Fang Zhou subconsciously dug at his ear: "What did you say? Sorry, I must have heard wrong, could you repeat that?"
Ning Caichen could only continue with a cupped fist salute: "I am Ning Caichen, did you hear clearly this time?"
This time it was clear, Fang Zhou instantly gasped in shock.
Could it be that Lanruo Temple actually harbored a Ning Caichen? Could this place be the world of A Chinese Ghost Story—no, wait, a Male Ghost Story?
He couldn't help but ask: "Ning Caichen, why would you hide in such a place full of evil spirits?"
Ning Caichen revealed a bitter smile: "I have been trapped in this damned place for over a year now."
"A year?"
Fang Zhou started, astonished, and couldn't help but take a few good looks at the crude basement. Outside, it was teeming with demons and ghosts, and he couldn't imagine how Ning Caichen, a scholar without the strength to truss a chicken, had managed to survive in this dangerous place.
"Somebody... um, brings me food and drink."