บท 238: 8-5

Yu Qingyu was sitting cross-legged in the dark, on a pillow, on the cold basement floor. The place was eerily quiet, save for occasional gurgling from the pipes, or faint footsteps coming from the first floor above. 

He was so tense, that when all of a sudden, he heard a soft, faint rustling, he jumped straight onto his feet, drawing a talisman, ready to attack. He stood in an offensive position, his legs spread out, his knees slightly bent… 

But nothing happened. There was no more sound, only his heavy breathing. No other presence, no movement. None of the talismans he placed on the walls light up.

With his heart thumping loudly in his chest, he grabbed a flashlight, which was hanging by his waist. He gulped, placing his finger on the switch… And turned it on.