A raging fire burned, filling the air with an indescribable scent.
Xia Zhihuai covered his mouth and nose with his hands, pulling Wanwan away to a safe distance.
From the black smoke emerged a wisp of wandering gloom. Wanwan immediately rushed forward, grabbing hold of the escaping specter.
“Caught it,” she exclaimed with delight, clutching the twisting gloom in her hand. Her round cat-like eyes sparkled as she presented her catch to Xia Zhihuai.
“Brother, look.”
Xia Zhihuai rubbed his nose, looking puzzled at the small black eel-like thing in his sister’s hand. “What is this?”
“A curse hidden inside a doll,” Wanwan replied.
“A curse?” Xia Zhihuai shivered unexpectedly. “Wasn’t it said that this doll has been stealing my luck?”
“Yes, but that scoundrel who gave you that cursed gift really dislikes you,” Wanwan sighed.
“He added an extra curse to it.”