After Burning the Temple, Evil Ghosts Lined up to Confess Their Crimes

It didn't rain when grandpa was buried, and the sky was as dry as if something was absorbing moisture from the ground. I stood in front of the grave and watched as the coffin was covered with shovelfuls of soil. The eight coffin bearers hired by the village, their hands wrapped with red ropes, recited one sentence after each shovelful of soil: "The descendants of the Qin family will fall to the ground and return to the dust."