Alarm bells rang in Zhang Qi's mind. When he was buried, the iron nails used to close the coffin had been removed without his knowledge.
The coffin, originally coated with special black lacquer, should not have rotted for many years. However, soil has seeped into the nail holes, and all the nail holes show signs of decay.
This indicates that someone came to rob the grave after the burial.
Cheng Muyun pursed his lips tightly, and the veins on his forehead bulged slightly from the effort.
Together with Zhang Qi, he held up one corner of the coffin lid, took a deep breath, and exerted force. The heavy wooden plank creaked and was forcibly pried open, creating a crack.
The cool moonlight broke free from the clouds and poured down, shining directly into the coffin.
They both held their breath.
The coffin was lined with thick brocade, and the burial items that should have been buried with their owner—her jade hairpin, her favorite celadon bottle, and the jade pendant he had given her—were all neatly arranged in their original places, not a single item missing.
The only thing missing was the person who should have been lying there; they had vanished.
The shovel in Zhang Qi's hand fell to the ground with a "clatter." His mouth was agape, his eyes were wide open, and he was frozen in place, too shocked to utter a single word.
How could that be? He was clearly present at the burial...
Upon seeing the inside of the coffin, Cheng Muyun froze for a moment, then a very soft, incredulous laugh escaped his throat, gradually growing into an uncontrollable "hahaha."
There was no madness in that laughter, only extreme ecstasy, like someone who had traversed an endless night finally seeing the dawn, like a dying person grasping at the last straw.
But as he was laughing, warm tears suddenly slid down his cheeks and landed on the cold earth.
He raised his hand to wipe it away, but the more he wiped, the more there was. In the end, his laughter choked in his throat and turned into a suppressed sob.
Half laughter, half tears.
The pain, despair, longing, and resentment that had been building up for more than half a year erupted at this moment, and were also enveloped by the immense joy of regaining what was lost, weaving together into an almost tearing emotion.
She didn't die.
He really didn't die.
Zhuohua did not die; the person in the coffin was Hu Moli.
Chen Hede must be someone who knew the truth; only he had the ability to send someone to infiltrate the Cheng family's ancestral graves and steal Hu Moli's body.
Cheng Muyun blamed himself for being in too much pain at the time, for not having any suspicion about Hu Moli's death.
Chen Hede hastily "buried" Hu Moli and even went so far as to smear her with opium, which Cheng Muyun hated the most. He must feel guilty towards Hu Moli.
Cheng Muyun had grasped Chen Hede's intentions perfectly, so he concluded that Chen Hede would definitely find a way to move Hu Moli's body away.
While he was digging the grave, he kept hoping that the coffin would be empty.
He guessed right.
The joy surged over him like a tidal wave, almost overwhelming him.
The most exhilarating thing in the world must be getting something back after losing it!
In the past six months, Cheng Muyun has cried his eyes out, and he knows the taste of tears better than anyone else.
But at this moment, Cheng Muyun felt that his tears were sweet and his heart was warm. The bright moonlight made him unable to open his eyes, and he was enveloped in a dizzying feeling as if he were in heaven.
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