The yin energy was right at my feet.
I couldn't see anything in the darkness, but Shen Xiaorong's thoughts came through to me clearly.
Part of them were his memories: a chaotic, noisy room from ancient times. A child lay on the floor, wailing. His face was red and swollen from a burn, already blistered and festering. But no one paid him any attention. Another child on the bed was being held by a couple, while men and women who looked like servants rushed in and out, shouting for a doctor and trying to soothe the child.
Someone was holding Shen Xiaorong. He looked down at the boy lying on the floor.
"Oh, that's bad. He'll probably come down with a serious illness, won't he?" The woman holding Shen Xiaorong spoke in a flippant, teasing tone.
Shen Xiaorong saw the resentment and hesitation on the couple's faces beside the bed.
By this point, Shen Xiaorong must have realized something was wrong with the Shen family.
Shen Youkang's ghost was now straddling Shen Xiaorong, squeezing his neck and pressing his rotting skin against Shen Xiaorong's wrinkled face.
Shen Xiaorong's memories continued.
He secretly slipped out of the house and followed his parents. They, too, had sneaked out to watch the commotion.
The couple they'd seen before had someone drag Shen Youkang away. His face was festering and oozing pus, and he couldn't even open his eyes. They dragged him into the woods, wrapped a hemp rope around his neck, and hanged him while he was still alive.
Shen Xiaorong's parents rushed out.
The two sides nearly came to blows.
"Youkang! Your auntie's here to save you!" Shen Xiaorong's mother shouted.
The woman pulling at her hair panted and swore, "Stop pretending to be a good person! Weren't you treating your own