'If this Vampire Clan's Ancestor resurrects and descends into my body,'
'will I still be me?'
Xiao Cangqing had never feared death,
but he was terrified of his body being inherited and carried on by another being.
The pride buried deep in Xiao Cangqing's heart would never allow such a thing to happen.
In the boundless, dark abyss, every inch of space seemed steeped in the ink of despair,
where not even a shadow of light could be found.
In the suffocating depths of this darkness, a strange light quietly emerged.
It was a pair of blood-red eyes, like solidified lava, gleaming with a sinister and cold light;
they locked onto Xiao Cangqing's form, closing in step by step, carrying with them an inescapable aura of death.
As the phantom approached, Xiao Cangqing's senses were infinitely amplified,
and he could clearly feel the tension and oppression permeating the air.
