Pei Ye set down her ballpoint pen.
"Why are you here instead of staying in the morgue?"
She looked up, completely unsurprised to see a familiar figure—the young man in a hospital gown, Ying Lin.
His fine hair fell across his forehead. Even his deathly pale face and pitch-black, eerie eyes couldn't hide his handsome features. Silver-rimmed glasses rested on his tall nose, making him look all the more refined and elegant. It made one inevitably pity that he had died at such a beautiful age.
He spoke slowly, "The hospital morgue is too deserted. There isn't even a single ghost to talk to."
"Can't your subordinates chat with you to relieve your boredom? Like that female ghost, for instance."
The young man shook his head. "They're all afraid of me. They're terrified I might eat them. It's very boring."
Pei Ye looked at the open notebook beside her hand. She had drawn a talisman on every page with her ballpoint pen. This was the fruit of her afternoon's labor.
