The yellowed talisman paper bore blood-red characters, and beneath the peeling chunks of wall plaster hid a series of black symbols. Ash from the burning paper money was visible all around the living room, and the floor was strewn with various photographs.
Han Fei picked up the photo closest to him. In the image was a woman shackled by chains, her ankles fused with the rusted iron.
Her belly was slightly bulging; head lowered, hair covering her face; one hand propped up her body while the other reached out toward the camera as if resisting having such a photo taken.
The darkness of the blanket, the paleness of the skin; the thick chains, the slender arms; the despairing hand of the subject trying to block the camera, the photographer remorselessly continuing to shoot.
It was just a single photo, yet everything in it was so vivid and glaring.
"Bang!"