tinkling sound with each step.

"Young Master," she said, her voice soft and sweet, as if it had been soaked in a jar of honey.

"Isn't it scary for you to be here all alone in the middle of the night, young master?"

Ning Caichen was so frightened that he took a step back and bumped his lower back on the offering table.

He was about to say something when he suddenly remembered Yan Chixia's instructions: do not open the door and do not answer.

He suddenly covered his mouth.

Upon seeing this, the female ghost's eyes flashed with surprise, but then she laughed again.

She approached gracefully, each step exuding charm, her gauze dress swaying with her movements, subtly outlining her exquisite curves.

The female ghost approached Ning Caichen, extended her icy fingers, and gently scraped his cheek.

"Young master, don't be afraid. I really can't bear to leave you, seeing how handsome you are." She brought her red lips close to Ning Caichen's ear, her breath as fragrant as orchids.

"Aren't you lonely out here in the middle of nowhere, young master?"

Ning Caichen froze, his eyes closed, unable to look at her, repeatedly chanting, "Amitabha, Amitabha, Amitabha..."

When the female ghost saw him like this, she was first taken aback, then covered her mouth with her sleeve and tilted her head back to let out a soft laugh.

The laughter was sweet and smooth, echoing endlessly in the empty west wing, indescribably charming.

"What an interesting scholar." She stopped laughing, but a hint of amusement, like a cat playing with a mouse, appeared in her eyes.

"I like you the most when you're like this."

Before he finished speaking, a gust of cold wind suddenly rose, and the candlelight went out with a "poof".

In the darkness, the female ghost threw herself at Ning Caichen.

In the next room, Yan Chixia rolled over, clutching his wine gourd, and muttered a sigh, "Good advice is useless against a damned devil."

"Kid, run away after you defeat that female ghost."

"All I can do is block the thousand-year-old tree demon behind you."

Unlike the original movie "A Chinese Ghost Story", the Tree Demon Granny did not make a three-point agreement with Yan Chixia, but only devoured the essence and blood of evil people and lewd people in the past.

The best Yan Chixia could do in this place was to keep an eye on the tree demon and her female ghosts, making Lanruo Temple a cage to trap the demons and prevent them from causing harm to the human world.

"Oh my god!!!"

The female ghost made strange noises!

Yan Chixia suddenly opened his eyes wide. He sensed a violent fluctuation coming from the next room and heard some strange noises.

This unrestrained, bearded man's lips twitched slightly, as if he felt that youth was indeed a privilege.

For a female ghost to make such a sound, that kid who just flew into Lanruo Temple must be that powerful.

It's really hard to tell.

Yan Chixia still had the mind to sigh, because Ning Caichen had cultivated himself, so even if the female ghost absorbed some of his yang energy and essence, it wouldn't matter.

What he was most wary of at that moment was the thousand-year-old tree demon that could appear at any moment.

Yan Chixia shook his head and was about to close his eyes again when suddenly his brows furrowed sharply.

Again.

Outside the west wing, the cold wind suddenly intensified.

Three white figures emerged from the dense forest behind Lanruo Temple at an astonishing speed, leaving three long afterimages in mid-air before crashing straight into the broken door of the west wing.

The one in the lead, dressed in white with long, flowing hair and a stunningly beautiful, aloof face, was none other than Nie Xiaoqian, the most capable female ghost under the command of the Tree Demon Granny.

"Three more went in," Yan Chixia muttered to himself, counting on his fingers.

He smacked his lips, placed the wine gourd on his lap, and his expression became somewhat subtle.

This was the first time he had ever seen such a spectacle in all the time he had lived at Lanruo Temple.

For ordinary passing merchants, one female ghost is enough to drain their life essence, and two would be considered a great threat from the Tree Demon Granny.

What does it mean that there are four female ghosts?

As he was pondering this, a strange noise suddenly came from the west wing.

First came a scream, not the kind of affected, coquettish chuckle, but a genuine, shaky scream.

Then another sound followed.

Then the third and fourth sounds rang out in succession, the four female voices mingling together, rising and falling, high and low, forming a continuous melody.

"Oh my god!!!"

Yan Chixia's eyes widened suddenly.

The sound came from the west wing, penetrating the thin earthen wall and clearly reaching his ears.

Her voice trembled with panting, and there were a few indistinct, coquettish groans, as if several women were begging for mercy and laughing at the same time.

"what?"

Yan Chixia's lips twitched slightly.

The sounds piled up in layers, rising and falling, like a poorly sung female chorus.

Waves surged out from the broken windows of the west wing, echoing back and forth in the empty halls of Lanruo Temple.

"Oh my god! Young master, no!"

"Oh my god! Not there!"

"Young master, spare my life!"

Just as Yan Chixia was about to get up, he seemed to be frozen in place.

For the first time, a complex expression, somewhere between shock and disbelief, appeared on his bearded face.

"Just who is this kid? How come he's so powerful?"

He put down his wine gourd, subconsciously reached out to touch the hilt of the broadsword on his back, then withdrew his hand.

No, what would be the point of rushing over there now?

What if the scholar wasn't fighting a female ghost?

But this sound is so strange.

Yan Chixia had roamed the martial world for decades and had seen all sorts of things.

But he had never seen such a strange scene before.

Another commotion erupted in the west wing. The window frame was banged on loudly, and a pale hand emerged from the paper window, its five fingers outstretched and grabbing wildly in the air. Then, it was suddenly pulled back by an invisible force.

Then came a continuous stream of "Oh ho ho ho ho" sounds.

Yan Chixia got up, plopped down on the straw mat, tilted his head back, picked up the gourd, and took a big gulp of wine. He then vigorously wiped the wine stains off his beard.

"You little bastard," he muttered to himself, "you've got guts."

He closed his eyes again, trying to shift his attention away from the commotion next door, focusing all his mind on the dark, dense forest behind Lanruo Temple.

There, an immense, suffocating demonic aura was slowly surging, like a giant python coiled underground, gradually awakening.

The Tree Demon Granny has arrived.

Meanwhile, Shen Jue, far away outside Lanruo Temple, lay on his side, propping his head up and laughing loudly.