The Eerie-Eyed Taoist: A Record of Trading Fear for Ten Thousand Hauntings

It was growing dark, like a huge piece of black cloth slowly falling over the sky, blotting out the last traces of sunset.

The mountain wind howled through the woods, sounding like vengeful ghosts sobbing under their breath. It sent a chill down the spine.

On the border of the Great Zhao Dynasty lay a remote little mountain village, unknown to most. At that moment, an eerie silence hung over the entire place.

Ning Chengzhen, a young Daoist in a tattered robe, was walking toward the village with his master. His master was an old Daoist with a scraggly beard and perpetually bleary, drunken eyes.

“Master, I’m telling you, this place feels really creepy!” Ning Chengzhen whispered, leaning close to his master's ear.

The old Daoist burped after a drink and mumbled, “Creepy? As long as there's booze, who cares!”

Ning Chengzhen rolled his eyes, utterly exasperated.