Fang Geyu suddenly said, "This Ying Xiu is not simple; I've never seen anyone able to suppress their emotions so perfectly."
Baili An watched her without speaking.
Fang Geyu scoffed, "Just now he had at least five strong urges to kill, and you, fighting the Ghost just now, are in a weakened state. Yet, he held back and did not make a move. Even at such a time, he still adheres to what he calls the courtesy of a gentleman. I don't know whether to call him stubborn or hypocritical."
Baili An didn't want to discuss Ying Xiu anymore. He glanced at the deep, dense night around them, the fog growing thicker, the mist vast, silence all around.
The figure of Ying Xiu and the others disappeared not far away, their presence no longer detectable.
Clearly, the sudden dense fog within this deserted house was no ordinary mist; Baili An moved his palm, finely sensing it, only to feel that the fog seemed to secretly contain countless ghost techniques that scrambled the sense of direction.
