Following the direction of the flowing water, Yu Chengmu finally stopped in front of that particularly thick white candle.
It was the very one the Night Watchman had emphasized.
"Dong—"
The sound of the bell rang out again. This time, however, Jiang Cheng stared at his phone, a strange expression surfacing on his face. He then stood up and strode toward the door, peering outside through the crack.
Fatty could not help asking, "Doctor, did you discover something?"
"The timing doesn't add up." Without turning around, Jiang Cheng said, "The intervals between your two bell strikes were about half an hour, and Lei Mingyu's was about the same. But Yu Chengmu's interval was forty-four minutes."
"That long?" Fatty was somewhat surprised. After thinking it over, he quickly explained, "I observed the incense. Every stick was about the same. There's no reason Yu Chengmu's incense should have burned that much longer than ours."
"Mm. So what exactly did he do alone in the funeral hall during that extra time?" Jiang Cheng turned his head and looked at Fatty, a trace of worry appearing in his expression.
"Dong—"
Another bell rang.
Pang Xiaofeng stepped through the entrance of the funeral hall. His steps were unsteady, and he looked around nervously. After returning, Lei Mingyu had briefly told him about the arrangement inside the hall. Fortunately, there did not seem to be any major problems.
He took a deep breath and prepared to do as Lei Mingyu had said: light the incense, sit down in front of the incense burner, and no matter what happened, neither listen, look, nor care.
That was right. Just like that!
Trembling, he brought the incense to the thickest candle and lit it. Then he inserted it into the incense burner, and Pang Xiaofeng entered meditation mode.
At