Since he had opened his eyes in the hospital up until now, Han Fei felt joy for the first time.
Even he didn't know why, but seeing the change in the face of the Wronged Dead in the taxi had filled him with a sense of calm and stability.
"Did I used to have some kind of special profession?"
"You do look pretty fit, I feel it's not impossible. Why do you suddenly ask this?"
Han Fei and Little Jia exchanged a glance, "Is it possible that I was particularly good at appeasing dead souls and transcending ghosts?"
"That is quite special." Little Jia touched his thinning hair and said no more, carefully holding the props used for the Resurrection Ceremony.
Turning around, Han Fei looked back at the car. After the boy's body was pushed away, it had knocked over a roadside garbage heap, and blood and Corpse Oil from his body splattered everywhere. But before long, he got up again, chasing the taxi like a tireless machine.
"Still chasing?"
