“What did you find?”
Shen Weiran opened the door and walked inside. The woman in white followed behind him, closing the door behind her to prevent the landlady from crawling up to the third floor for a surprise attack.
The room was filled with an oppressive, suffocating atmosphere. The floor was scattered with Hell money, and the walls were stained with viscous red liquid and covered in claw marks. On the bed lay a bright red floral quilt, which had accumulated a thick layer of dust.
It looked as though it had not been used in a long time.
He Yuput sat on a chair, reached out to grab a piece of paper from the table, and walked over to Shen Weiran to hand it to him. “Take a look at this. It is the death certificate the hospital issued for the little ghost girl.”
Shen Weiran took the paper and carefully examined the information on it. “Tsk, you are right. The person on this is also called He Xiao’e, but why is there such a large X crossed out over it?”