On the day when Shen Heng, the real daughter who had been transferred, returned to his home, the reception banquet turned into a place of death.
When Mrs. Hou swallowed her last mouthful of pearl and jade glutinous rice balls, a frog-like "gurgling" sound came out from her throat, and she died suddenly with bleeding from all her orifices. The fennel remaining on the edge of the bowl was the medicinal spice specially prepared by Shen Heng for her birth mother.
"My sister's sachet is so unique." The red gold bracelet on the fake daughter Su Yuerong's wrist rang softly. The dried oleander flowers falling from the hidden grid were strikingly similar to the rotten elderberry garland in the coffin of Shen Heng's biological mother.
On the seventh night of the funeral, hundreds of coffins in the ancestral hall were automatically placed in an interrogation formation. Shen Heng finally saw the truth of this killing game: the key evidence of the baby-swapping tragedy twenty years ago was actually hidden in the flesh and blood of each deceased person.
She soaked silver needles with heartbroken juice and stabbed out the remaining pages of the "Poison Sutra" on the backs of those who died suddenly. She fed the messenger tits with crane crown red and let the bones ooze indigo blood under the moonlight. When Dali Temple secret agent Xie Zhao opened her skirt with the tip of his sword, the birthmark with the word "medicine" burned under the collarbone perfectly matched the mark on Mrs. Hou's rotten heart...
