C31 (1/2)

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.