When Xia Xin caught Wang Xinjun's gaze, he forced a dry laugh, perhaps it wasn't a sign, but rather...
Silently, Xia Xin looked toward the golden statue of the ancestral master, then glanced at Jiangli.
Jiangli tsks softly, fingers tapping lightly on the incense table, "Alright, old man, it's my fault. I forgot to change to the good agarwood for you. I'll go buy some and replace it later. Don't go scaring the young ones."
Wang Yao: "..."
He stared at Jiangli, feeling even more that something was amiss.
As her voice faded, Jiangli gave Xia Xin a look, "Bring over three more sticks of incense."
Xiaxin hurriedly fetched three more sticks of incense and, after lighting them, handed them to Wang Yao.
Although Wang Yao had never dealt with this before, he knew that having the incense break was definitely not a good omen.
He was afraid it might be some kind of sign.
Seeing the three sticks of incense in Xia Xin's hand, he feared they might break again.
