>There is a rule in our village that the dead must be guarded by the bodyguards for seven days.
>My grandfather guarded the body for thirty years, but before he died, he warned me: "Never come back to take over."
>While working outside, I was deceived by the village chief into returning to the village and was forced to inherit this business.
>On the first night of the funeral, the old man in the coffin suddenly sat up and grabbed my wrist.
>There was a gurgling sound in his throat: "Under the village... There are three thousand innocent souls buried..."
>I was so frightened that I wanted to run away, but found that the doors and windows of the ancestral hall were all locked.
>At this moment, I remembered the blacked-out words in my grandfather's notes:
>"The corpse guardians are not the guardians of the dead... But the guardians of the living..."
