About This Novel
The night wind was biting, like a knife blade constantly cutting the cheeks of several passers-by. The middle-aged man who was leading the way raised his head and took a sip of the roasted knife in the wine bag before saying, "How long does it take to get there?" "Originally, we should have reached the place after halfway up the mountain, but the ghosts here are so evil that we can't be sure." A wretched man with a rat beard said from behind. "Trash!" The middle-aged man showed a row of yellow teeth. He swept away the dust on his body, and the clothes covered with a layer of dirt revealed his true colors. He was actually wearing the official uniform of a purple-robed head-catcher. The three people behind the man were wearing blue-robed police uniforms, and the last one was in ragged clothes, with iron shackles on his hands and feet. He was a prisoner. The moonlight moved slightly and shone behind the buttocks of several people, where there was a dark coffin.
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