Sure, here is the translation:
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However, this journey was perilous, and since Yang Xiao had managed to save his precious daughter, if Yang Xiao had any unfulfilled wishes, he would try his best to help.
In so ways, the Cannibal Buddha and Yang Xiao were of the sa kind; neither liked owing others a favor.
"High Priest, this ti I can’t guarantee I’ll co back alive. If I don’t return, please ensure my friend’s safe return to the country."
Upon hearing this, the Cannibal Buddha frowned slightly, but after a few seconds, his furrowed brow slowly smoothed out, and he nodded, "Alright, I promise you."
"It’s a deal." Yang Xiao extended his hand.
The Cannibal Buddha was taken aback; in the territory of the Esoteric Sect, no one had the qualification to shake hands with him first. In the strict laws of the Esoteric Sect, this action was almost equivalent to overstepping.
However, the Cannibal Buddha unprecedentedly accepted Yang Xiao, extending that rough hand which had once punched out a Demon Sect Vajra, and shook hands with Yang Xiao, "It’s a deal."
"Oh, right, this is for you." Yang Xiao, as if suddenly rembering sothing, took out the Soul-Capturing Mirror and handed it to the Cannibal Buddha, saying seriously: "This is the Magic Artifact of the Mirror Ghost, the one that looks just like , you’ve seen it before, Miss Sutana likes it very much."
Yang Xiao smiled gently, his tone calm and sincere: "You’ve helped us so much, I have nothing else to offer to thank you, please accept it. If I don’t co back, consider it a token for Miss Sutana."
Gazing at the small copper mirror in his hand, the Cannibal Buddha did not refuse. He took hold of the Soul-Capturing Mirror, saying, "I’ll keep it for you, and return it to you when you co back."
After saying this, the Cannibal Buddha turned to leave, as what Yang Xiao needed now was rest.
Having given away the Soul-Capturing Mirror, Yang Xiao had nothing to worry about. After all, this was the territory of the Esoteric Sect, with the Cannibal Buddha and a group of experts present; he didn’t need a Magic Artifact to protect himself. The crisis he now faced was the impending Nightmare World.
"Painted Woman..." Lying on the bed, Yang Xiao repeatedly pondered over these three words in his heart, but even after a long ti, he couldn’t make sense of it, only getting a headache instead.
In fact, he had so things he hadn’t told the Cannibal Buddha; the thod the Cannibal Buddha used to refine a Protective Yin Talisman for him was not feasible because there wasn’t enough ti.
The two to three days that the Cannibal Buddha ntioned entering the Nightmare World was for ordinary people. But he, Yang Xiao, was not ordinary; he estimated he would enter by the next night.
He didn’t need to ask; this was all the fault of the Opera Robe Ghost, whom Yang Xiao ntally lashed out at to vent his anger.
Oh, why only in his mind and not out loud? Because he didn’t dare.
Yang Xiao felt rather wronged; it seed that the Opera Robe Ghost had mistaken him for her heartless lover Hanjiang Jun who had betrayed her.
Unable to sleep, tossing and turning in bed, Yang Xiao subconsciously wanted to find Sheng Yanlin to talk, but when he reached out, he realized the Soul-Capturing Mirror had been taken by the Cannibal Buddha, presumably sealed by special ans, so he had to give up.
But having just experienced the ghostly appearance of the black ghost, Yang Xiao couldn’t sleep. After an hour of enduring, he sat up from the bed, went to the door, opened it, and imdiately a guard ran over.
"Where are those two girls?" Yang Xiao got straight to the point. He was too lonely and didn’t want to be alone.
"Sir, they are waiting in a nearby tent." The guard answered respectfully, "Are you going to have them attend to you tonight?"
Yang Xiao glanced outside. The night was dark with a grayish tint, as if shrouded in a mist, making people feel uncomfortable, "Bring them here."
"Yes."
Yang Xiao closed the door and retreated into the room, vaguely rembering the cover of the Script Box had the sa night scene.
Beneath the gray-black fog lay a dilapidated, eerie village.
Before long, there was a knock on the door, and with permission, two girls entered one after another, their cheeks slightly flushed and adorned with makeup, indicating they had grood themselves before coming.
But such things ant nothing to Yang Xiao, as he was just too lonely and wanted soone alive to keep him company.
As long as it was a person.
"Sir, the water in the bath has cooled. I’ll heat it up for you, please wait a mont." One of the taller girls tested the water temperature with her hand and turned her head to speak.
"No need, just stay quietly, don’t speak."
Yang Xiao lay alone on the bed, while the two girls obediently knelt a short distance away on the thick, felt carpet, with their hands placed separately on their fair legs.
"Don’t kneel, don’t be constrained, just pretend I’m not here."
Yang Xiao didn’t even look at them, staring blankly at the ceiling, though he was actually thinking.
Slowly, a wave of drowsiness hit, and Yang Xiao gradually closed his eyes, only hoping that when he opened them tomorrow, good news would await him.
The influence of the Esoteric Sect was indeed terrifying, and there was a great chance they could find him teammates. If lucky, maybe even other clues.
Unknowingly, Yang Xiao fell into a deep sleep, perhaps due to matters on his mind. The sleep was restless; he even dread of that Martyr. Even more frightening, the Martyr was holding his hand, with lips moving quickly, like he was saying sothing important.
But the damning thing was, he was speaking in heavily accented Myanmar-Tai, which Yang Xiao could not understand at all, driving him crazy.
And at a crucial point, the cloudy eyes of the Martyr began to weep blood tears.
Yang Xiao was terrified; he struggled desperately to free his hand, tearing the Martyr’s wide robe in the process. In the next second, Yang Xiao stared straight at the ground beneath him, as a chilling shiver swept through his body like an electric current.
Beneath the wide skirt hem of the Martyr’s robe erged a pair of pitch-black, withered feet.
This wasn’t the Martyr; it was that Ghost!
Just as Yang Xiao suddenly looked up, a pitch-black ghost face pressed against him.
In the next second, Yang Xiao was jolted awake, almost sitting up straight in bed.
It was a dream...
Yang Xiao’s back was drenched in cold sweat, his chest heaving violently. It had been a while since he had such a horrific dream.
Looking around, the light above was still on but only one remained, emitting a dim glow just enough to see. Presumably, the girls had turned off the other lights after he fell asleep.
At this mont, the two girls were still kneeling not far away, just as they were before he fell asleep.
The two girls seed to be asleep too, their heads drooping with their bodies gently rising and falling with their breaths.
"Whew—"
Yang Xiao exhaled a breath, intending to lie back down, but instinct drew his gaze back to the girls. His subconscious had sensed sothing was wrong.
Without rashly speaking to wake the girls, Yang Xiao’s gaze swept slowly across the area until it stopped on the screen beside the girls. Yang Xiao shivered.
In the dim light, shadows of the girls were cast on the screen, but there weren’t two shadows, there were three!
Next to the two girls was a "person" that Yang Xiao couldn’t see!
In Yang Xiao’s horrified gaze, the shadow on the far right began to stand up, with a slender figure and withered limbs like bamboo poles. Yang Xiao imdiately recognized it as the Ghost, Painted Woman!!
Suddenly, the sound of chains clinking ca from the direction of the door. Yang Xiao imdiately looked over, but there was nothing there.
When Yang Xiao looked back at the screen, a terrifying sight occurred—the ghostly shadow was gone, and... and so were the two kneeling girls.
"Soone! Soone co quickly!!" Yang Xiao shouted toward the door, where guards were on night watch.
At the sa ti, Yang Xiao tried to call out the Magic Artifact with his consciousness, but his connection with the Underworld Robe was severed; he could not feel the Robe’s existence at all.
For a mont, Yang Xiao was stupefied; he couldn’t understand why the Ghost was haunting him.
How long had it been since the night had not yet fallen; it had only been a couple of hours since he received the Ghost Script. How... how could it have happened so fast?
However, Yang Xiao’s thoughts stopped here because he vaguely saw his shadow on the ground mysteriously grow twisted and tall.
A scraping sound arose from behind him.
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