C31

I searched my foster father's room for the truth.

Could it be that there really is some kind of Evil Theurgy in this world, allowing people to dig graves after they die? There are many things that can be done?

I have heard a lot about how the Ghostly Beard tried to take its life, but I have never heard of Ghost Being being able to dig graves.

One had to know that the so-called ghost was only a spirit body. In the end, there was a thick barrier separating Yin and Yang.

Humans actually felt that being able to come into contact with Ghost Being was pretty much all an illusion. Of course, there were also other examples, which was that the resentment on Ghost Being was too heavy, it had already reached the level of being able to come into contact with a mortal.

But to do something like dig a hole and steal a corpse... Is that really possible?

Where did foster father learn all these years? He definitely wasn't the one who figured it out.

If he knew what he had been researching all these years, many mysteries might be solved.

He was frantically searching for his foster father's room, but... His room was too clean. Apart from the usual white matter items, there were also things like yellow paper and cinnabar.

It was also a rather common item that he had used to study strange things over the years.

After searching for a while, I found nothing. I sat on the brick bed in disappointment, frowning as I didn't know what to do next.

Just when my mind went blank, a flash of inspiration struck me and I suddenly thought of something. I headed towards my previous room.

From under the mattress, he took out a few photographs. There were bloodstains that had long since dried up on the photos.

After bringing the photos to the brick bed, he started to carefully examine them. When Lingling saw how serious I was, she also looked at me and lightly pursed her lips without saying a word.

I stared at the pictures, trying to read them.

The blood stains on these photos were shocking, and the small holes on them were even more difficult to understand.

When someone stitches a wound on another person's picture, it is usually to vent the hatred in their heart, and their foster father is even more likely to do it in order to release some sort of Evil Theurgy.

And they looked old, and the color was one of those very old cameras.

In a remote place like ours, no one can have a camera.

Those who took pictures in the city would occasionally come to these remote places to fish for some money. Occasionally, the villagers would also go to the city to take some pictures.

Because of the limitations of the conditions, villagers cherish their photos, and each one could be the last one in their lives.

They could all be thoughts for their own descendants.

These days, I've been so stressed out that I haven't been studying these photos very carefully.

At the same time, I lined up the seven photos, trying to find some clues.

I soon discovered that these photographs had been taken in half-length, full-length, but the small holes were all focused on the upper body of the person in the picture.

Furthermore, the locations of the small holes were exactly the same as if they were Chinese acupuncture, with fixed positions and exact positions. It was as if this wasn't a photo, but a real person.

This may seem ridiculous, but if you think about it carefully, hasn't the adoptive father done a lot of wild things over the years?

Since these holes could be found regularly, it was not just to vent his anger.

Including Second Uncle Li, all of these seven people are my liege. However, if we were to speak of all the people who have lost their families since I became a Funerary Lady, I am still one less person than them.

Seven Mourners... These seven people didn't have any kinship. Within two years, they all died.

Some had been crushed to death by farm vehicles, and some had fallen into wells and drowned, and fallen from trees to their deaths.

And these photos, the adoptive father obviously didn't come from the regular channels, so they were most likely stolen.

Or he could have borrowed it from a professional, when he was arranging pictures of the dead.

After all, everyone looked at their pictures very precious, so how could they just casually give them to him?

In fact, at this moment, he calmed down and looked at the photo carefully to sort it out and think about it.

There were less than two hundred people in the entire village, and there were indeed more trivial matters.

However, it was still a bit inconceivable for so many people to die in an accident over these two years …

However, the causes of death were all accidents and there was no connection between them. Thus, people would not think of all of these as a single reason.

Before I became a Funerary Lady, because my adoptive father was a mourner, he brought me along to a few jobs where he cried in grief.

At that time, the villagers would usually die from illness or from natural deaths when they were old. In a few years, there would only be one or two accidental deaths.

Since two years ago, these coincidences had risen sharply. Was this really normal?

One more thing …

An idea suddenly popped into my mind, and when this idea appeared, my entire body felt a chill …

He was shocked.

Did these pictures really only appear in foster fathers' hands after the deaths of these people?

Perhaps, their deaths … Perhaps it was a plan from his foster father.

I gulped. I looked at the photos out of the corner of my eye at the thought.

"Elder sister, your face is so ugly. What did you think of?"

At this time, Lingling asked.

I shook my head. I didn't know how to reply, so I chose to remain silent.

Lingling saw that I did not speak, nor did she ask, she only followed me and studied the picture.

At this time, Lingling suddenly pointed at one of the people in the photo and said:

"Elder sister, I seem to know this person. I've been to our village before.

At that time, Uncle Liu also told me to stay away from him, saying that this person is very wicked. "

The person that Lingling was referring to, was a deceased master who had passed away more than three months ago. Everyone in the village called him Ergou, and he looked only around thirty years old.

This Ergou-zi is notoriously notorious in our village, and does all sorts of things like stealing from a chicken or taking a dog.

Many years ago, there were rumors saying that this person always liked to hang out in front of the door of someone who was hosting a happy red and white event. Such a person usually had good intentions, and even if he was caught red-and-white, his master would not blame him.

Thinking of this, my hand lightly touched Ergou's picture, and my pupils suddenly contracted …

Stealing chickens and dogs … Could it be …

Taking a deep breath, I said:

"Could it be that it was spread out by him all those years ago?"

I have always wondered, ten years ago, on that night, when I was the only one who clearly saw my foster father and Aunt Zhang, how did everyone know about this matter?

That is to say, someone else must have seen it that night.

And this person … It was very likely to be Ergou.

There was also Second Uncle Li. Although he was quite old, his character was not that good. He liked to go to the houses of widows who had rumors about him.

I am not sure if Second Uncle Li has ever been to Aunt Zhang's house before, but if he has, it could be the hand that pushed Aunt Zhang to death.

As for the others in the picture, I don't know much, but more or less, they might be related to the death of the Aunt Zhang.

They were all people who were pushing others behind the scenes …

It wasn't just the person in the photo; Brother Long's mother was famous in the village as his wife, and her mouth was very venomous.

Before Aunt Zhang died, she chatted with her neighbors almost every day. Even though I was young at that time, I still remember this point.

Inside, outside...

Brother Long's mother died in a similarly strange manner, and Liu Songxian seemed to know something else.

Could it be that all these deaths were planned by his foster father?

Although the foster father was a bit abnormal, but … Such killing, however, did not resemble his personality.

My adoptive father had done a lot of cruel things over the years, but after killing those little animals, I could almost hear him mumbling about excess.

Back then, she only felt that he was abnormal. But now that she thought about it, it seemed that his actions now contained some helplessness, as if … It was the same as being forced …

The adoptive father held incomparable respect for the life of a person, just like his traditional idea of a man and a woman. He was very inflexible.