As dusk drifted over the flying eaves of the Ghost Workshop, Pi Yanlin lay sprawled on the stone steps of the back alley.
The residual heat from the bluestone slabs, baked all day by the sun, seeped through his coarse cloth tunic. With one leg crossed over the other, his fingertips absentmindedly rubbed the barbs of the Shadow Hook at his waist—ever since he had acquired this magical artifact, it had pulsed lightly with his heartbeat, as though urging him forward.
"Ding—daily check-in complete." When the System prompt exploded in his sea of consciousness, he was squinting to count the rust spots on the bronze bells at the corner of the eaves.
Chapter 62