Records of the Uncanny

Where lamplight flickers, the spirit of half a land is always hidden. The secrets that were painted over, torn away, or whispered amid the incense of wild sacrifices will finally awaken when moonlight spills through the gaps in the paper. Once you’ve closed this book, tuck a peachwood talisman into its front cover or stick your phone in some glutinous rice. After all, who can say whether some strange being lies dormant in these ink marks, waiting to be glimpsed?