Feng Jinglan's breathing was like a strangled beast, her throat burning.
She tried hard to open her eyes, but her vision was blurred, and a piece of whiteness stung her eyelids.
The nostrils were filled with the rich smell of incense and candles, mixed with a hint of rotten wood.
The body was stiff, and the wrists and ankles were tied tightly with rough ropes.
A huge black lacquered coffin was right next to it, giving it a full sense of oppression.
Above his head, a withered face crowded in front of him.
There was a cold smile on the old face, the eye sockets were sunken, and the corners of the mouth were turned down.
This face, in the past life, no, "last life" - this word rolled around in her mind, with a hint of blood and blood - this face was the beginning of her nightmare.
Aunt Liu, stepmother Liu's confidant.
