"This is Dream-Guiding Incense, mixed with Yin Earth, so it's quite special. Once lit, the Yin energy can help you communicate between Yin and Yang in your dreams."
"This mirror is the Reflection Mirror, which can help you stabilize your mind. And this powder is scraped from old coffins, which can isolate you from external interference."
As the Taoist priest spoke, he used the powder to draw a small circle around me.
Then he placed me and him in the middle, while Luo Tianhe and Lao Dao Li Huai stayed outside the circle, and the child was inside the circle.
Then he gestured for me to sit in front of the child, and placed the small bronze mirror between us, with the mirror facing the child. Finally, he lit the black incense stick.
This fragrance is unlike any other; the child in front of me seems to have no appetite for it whatsoever.
I couldn't help but sniff, and a strong wave of drowsiness washed over me. I felt the scene before me begin to sway and blur.
In the last moment before I lost consciousness, I saw the child opposite me slowly close his eyes as well.
I could almost hear the distant, ethereal chanting of Taoist Master Zhang Qingxiao.
The air was filled with the acrid smell of burning firewood and the unpleasant odor of burning low-quality candles.
The light was dim, with only a few faint candle flames flickering in the corners, casting huge shadows on the piles of firewood and debris around them.
I realized that my perspective was extremely low, and I couldn't even see the things on the stove.
It was only then that I realized I had entered the dream, and now I was seeing things from the child's perspective.
In front of me was a rather thin woman dressed in coarse cloth.
She was busy with something in the dim candlelight, humming a strange, off-key tune.
If I didn't know what was going to happen next, I probably would have thought she was just an ordinary rural woman making dinner for her son.
"Mom, it's so dark here, I'm a little scared. Where did Dad go?"
A childish voice escaped my throat, tinged with unease, as if it had anticipated something.
I noticed that the child seemed to have bruises on his arm.
It's unlikely he fell by himself; it's very likely this woman, who also engages in domestic violence against her son.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of pain in my heart. Even living in such an environment, this child still trusted and depended on his mother so much.
But his mother did this.
Seemingly because she heard his words, the woman stopped humming and slowly turned around.
The candlelight illuminated her face, which appeared unusually pale, with high cheekbones and deep-set eyes.
I couldn't help but feel a chill run down my spine. This woman looked a bit like those drug addicts I'd seen in movies in Europe and America, with a fanaticism and madness in her eyes.
A twisted smile played on her lips as she held a small, gleaming knife in her hand, which was otherwise filthy.
I knew what she was going to do with the knife next.
She continued to deceive him, saying, "Baby, don't be afraid. I'm going to make you new clothes. Look how beautiful the fabric is."
She stretched out her right hand, and there she was, holding a dark red, wet object with red blood dripping from its edges.
I could tell at a glance that it was a piece of human skin, but the cutting method was extremely ugly, as it was cut off along with the flesh.
I could feel the child's body trembling.
After all, seeing such a bizarre scene would have terrified any normal person.
Especially since that person was his own mother.
"Run! Get out of here! Get away from this weird woman!"
I screamed in my heart, hoping the plot would change, but unfortunately, the plot seemed to be following the original trajectory.
"Okay, okay, Mother, I'll wear my new clothes."
"Hehe, you have to take off your old clothes before you put on new clothes."
The woman crouched down, her twisted smile drawing closer to me. Her icy hand touched my cheek, then slid down to the back of my neck.
She wasn't acting like she was dealing with her son; she was acting more like she was dealing with her prey.
Her hands were ice cold, like ice cubes just taken out of the refrigerator.
"Mom, it's cold!" The child shivered.
"Don't move, I know you're the best girl. Just bear with it, you'll be taking off your old clothes soon. You sleep for a while, and Mommy will sing you a lullaby..."
The woman's voice was soft and seductive, yet contained an undeniable firmness.
The blade in her hand began to move, piercing into the flesh and slicing down the spine.
Excruciating pain, a searing, tearing pain!
I don't know if it's because he's a child and therefore more afraid of pain, or if children are more sensitive to pain, but he felt it more clearly than I did when I peeled my own skin in the mass grave.
I couldn't help but hiss and gasp. Damn it, I've been skinned twice in just one day!
One time I peeled the skin myself, and the other time someone else did it for me.
The child clearly felt the pain, but he did not resist violently. He simply suppressed his emotions, and the view was swaying, the candlelight was distorting.
I don't know what this child has been through. If it were an ordinary child, they would have been crying and making a fuss by now.
Suddenly, a sharper and deeper pain erupted from my abdomen.
I know that the woman cut open his stomach with a knife.
"Here, take this and play with it. It'll distract you and keep me from taking off your clothes."
The woman's voice was extremely natural, as if what was being handed to her was just an ordinary toy.
I couldn't help but convulse, my heart filled with indignation.
Soon, I felt something slippery and warm being placed into the child's trembling hand; it was his own intestines.
"Why? Mom, I was being a good girl, but it hurts so much, it really hurts..."
My dream abruptly ended.
I abruptly broke free from that immersive feeling of pain. The moment my senses returned, I couldn't help but gag. My face was as pale as paper, and my whole body was soaked in cold sweat.
I never want to experience that feeling again in my life.
There is probably no one in this world who would willingly experience that kind of pain.
The extreme pain and despair of being cruelly tortured and murdered by one's closest relatives, and then being shielded from such a clumsy lie before death, almost made me lose my composure.
A bold idea formed in my mind: that child actually knew, he knew everything!
He just didn't want to believe it; he was deceiving himself!
The Taoist priest Zhang Qingxiao opposite me also had a livid face and was breathing rapidly, clearly having experienced the same shock as me.
That's when I understood why he entrusted the task of protecting the Dharma to Luo Tianhe.
Suddenly, I felt like crying.
To put it bluntly, Master Zhang Qingxiao was just an old friend of my grandfather, and we have absolutely no blood relation.
They only treated me a little better because of my grandfather.
But even though I was the one who suggested this dangerous method, he was willing to do it with me in this perilous situation.
She is infinitely better than this child's so-called mother.
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