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Black coffins swayed on shoulders, passing through grief-stricken gazes as they were slowly carried toward the cremation platform at the westernmost end of the Central Courtyard.
There, dozens of massive pure-copper cremation furnaces engraved with cremation arrays had long stood in grim silence.
At last, all the coffins were set in place.
Only the final step remained—direct blood relatives, especially children, lighting the soul fire.
The scene was pushed at once to the utmost, to a grief so profound it defied words.
Ji Chengjian stood straight as a pine, reaching out to steadily support Liu Ruyi's trembling wrist.
The fourteen-year-old young girl's face was filled with sorrow and tears as she forced herself to hold the everlasting candle together with her grandfather.
The instant the candle flame touched the ignition stone groove, there was a soft pop, and blue-green soul fire suddenly shot up!
In the glaring light, Liu Ruyi's body went weak, and she choked out a sob, relying entirely on her grandfather's firm support.
Ji Chengjian's gaze was branded like iron onto the flames that devoured everything, and a heavy, pained grunt rolled from his throat. "Shu Ran... your father... is sending you off..."
The old tears finally broke through the calm he had forced himself to maintain, surging down the furrows of his sharply defined face.
He held his granddaughter's hand, yet he was steady as bedrock, his silent support worth more than a thousand words.
Yan Xiaolai bit his lip hard, the scent of blood spreading between his teeth. He abruptly thrust the firebrand in his hand inside, the motion so resolute it was almost an act of venting, yet the instant the firelight flared, he whipped around, his shoulders jerking