>Grandma grabbed me before she died: "I burn three sticks of incense every day, and I cannot stop offering the memorial tablet under the table."
>I worshiped every day according to my last words, until the ashes suddenly formed the words "Don't worship".
>That night blood oozed from the altar table and the tablets had cracks.
>A pale hand stretched out from under the table: "Incense is poisonous, your grandma used her life to imprison me for a hundred years."
>He snuffed out the incense in my hand: "Now, it's time to be freed."
