At nightfall. The candle shadows on the street swayed, and when the wind blew, the paper money on the ground rolled up and fell. The paper money stretched all the way to the front of Prince Yan's mansion. In front of the house, two large red lanterns swayed in the wind, red silk and satin were hung on the beams, and an ice coffin stood in the center of the courtyard, which was strange and eerie. "Why did Prince Yan die again? How many times has he died this month?" A middle-aged man lowered his voice and walked into the palace, shaking his head sadly. The people next to him subconsciously glanced at the ice coffin in the courtyard, "Stop talking, just cry." As a low cry sounded, the entire Prince Yan's palace suddenly became more gloomy.
