Late at night in an old house on the outskirts of the city, black blood oozed from the bronze mirror. The back of the woman combing her hair in the mirror gradually overlapped with Su Wan's reflection. As the last gravekeeper of the Su family, she has been haunted by the curse of "July and Half of the Year of Guiwei" since she was a child - every rainy night, the freezer door of the morgue will pop open by itself, the call bell of the abandoned ward of the inpatient department always rings at three o'clock in the morning, and the sound of the Republic of China bride combing her hair in the mirror has lingered in her ears for twenty years.
In order to find her missing sister Su Ting, Su Wan was forced to unlock the seal of the bronze mirror, but found that she and the bride in the mirror shared the same umbilical cord of fate: they were both "living tombstones" selected by the observer civilization, and they had used flesh and blood to suppress the ghost gate for generations. When the city's neon lights turned into a bloody curtain of ghosts walking at night, and the last subway train that had been out of service for twenty years carried transparent passengers to the "non-existent" fourth platform, Su Wan had to use breast milk to nurture the quantum fetus, use the inscription as a blade, and compete with higher civilizations in the folds of time and space.
Every time a crack in the mirror is repaired, there will be another corpse spot on her body; in the sound of horse hooves used by the Yin soldiers, the afterimage of her sister always smiles under the blood moon and whispers: "Sister, you are the sacrifice." In this dimensional war spanning the Republic of China and modern times, Su Wan discovered that all supernatural events were just experimental parameters of higher civilizations, and that the real ghost gate to be sealed was hidden deep in her heart that gradually crystallized due to the curse.
When the bronze mirror reflected two choices - gouge out the heart to suppress ghosts and fall into darkness forever, or allow the ghost gate to engulf the living world, Su Wan carved a third path on his sister's last words on the desk stained red by blood: to use the gravekeeper's inscription as the mother's milk for nurturing the new world, even if her eyes will forever become the mirror pupils for observers to peer into the world.
