"I know, I know, old man. I've gone over it so many times. You want me to recite it for you right now?"
"I know she doesn't eat celery, tomatoes, or cilantro. Ugh, young people these days are so picky. Not like us back in our day. We ate everything!"
The old woman muttered to herself, her voice tinged with disgust.
"Don't talk like that. And don't just call me whatever you want when the time comes. We can't let anyone find out something's amiss!"
"Relax! I know what I'm doing."
The two plotted, paying no mind to Ming Yue lying in the coffin. To them, she was just an idiot and posed no threat whatsoever.
But Ming Yue, who only appeared to be fast asleep, was clenching her fists so tightly her nails dug sharply into her palms.
Every word they spoke reached her ears, and her mind recalled what Mo An had told her.
