"What umbrella? What rain?" Sima Ming asked loudly...
Then he fell into a dark daze... Somehow, he suddenly found that he was standing alone in the underground lobby. The whole lobby was filled with clouds of white mist, which looked gloomy against the mist.
"Sima Ming! Sima Ming!" From the fog came a faint call from a man in the woods. Oh my god, it was the strange voice of Zhang Cheng last night.
The voice came from the elevator corridor. Sima Ming involuntarily walked into the corridor in the mist.
When he walked into the corridor, he suddenly saw an oil painting flashing in front of him. With a brush, it flew past him and disappeared into the dark corridor. As it flew over the temple, God, he saw Zhang Cheng's bloody face in the painting. His pale face was screaming at Sima Ming.
