The hall, or rather the burial chamber, was empty, with the Ancestral Master's ghostly figure floating around three times but found nothing.
The only possible clue was a faint imprint at the very center of the burial chamber.
It proved that something had been placed there.
The imprint wasn't large, only a square foot, so it couldn't have been a coffin or anything of that sort.
At most, it could be an ash box.
"Impossible, how could it disappear? That thing was clearly here..."
Tang watched the Ancestral Master's ghostly figure circle around but had no ideas, so he could only stand aside and watch.
As he watched, he suddenly felt a chill down his spine. Before he could react, his mouth and nose were tightly covered by a pair of old hands.
The hands were salty and dark, a touch to the mouth and nose revealed they hadn't been washed for at least three days.
Tang felt the smell was familiar. As he slightly turned his head, he saw it was Tang.
