Xia Xin stared intently and saw the Incense Ash in the bowl gradually take the form of a woman.
But the woman’s appearance was very odd.
She appeared to be a little over twenty, as if lying on the ground, her forehead covered in fresh blood, her eyes wide open and quite terrifying.
Xia Xin locked eyes with her, and it made him shudder with fear.
At that moment, Xia Xin abruptly noticed that Wan Jiayuan’s fingertip was oozing another drop of blood.
The blood, like a thin thread, followed Wan Jiayuan’s fingertip and the tabletop, slowly crawling into the bowl.
Gradually, the Incense Ash began to change again.
The woman’s figure, from her original appearance at death, slowly turned into a pile of white bones.
The surrounding Incense Ash also gradually transformed into some strange images.
It didn’t look like it was on the ground or in a coffin.
It was more like on some wall, yet not quite.
The background depicted chunks of brick wall, yet the central space was large, unlike a regular wall.
Furthermore, on the bricks, there were special markings, resembling children’s drawings.
Xia Xin, observing this environmental background and the pile of white bones, couldn’t help but shudder.
"You can open your eyes now," Jiangli said indifferently upon glimpsing the scene in the bowl.
As if someone had touched him, Wan Jiayuan’s eyes flew open uncontrollably.
The next second, he saw the scene in the bowl.
Wan Jiayuan jerked back in fright, his chair moving backward half a step.
Jiangli extended her hand, pointed at the scene in the bowl, and said, "Hold your screams, look at this scene, do you recognize it?"
Wan Jiayuan’s face was still very pale.
He began to doubt whether he had seen it incorrectly...
After a pause, he tentatively looked back into the bowl.
The image in the bowl was still of a pile of white bones.
But before Wan Jiayuan could scream again, he suddenly noticed the images on the brick wall beside him.
He was completely stunned.
"Do you see what place it is? Is it somewhere familiar to you?" asked Jiangli, noticing the change in Wan Jiayuan’s expression.
Wan Jiayuan swallowed hard, still a bit nervous, but the strange images overcame the fear in his heart.
He stared at the drawings above, his face suddenly changing, "This, this looks like my old home..."
Jiangli raised an eyebrow, "Old home?"
Wan Jiayuan nodded hurriedly, "Yes... In our old home, there was a custom where elders over sixty were locked in a tomb with a single door, and every day a brick would be placed until the tomb was completely sealed up."
Xia Xin’s eyelids twitched, "What kind of barbaric customs are those..."
"That was decades ago; I’m not clear about it, and such customs no longer exist. But when I was a child, I didn’t know about these things. When I saw the tombs with bricks, I would run over and draw on them with burnt sticks, sometimes using stones..."
Speaking, Wan Jiayuan’s eyes reddened, and he trembled, "I, I think, the drawings on the brick walls, they seem familiar... like I drew them myself..."
Xia Xin’s eyes widened abruptly, "You drew them yourself?"
Wan Jiayuan nodded almost imperceptibly, "Yes... We also had such tombs in our fields, I heard that before the land was planned, everyone buried randomly, and after it came to our family, no one dared to touch those old tombs, so they were left untouched..."
At that time, he was young and brash, never considering what was inside the ground as he weeded.
When he was slacking off, he would take a stick or a stone and draw on them.
When his father saw it, he was caught and scolded.