Su Qing walked into the mortuary. The white spirit banner rustled in the wind, and the paper money on the ground flew all over the house. It was especially gloomy as if she had come to the netherworld.
There were a few thin wooden coffins in the courier station. The other coffins were parked at the side. Only one black wooden coffin was parked in the middle of the memorial hall. In front of the coffin was a brazier. The wind had blown away the ashes inside. Zhong Yong knelt in front of the coffin and cried loudly. Xiaoying was also crying beside the coffin.
Su Qing walked toward the coffin with difficulty. She clenched her fists tightly and suppressed the overwhelming sadness in her heart.
Ji Shuisheng rushed to the coffin. Under the dim light, he saw the godmother's ghastly pale and bruised face.
Ji Shuisheng felt his heart being squeezed by a pair of big hands. He knelt in front of the coffin and kowtowed to Madam Li.
