Di Renjie's Secret Records of the Netherworld

It was the middle of winter in the Daming Palace of the Tang Dynasty, and snowflakes were flying like goose feathers, covering the roof of the entire palace. The thin morning mist had not yet dissipated, but slight footsteps could be heard from deep in the courtyard. That was Di Renjie, the Prime Minister of Dali Temple. His steps were steady and steady, and his robes swayed slightly in the cold wind. "Master Di, what's the case?" A young guard asked respectfully. "Wait a moment." Di Renjie lowered his head and touched an unopened letter with his fingertips. There was no mark on the envelope, but it was sealed with a unique ink pad that he had never seen before, exuding an indescribable mysterious aura. He hesitated for a moment and tore open the envelope. Inside is a piece of tissue paper with a sentence written on it: "The dead whisper in the night, the blood stains the snow, and the truth is hidden in this tear." "This is..." Di Renjie frowned slightly, and immediately realized that this was not just an ordinary letter of notification, but more like a prophecy, a mystery that could not be ignored. He looked around and whispered, "Take me to see the dead." Di Renjie followed the guards out of the palace, stepped into the cold winter snow, and headed towards the west courtyard. The sky is getting brighter, and the white snow in the distance is like a layer of gauze covering the earth. Only those few drops of blood, bright red and dazzling, are imprinted on the pure white snow, as if they are the only color in this cold world.