Han Fei's entire attention was focused on the four paintings until Huang Ying let out a cry of surprise, prompting him to turn his head.
All the windows in the bedroom were closed, yet the sheets were slightly moving, and something like black paint was dripping from beneath the bed frame, emitting a strong stench.
Han Fei and Huang Ying approached bit by bit, and he lifted the sheets, revealing beneath the old wooden single bed a mass of shedding scars and cracked black cocoons, looking extremely eerie.
"I think I've seen this in Butterfly's nightmare before." Huang Ying stepped back, pointing at the black cocoon fragments. "In the nightmare, Butterfly transformed into my mother, and every time he changed shape, similar black cocoons would fall off, but the fragments on his body weren't pure black; they had colorful patterns."
