In the imperial city of the Great Ming Kingdom, a black wind blew and there was a deathly silence.
Donghuang Ziyou was wearing a purple-black dress.
In the dark, she looked like a graceful and noble purple rose.
She added a strange beauty to the austere and gloomy Imperial City.
Donghuang Ziyou walked slowly to the entrance of the palace.
Not far behind her, there were a few ancient dry wells.
Suddenly, sticky blood silently appeared.
Before long, seven to eight disheveled old men in tattered black clothes climbed out of the dry well.
They stood by the well, their faces covered in blood.
They held fresh hearts in their hands and stared at Donghuang Ziyou's back while smiling.
Terrifying killing intent quickly spread out from their bodies. They turned into black shadows on the ground and rushed towards Donghuang Ziyou.
"Hmph." Donghuang Ziyou's beautiful eyes turned cold.