บท 770: Massacre

The woman's voice was pleasant and enchanting, like when the fingertips of a maiden caressed one's eardrums and nerves, causing their skin to tingle and burst into gooseflesh.

When Lin Sanjiu heard the singing, an image of two slithery snakes entwining together popped up in her mind. She tried to search through her memory about the song, but her brain was lulled and stupefied by the song. The thought was washed away like smoke dissipated by wind the moment it rose.

She shuffled her feet and trudged forward, her steps heavy as if she was plodding through a mud.

The sun had fully risen, floating coldly in the sky. No matter how long she walked under the sun, it couldn't warm her up.