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The moon was dark and the wind high, and the sound of shoveling continued.
Li Yan and Sha Lifei worked hard digging, while Old Wu sat in meditation nearby.
His meditation posture was somewhat peculiar.
He lay on the ground facing the sky, legs bent, soles together, somewhat resembling a yang-resting position, but with palms misaligned in a strange hand gesture.
After a moment, he suddenly opened his eyes, flipped up like a carp, and his expression changed entirely, his eyes becoming bright and sharp.
"All right!"
Glancing at the deep pit on the ground, Old Wu said in a deep voice, "There are deities three feet above, and three feet below one reaches the underworld. This distance is enough. Lift the coffin!"
Upon hearing this, Li Yan and Sha Lifei quickly tossed aside their shovels.
First, they scattered Five-Colored Soil, then poured a bottle of rice wine, and finally lifted a nearby thin-shell coffin, placing it slowly into the pit.
What is a thin-shell coffin?
