Lin Shen, a freshman in the Department of Archeology, received a forbidden letter that sealed the mark of Cthulhu. Bai Lu, a silver-haired girl with the 1924 serial number branded on her neck, came stepping on the floating corpse of a dead fish. The mobile phone camera captured the giant embryo swimming underground, the blood contract of the shrine witch Su Wan locked his alienated scale claws, and the laboratory of archeology professor Qin Zhao displayed the remains of his clone from a hundred years ago. When the memory corridor unveiled the imprint of time and space - parricide in a blizzard night, feeding blood to babies in the deep sea, burning widows' wedding dresses - his spine was growing eyeballs with the same frequency as the heirs of ancient gods. On the eve of the collapse of the Seventh Campus, three flesh-and-blood love letters were sent from the core of the earth: the proposal ring from 1924, the Henan wine from 2003, and the starry sky pupils that were proliferating in his chest.
