Li Chunfeng stroked his hand, facing dozens of white skeletons, then wrapped one arm around his waist while lightly flicking the corner of his sensual lower lip with the other. Motionless, he fell into deep thought, his lively eyes occasionally casting glances at the withered bones.
"Damn it, don't tell me they want to rip off the top of my skull too. I've no wish to die a resentful ghost here."
With absolute solemnity, Li Chunfeng was actually imagining the scene of his own gruesome death—it was impossible to tell whether he was genuinely terrified or just putting on an act.
Chapter 149