Chapter 1: Scheming

I don't know if it's an illusion, but my second uncle's expression was quite strange. At one moment, I even felt as if half of his face was smiling. "I came to find you for this matter; it seems your father left in a hurry and forgot to lock up. We have a guest coming." At that time, I didn't react immediately, and when I understood, I couldn't help but be very surprised. The so-called 'guest' my second uncle mentioned was actually jargon, meaning there was a corpse that needed stitching. As a surgical intern, having been accustomed to these things since childhood, it was naturally not a difficult task for me. What puzzled me was why this matter had come to me, as my father had always been very opposed to my involvement in such things.

Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the inner room, as if someone was speaking inside. That inner room was specifically used by my father for stitching up corpses, and he never allowed us to enter. I was drenched in cold sweat, my mind went blank, and I turned to run out the door. I was running so fast that I collided directly with someone. I screamed loudly, but that person suddenly spoke, "Xiao Xi, what happened to you?"

At around 4 PM, while I was still working at the hospital, my phone suddenly rang. "Daughter, something has happened at home, you need to come back quickly..." My father's trembling voice came through the phone, seemingly trying to suppress some kind of fear. My heart sank, and I immediately wanted to ask what was wrong, but the call dropped instantly. I hurriedly called back, but my father's phone was turned off. I was taken aback and felt a vague sense of unease.

After a long day of turmoil, it was already past ten o'clock at night, and my father still had not returned. The more I thought about it, the more I felt that today's events were strange, especially the manner of death of those two individuals. As I pondered, my eyelids began to grow heavy, and in my dazed state, I heard someone speaking in the inner room

This ... ... left me almost speechless. Although I was accustomed to seeing corpses, I was genuinely startled by this appearance of death. After calming my emotions, I began to organize and stitch up, but my mind was filled with unending questions: what exactly had happened to them on the mountain

"Hurry up, I have things to do," Uncle Er urged impatiently, dragging out his words, a stark contrast to his demeanor just moments ago

I lost my mother at a young age, and I have a younger brother who is six years my junior. My father is a mortician, primarily engaged in sewing up corpses, a role similar to that of modern funeral beauticians. In Chinese culture, there is a strong emphasis on preserving the integrity of the body after death. Those who come to my father for his services are usually victims of sudden deaths, often in tragic conditions. To outsiders, this line of work may seem unsettling, but my father remains unfazed, often stating that using his skills to provide a final touch to their lives is, in a way, a form of virtue and kindness. Having witnessed so much, I have naturally come to fear it less.

I called my dad countless times along the way, but his phone was still off. I felt a bit anxious. By the time the car arrived at the station, it was already dark. I immediately rushed home. Just as I was about to knock on the door, I noticed it was slightly ajar. I instantly became alert and tentatively asked, "Dad? Little brother?" There was no response from anyone.

I cautiously opened the door and looked inside; the room was in complete disarray, as if it had just been ransacked. The floor was covered with black shoe prints, which were unusually large. I immediately recognized that they definitely did not belong to my father. It seemed that someone was searching for something. Next to the footprints were a few drops of an orange-yellow substance. I stepped closer to take a look and instantly gasped in shock; this was corpse wax

"Second Uncle, what happened at the mountain grave? These two people..." The room was eerily silent, and I could only hear my own breathing. Suddenly, I said something that startled Second Uncle; he had been focused on stitching up that guest, lost in his own thoughts.

Uncle Er seemed to sense my confusion and explained, "The archaeological team on the mountain encountered an accident, and the villagers have all rushed to help. Two guests have just arrived, and your father asked you to help organize things." After saying this, Uncle Er sighed and carried a body bag into the inner room. I suddenly remembered that I had just heard a sound from the inner room. I was about to remind Uncle Er, but he had already entered. I hurriedly followed him, peeking into the inner room. It was very small and almost completely visible; apart from the operating table and some tools, there was nothing else. Could it be that I had misheard the sound just now?

I was interning in the surgical department of a hospital in town when I received the call. I immediately requested leave and took a long-distance bus home, as the journey from the town to my hometown only takes 2 hours.

My hometown is a small mountain village called Laolongtou in Northeast China. The terrain of our entire village is higher in the east and lower in the west, resembling a giant dragon coiled up when viewed from a distance. The village is situated right in the belly of this coiled dragon, which extends into the dense forest not far from the village entrance. The elders in the village say that this dragon's coiling brings good feng shui, attracting divine spirits to protect us. However, very few outsiders dare to come here, and some even shun the topic entirely, as the entire village is engaged in the business of "fishing for the yin gate," which essentially means making money from the deceased.

On August 24, 2010, coincidentally, that day was the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month, also known as the Ghost Festival, the day of the year with the heaviest yin energy

I do not know when, but I found the room completely dark, and surprisingly, the light in the inner room was on. I gasped in shock and leaned forward to take a look. Suddenly, a bloodied face turned to look at me, and I quickly recoiled in fear. I could feel a chilling wind blowing from the inner room; there was someone inside. He was desperately pulling at his own head, glaring at me with malice. That person was my recent patient whom I had just stitched up, yet the sutures I had used were tightly entangled in his flesh. He was struggling to break free, his face contorted in extreme pain. I could feel a chilling wind blowing from the inner room; there was someone inside. He was desperately pulling at his own head, glaring at me with malice. That person was my recent patient whom I had just stitched up, yet the sutures I had used were tightly entangled in his flesh. He was struggling to break free, his face contorted in extreme pain.

I inhaled sharply, my hands trembling slightly as I stitched. During the process, I noticed a peculiar detail: both of them had identical tattoos over their hearts. At first glance, the tattoos resembled clock faces, but within the faces, there seemed to be some kind of symbols that I did not recognize

My name is Zhou Xi. I have spent five years in a place devoid of sunlight, accompanied by the eerie glow of human skin lanterns, living in a daze like a corpse. The story begins five years ago.

This voice seemed somewhat familiar, I calmed my emotions and looked closely, only to find it was my second uncle, who was staring at me with bloodshot eyes. "My dad said something happened at home, but he didn't specify what it was, and his phone is turned off. When I came back, the door was just left open..." I explained while glancing at the door to the inner room.

After I finished suturing, my second uncle wrapped them back in the body bag and gave me a grin, saying, "Goodbye—" His tone sounded as if he were bidding me farewell forever, which struck me as quite strange at the time

I turned on the dim light in the inner room, and my second uncle opened the body bag to place the two "guests" on the operating table. I retrieved the toolbox and pulled out the specialized needle and thread, preparing to begin the suturing. I glanced at the two corpses and immediately gasped in shock; their heads and necks were almost severed. The most bizarre aspect was the jagged and severely deformed wounds on their necks, giving the impression that the heads had been forcibly yanked off. Both deceased had their eyes wide open, their facial expressions contorted in extreme agony.

Uncle Er's expression was grave, and he involuntarily shivered slightly, seemingly reluctant to answer the question. After a moment's pause, he said: "There is a problem with that tomb on the mountain. The archaeological team has been digging for a long time, and what is surprisingly covered beneath the black soil is yellow sand. As soon as these two people stood on the yellow sand... they... sank into it..."

After my second uncle left, I tidied up the inner room and prepared to come out. My eyes caught sight of the shrine on the wall. My father had never allowed my siblings and me to enter this inner room. The shrine was covered with a yellow cloth, and I was very curious about what was inside. I tiptoed over and lifted the yellow cloth. What I found inside was somewhat unexpected: it was merely a dark red statue, which appeared to be a woman, intricately carved. She had her eyes closed and held what seemed to be a cone-shaped object in her hand. Her attire was quite peculiar, resembling an ancient long dress. I was still puzzled about who this statue represented.

"Are you trapped?" I emphasized my tone, pondering how sand is not quicksand, so how could it ensnare someone? What on earth did they encounter beneath the yellow sand that led to such a fate? Both individuals had their necks broken. I couldn't help but worry about my father and younger brother. Just as I was about to ask further, my second uncle's face suddenly darkened, reminiscent of when he first entered, a smile that was not quite a smile, illuminated by the dim yellow light in the room, sending a chill down my spine

Recently, a group of people came to our village, claiming to be archaeologists. They said that our area was an ancient battlefield from the Liao and Jin dynasties and that there might be large ancient tombs. Upon hearing this, my second uncle became quite excited and acted as their guide. The final excavation site was determined to be in the dense forest on the mountain. My father strongly opposed this when he heard about it, as that location happened to be where the dragon's head was situated. He stated that if the dragon's head were to be excavated, the village's natural protective barrier would disappear. A coiled dragon with a tail but no head is a sign of great misfortune. If there were to be ancient tombs as well, the entire village would turn into a place of gathering for negative energy. My second uncle, of course, scoffed at this, saying that my father was too superstitious and that it was an outdated belief to still trust in feng shui. They had argued about this matter several times.