"Yin people are on the way, Yang people are retreating."
"Dingle bell, jingle bell."
Under the pouring rain, figures wearing raincoats walked on the muddy road.
The man at the front holds an eight-treasure glass lamp with a brass top and a copper bell.
The brass top shields the building from rain and also blocks some of the light.
The originally dim light became even dimmer.
Behind that man were six jumping figures.
A group of people came to a broken shop.
The store was dark and there were no lights on.
"Squeak"
"Lao Yang, the guests are behind the door, so you can't repair this broken door!"
The leading man didn't seem to care about the darkness, but the broken door annoyed him.
"I'm almost starving to death, so why bother repairing the door! This is your last trip!"
An old voice came from the dark shop.
"Well, it's the last trip."
The leader nodded.
"It's a pity that you are good at Taoism, but you ended up becoming a corpse chaser."
A yellowish light finally came from the dark store. An old man held an oil lamp in his hand, and used one hand to block the wind blowing in from outside the door.
"No one will be afraid of my face except you."
A flash of lightning illuminated the shabby shop, and the lower half of the man's face seemed to have been peeled off, covered with pink scars, and a pair of yellow teeth without lips were exposed to the air.
