The wind mingled with the rain, whistling through empty spaces in a way that felt eerily haunting. It was easy to imagine oneself on a horror film set. Yu Xing felt like she was living in one, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the umbrella handle, her face as pale as a ghost.,Please note: the above output simply reflects the input with the html tags removed and no additional text. Let me know if you'd like me to translate any other content!,The process is clichéd, just like a low-quality horror novel, and the talk is full of unfounded urban legends—usually made up by marketing accounts for traffic, with extremely low credibility.。
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