After being soaked in water, the silver lines outlining the ghost mask on the handkerchief shifted, but like a spider crawling, they were messy and without discernible pattern.
Ling Yan picked up a nearby teacup that hadn't fallen and poured the tea onto the handkerchief as well.
The silver lines continued to change visibly.
Horizontal and vertical lines began to piece together and reorganize.
"What is this?"
Mu Yuan and Hou San pressed their heads together, their gazes fixed on the black handkerchief.
Ling Yan turned the handkerchief in a different direction. At this moment, Hou San pointed at the handkerchief and exclaimed loudly,
"Ah!"
Mu Yuan, who was closest to him and intently studying the new pattern on the handkerchief, was nearly scared out of his wits by the sudden shout.
Mu Yuan clenched his fist and thumped it down on Hou San's head.
Hou San hugged his head and shrank down on the table, his voice trembling with pain. "Yuan-ge, Ling-ge, this looks like a map."
