However, clearly, no one would hold a crying contest, such a boring activity. Every intertwined cry carries the most genuine emotions, seemingly tugging at the listener's thoughts, like mourning for loved ones who have passed in the wake of a disaster.
Before long, Tang Ye arrived at the door. He paused for a moment in silence, then finally raised his hand to grasp the door, applying slight force. The door was unlocked, as if it had always been waiting for someone to enter.
The door opened silently under Tang Ye's touch, but the crying sounds suddenly amplified several times over. Behind the door, it was indeed a spacious room, yet within such a room, countless square furnaces were orderly arranged, impossible to count in that instant. Meanwhile, as the door opened, a wave of heat assaulted him; it seemed each square furnace contained a blazing fire burning something.
With a glance around, Tang Ye had already guessed what those square furnaces were.
They were crematoriums!
