After the coffin was opened, a foul stench wafted out. The black-faced man lay inside, his lower body already festering, pus filling the coffin. He should have had only half a breath left—practically a living corpse!
"Heh heh, you were planning to bury this man alive?" My face darkened as I glanced at the old man.
"No! No! He's already dead!" the old man hurriedly denied.
"Master! Zhao Qingsan is already dead! We weren't trying to bury him alive! Just smell him—he already reeks of corpses!" Lu Shuiping hurriedly said, pinching his nose.
"That's right, that's right. It definitely wasn't live burial." A group of villagers chimed in agreement, all acting as though they refused to admit anything.
"Hmph, dead? What a joke. As long as he has half a breath left, he isn't dead. Open the other coffin too!" I knew the black-faced man wasn't completely dead. Once he was buried alive, the process of nurturing would be complete. Who among the living would willingly be buried alive? Looking at the corners of his eyes, the wings of his nose, and his mouth, I could tell from physiognomy that he was a vicious and ruthless man. No wonder nobody spoke up for him even as he approached death.
As long as a person wasn't dead, their soul remained sealed inside their body. That was one step in nurturing a demon.
Everyone exchanged glances, but they still opened the coffin. When it opened, suspicion flashed across my face. It was actually an empty coffin, with an incense burner inside.
I walked over and tried to pick up the incense burner, but Lu Shuiping immediately stopped me. He said bitterly, "Master! The incense burner suppresses souls. You can't take it!"
"Lu Shuiping, move aside! Take the villagers away first. I'll call