"Overestimating yourself."
The disdainful voice of the female ghost echoed in the shop. It covered its tilted face and looked at Wen Jiaren with two ghastly hollow eye sockets. Its sharp nails pointed at Wen Jiaren, "You little bitch dare to hit me, prepare to die."
With that, the female ghost immediately attacked Wen Jiaren. The originally calm Mu Qian showed a flicker of cold light in his eyes, "Courting death."
As he finished speaking, he raised his palm to strike at the female ghost. Suddenly, a soft fair hand fell on his wrist, pressing his hand down. Then a light, pleasant voice of a woman sounded beside his ear, "Let me do it."
The female ghost was taken aback when she saw Mu Qian. There was a strong oppressive force emanating from him that instilled fear in it. Knowing it was no match for this man, it was about to flee, but Wen Jiaren charged at it.
