He led the group forward, and after walking only a few hundred meters, he sensed the presence of the Burned-to-Death Ghost.
He pointed at a courtyard by the side of the road.
"Right here. He hasn't gone far."
Wen Yan looked over in that direction. As he drew closer, he didn't even need a warning—he could already faintly hear sounds that were equal parts wailing and oddly pleasurable.
This courtyard seemed to be a farmhouse inn. When they reached the back door of the kitchen, the chaotic sounds inside grew louder. Peeking in through a small window—
He saw a figure, pitch-black and charred all over, twisted into an agonizing pose, burrowing deep into the restaurant's roaring stove, enduring the fierce blaze.
The wailing sounded like someone at a bathhouse, politely asking the masseur if he'd eaten yet.
There was a certain pain and a hot, searing pleasure mixed together.
The Burned-to-Death Ghost howled wantonly inside, not the least bit concerned about being heard.
