The three sticks of incense were about to be offered into the incense altar.
With a crack, they extinguished.
The merchants trembled, their faces bleak. They tried to borrow fire again to offer incense, yet it extinguished once more.
Twice the incense extinguished, and the couple dared not attempt a third time. They sat leaning against each other, trying to get closer to Chen Yi and the others, yet not too close—keeping a distance of two or three feet.
The rain roared, faintly rumbling with thunder beneath black clouds. Chen Yi's empty eyes appeared as if he were dozing, while beside him, Yin Tingxue sat under his towering shadow, nibbling on a bun.
Yin Tingxue inadvertently raised her head.
In the dim light, the couple's faces were pale, growing increasingly haggard, resembling puppets on a stage...
"Xin'er, blame your father and mother for their lack of fortune. Money is destined to be taken, but not spent..."
