My mother said, "I had been worshipping that religious statue for a long time, but later, a relative came to visit our home and said the statue was empty, the power had left and it wasn’t staying in our home anymore. They told me not to worship it anymore, otherwise it might attract unclean things."
"However, I couldn’t just dispose of it carelessly, let alone discard at will, could I? So, I have an idea. I locked the statue in the cabinet and wrapped red cloth over its eyes."
"People said the statue couldn't be exposed to light, or it would bring bloodshed. If your brother hadn't stopped you just now, you might have broken the taboo," my mother said.
I tried to speak up through the pain, but my words only brought harsher scolding.
“But I smell something rotting coming from the cabinet and it's getting worse …” I tried to explain.
“You keep going on and on about some terrible smell ... so what if you did smell something? It’s not like it’s killing you. You’re still walking, talking, eating just fine, aren’t you? I’ve never heard of someone being killed by a bad smell. Can’t you just stop already?”