Notes of Mr. Yin Yang

In the ancestral hall on the back mountain, there is an unmarked tablet belonging to a person who is not from my tribe, which is ranked the highest, but has been worshiped with incense for thousands of years. In a cemetery in the western suburbs, there are people dressed in white sitting there day and night, not knowing whether they are human beings or ghosts. They are the most unjust and arrogant people in the world. On the east bank of the river, there is a monkey who often comes to drink water to quench his thirst. The kindness of a drop of water may not always be repaid by a spring. The main road leads forward, the campus subdues the female ghost who died in vain, and the emperor is fighting side by side with the first emperor in the imperial mausoleum. The zombie king is endlessly chasing and killing, and one sword cuts off the ancestors of the Yin and Yang masters of Japan. My name is Zhang Fuyao, and this is my story. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.