Red Moon's light seeped through the finger-wide crack and fell across Ji Li's face, like a layer of faded rouge.
He lay in the coffin, the Marriage Certificate pressed against his chest, the chill already seeping into the cracks of his bones.
The coffin was still swaying. The bearers' steps were steady, one after another, like the heartbeat of a living person.
Yet he heard no breathing. They were probably still something that could not be called either paper effigies or puppets.
The eaves lining both sides of Bai E Hua Avenue jutted crookedly beneath the Red Moon, like rows of chipped black teeth. They raced backward through the corner of the coffin's view; the coffin was moving quickly.
There was not a single figure on the street. The unconcealed whispers from before had all crowded into the darkness, rustling faintly, but now they had vanished as well.
The entire street was terrifyingly silent.
But just then, the suona began to play.
It did not come from afar. It was more like it had suddenly started, as though someone had pressed the suona directly against the coffin lid and blown into it.
The sound was sharp enough to pierce his skull, making his ears ring. Though it seemed to be played with all its might, the tune was agonizingly slow, each note dragged out for three breaths, throwing the entire melody out of key.
The gongs rang too, the cymbals rang too, and the drums rang too, all sounding right against the coffin.
Ji Li clenched the Marriage Certificate. The booklet was ice-cold, as though it had just been pried from a dead person's hand, yet it could not stop the blood from rushing to his head.
His head felt as though it were about to split apart. The blood