Virgil was stunned for a moment.
Recalling that youthful, flower-like face, he couldn't help but breathe rapidly.
One hand held a communicator.
The other hand clenched the pages of the Light Scripture, crumpling them.
"Yes."
Under the flickering candlelight, the thin man draped in the Holy Robe, bathed in light, spoke softly and slowly: "Believe me, Mr. Zuo. This girl is worth your personal trip."
...
...
Just as Aunt Ai was tiptoeing, pushing open the wooden door, preparing to rest again for a while.
She saw an astonishing scene inside the room—
"Hiss hiss hiss..."
The sound of burning like steam swirled around the ceiling.
The girl curled up on the bed, her pale skin enveloped in swirl after swirl of dark mist... the mist, like a Devil, condensed into a human form, her tender and pitiable face now full of agony, as if trapped in a nightmare.
The mist visible to the naked eye fluttered above the bed.
In this bright church.
