"Huh?"
In the courtyard, Ma Jianguo was startled by the sudden shout, sat up from the deck chair, and quickly walked over to open the courtyard door.
As expected, it was Old Wang from next door, gesturing wildly.
"What's all this fuss about? Looks like your ancestral grave is smoking."
Disturbed from his peace, Ma Jianguo spoke with a hint of displeasure.
Old Wang, however, pointed towards the direction of the back mountain, teasing with winks and nods:
"I'm serious, just look, that smoke's rising higher than the big feast fires in the village!"
"What nonsense are you spouting..."
Ma Jianguo grumbled irritably, but when he looked in the direction Old Wang pointed, his gaze suddenly froze.
At the near top of the back mountain, a column of gray-white smoke was rising straight up.
Like a pillar supporting the heavens, it shot skyward until it encountered the wind, slowly dispersing into a cloud cover.
This scene was truly peculiar.
