Chapter 110

In the West District of Canglang City, the reputation of the "Ghost Market" was by no means undeserved. The night sky pressed down heavily like a rag soaked in ink, swallowing the last lingering traces of daylight in this area. Only a scattering of dim, flickering lights leaked through the gaps of crooked doors and windows barely patched with tattered felt. They looked eerily like ghost fires drifting among desolate graves; far from illuminating the path ahead, they cast twisted, grotesque shadows onto the narrow alleys, which were filthy with mud, animal waste, and rotting garbage, adding an extra layer of gloom.