Qiusheng placed a stick of incense at each of the lone graves near Old Master Ren's tomb.
He stopped before the grave of a woman named Dong Xiaoyu. Seeing the captivating photo on her tombstone, he immediately grew interested and wanted to know how she had died.
Qiusheng carefully studied the photograph and obituary on the tombstone for a while, then sighed. "Dead at twenty. What a waste of such a fine youth. Here, have some incense."
With that, he stuck the last three incense sticks in his hand into the ground, stood up, and turned to leave.
After taking only two steps, Qiusheng heard a faint "Thank you" from behind him. It was the voice of a young girl.
But this was a desolate mountain graveyard. Where would a young girl come from? What girl would dare stay alone in a graveyard?
"That's not right... It sounded like it came from that grave."
Qiusheng immediately turned back in alarm to look at Dong Xiaoyu's grave behind him.
"Thank you."
This time, Qiusheng heard it loud and clear. It had come from the grave behind him. He was terrified—he really had not imagined it.
Qiusheng hurried toward Wencai, constantly looking back at the grave, fear filling his heart. Damn it, in broad daylight, a ghost had actually thanked him. Could it be that a female ghost had taken a liking to him?
Bang.
Qiusheng, who had not been watching where he was going, crashed into Wencai. They were both knocked aside.
The two rubbed their aching chests. That collision had hurt badly; it felt as though their breastbones were about to crack.
"Ow! Why weren't you watching where you were going?"
After grumbling a few words, Wencai handed the three incense sticks to Qiusheng. "Hey, look. Why did they burn