Jiang Cheng lifted the corpse's hand. It was noticeably colder than his own, but that wasn't what caught his attention. He gently rubbed it with his fingers, a strange look in his eyes.
Tang Qisheng reacted quickly and asked, "Brother Jiang, did you notice something?"
Pulling the corpse's hand free, Jiang Cheng looked at everyone and lowered his voice. "Look at his hand. Do you see anything?"
The Fatty gazed at the callused back of Grandpa's hand and sighed. "So many calluses. He must have had a hard life."
In a place like this, it was easy to imagine how much the old man had suffered raising his granddaughter alone. The Fatty had worked all kinds of jobs and met plenty of people like him. He knew how harsh and helpless life could be.
Seeing that the Fatty had already forgotten the pain of his wounds, Jiang Cheng gave up and turned to the others. After a moment, Shao Tong was the one who spotted the clue. He took the old man's hand, examined the back, then turned it over to inspect the palm. Compared with the heavily callused back, the old man's palm was much softer.
"Something's definitely off. This old fellow wasn't a fisherman."
The Fatty was the first to look baffled. He mustered the courage to examine the old man's hand, but a few seconds later, Jiang Cheng had to explain it to him. "For a fisherman, hauling nets and rowing are basic tasks. Over the years, the friction would build up a thick layer of calluses on the palms, especially the centers. But look—his palms are soft."
"The calluses are on the backs of his hands, concentrated around his knuckles and the backs of his fingers. They've formed a hard layer."
Jiang Cheng turned the corpse's