Chang'an Mortal Records

About This Novel

In the 23rd year of Kaiyuan, the morning light under the sieve of locust leaves in Xi City, Chang'an was like broken gold. Chen Mo bit into the crispy shell of the candied haws, and the sweet and sour taste exploded on his tongue - this was the last sweetness before the troubled times. The gate of the square is about to open, and the sound of the copper bells of the Hu merchants' camels and the sound of the Wudang swordsman's breaking through the air are eerily intertwined on Zhuque Street. When Onmyoji's paper shikigami slipped through the crack of Wang's door, the sound of the three-year-old girl's rattle stopped abruptly. Chen Mo curled up in the rice vat and heard the sticky sound of flesh tearing from outside the glutinous rice bag. When the clapper struck at five o'clock, he stepped over the neighbor's rattle soaked in blood and climbed over the wall. The rustle of the paper man's wings came from behind, like pages turning in Yama's book of life and death.

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