In the coffin shop of Peking Treasure Collection Class, sixteen-year-old Xia Yu suddenly opened her eyes at the sound of nails being nailed to the coffin. The "help" squeezed out of her throat was smashed on the wooden board by the old madam Cao Bao's pipe pot. At the same time, Tong Daxiang, who had just been sold into a brothel, was slamming into the corner with her torn prostitution contract in hand, and in the pool of blood at the feet of the turtle slaves, Li Lingyun's nails were digging deeply into the blue bricks - the fate of the three women was entangled in the bad luck of the 26th year of the Republic of China. From the coffin buried alive to the burnt smell of the soldering iron, from the grinding of the soles of the guests' boots to the half-stuffed buns secretly stuffed between the sisters, they counted the copper coins received amidst the curses of "salt pork" and saw the light in each other's eyes as the hanging rope swayed.
