Father Cheng and Mrs. Cheng were anxiously waiting outside the door, occasionally checking their watches, and rushed forward as soon as they saw the door open.
"Daoist, how is it?"
"Daoist, is my son alright?"
"Both of you!" The Daoist's face was pale, his knees trembling, as he raised his hands with effort and said:
"Allow this old Daoist to take a moment."
"Yes, yes."
They responded, arranging for a soft chair to support the Daoist as he sat down.
"Gulp..."
The Daoist grabbed a glass of water and drank it down desperately, only letting out a long breath after a while, with the fear in his eyes slightly diminished.
"Daoist?"
Father Cheng and Mrs. Cheng looked at him with anticipation.
"Alas!"
The Daoist lowered his head and sighed, his voice dropping like a heavy stone on their chests, making their hearts tighten and their breaths quicken.
"This poor Daoist is powerless."
"The ghost is truly too powerful!"
