The narrow space was filled with pungent rosin.
Su Luan was stuck between two thick wooden boards.
The burning pain in his chest was still scurrying around, and his internal organs were trembling.
Half an hour ago, Mrs. Liu broke into her room with two stout women carrying the bowl of bird's nests with added ingredients. He forcefully pinched her jaw open and poured the poison into her throat.
The suona was playing loudly outside, mixed with the muttering of Taoist priests chanting sutras.
Is this a funeral, or a funeral worthy of a ghost marriage?
Su Luan raised his hand and touched the rough wood grain above his head.
There were at least thirty guests outside and four strong men carrying the coffin.
