The night my daughter's urn was rolled into a mass grave, I saw her little soul holding my severed finger and crying. Wang Li's "ancestral secret method" of cutting my belly open and filling it with a charm was originally a head-lowering technique stolen from Southeast Asia. Reborn seven days before he was beaten to death, I clutched the death note drawn by my husband, but on the seventh night of revenge, I was shocked to realize: at the end of the blood curse, there is the redemption of three generations of women spanning hundreds of years - the Nanyang witch buried the homecoming array in the rubber plantation, Wang Li, who was scolded as the "cursed evildoer", used half of her life blood to raise the infant spirit, and the knife I raised finally cut through the hatred and held out the way for forty-nine children to go home. The red soil remembers all the names, and in the ashes of locust flowers and pandan leaves, there is a word heavier than blood payment: return home.
Purpose: Using the redemption of three generations of women as our bones, we forge the faith of returning home to Nanyang, and let the red earth remember the warmth of motherhood and the eternal power that transcends hatred.