A cold wind whistled through the sky, while in the courtyard, heads rolled.
It was said that the imperial capital of Qian State was bustling. Especially during the Lantern Festival, the shops selling lamps would often erect seven or eight tiers of shelves, laden with all sorts of exquisite lanterns. Frequently, they would run out of space and have to cordon off a small area in front of the shelves, piling more lanterns there too.
No matter how beautiful a lamp, it will eventually burn out; human heads are much the same.
Though it was winter, flies weren't so diligent, nor maggots so dutiful. But these bloody human heads had first been rushed around all night, then packed into airtight boxes and jostled along the way. Once opened, the stench that billowed out... UGH...
