My name is Chen Mo. I was born in the sixth year of the Republic of China. I am over a hundred years old this year and I still look sixteen.
Not gods, not ghosts. It's a monster. My father paid for it with his life - that year he took me to a tomb. When the tomb collapsed, he pushed me into the coffin. I woke up again, holding a green stone in my hand, and my father was gone. From that day on, I didn't get any older. When injured, the blood dries on its own and the bones heal on their own.
Later I married a woman named Wang Xiaocui. She gave birth to three children for me, and I want to take care of her until she grows old. But the people in the village called me a monster and said I was responsible for the drought. That rainy night, she pushed me outside the door and said, "Don't look back." She raised three children by herself, and she placed a piece of paper with my name under the pillow, and traced it many, many times. When I received the letter, she had been dead for three years.
I also have a younger sister named Chen Xiu. Her innocence was ruined and she married into the Li family. Her mother-in-law disliked her and her husband beat her and later used her in business. When I carried her back, she was as light as a piece of paper. She asked me, "Brother, I don't have any strength." I said, "It's okay, I have strength."
This body cannot die, but it will remember every account. I wrote those names on the paper - Wang Tiezhu, Widow Wu, Wang Xiaofeng, Li Jizong. I'm not in a hurry. I have decades and can sort them out one by one. Everyone dies differently, and each person's death is tailor-made.
This is a story of monster revenge. It took me thirty years to settle old scores for my sister. I'm still waiting. Maybe one day, I can grow old too.
