DRIP. DRIP.
It was the sound of water hitting the ground.
Old Mr. Zhou raised his nose and sniffed the air, his gaze falling to Zhang Shan's feet. He couldn't help but break into a grin.
"President Zhang, didn't you just say you were fearless?" he asked. "How come..."
Zhang Shan had lost control of his bladder. A large puddle was spreading at his feet.
"Oh dear, this..." Zhang Shan's face flushed with embarrassment. He quickly shifted his stance and said, "My apologies, how rude of me."
If Old Mr. Zhou hadn't pointed it out, he would have had no idea he had peed himself from fright.
It seems I really overestimated my own courage.
"Is it over now?" Zhang Shan no longer heard the crying and subconsciously assumed the funeral parlor's troubles were over—and that he'd been the one to solve them.
"Let me take a look!" Old Mr. Zhou raised his Compass and checked the needle again.
