My name is Lin Ying. I'm an embalmer at a funeral home. When I was ten, after a car accident, I touched my grandmother's cooling hand and gained the ability to sense the emotions of the dead. This gift made me the best person in the city at “fixing faces,” and a monster in everyone else's eyes. The time I told the truth, I got a diagnosis and three months in a psychiatric ward.
[Him]
Gu Yuan, a homicide detective, was the only boy who stood up for me ten years ago. He comes to me with the case of a bride who fell to her death, supposedly already solved. “Something's missing from this case.” “What?” “The truth.”
What I sense can only point me in a direction, never serve as evidence. So all I can do is show him the way. Catching the culprit still depends on his chain of evidence. That's our agreement, and my only shackle.
[The Truth]
Before the killer in the bride case was caught, they left behind a message: Someone taught me how.
Following that lead, we uncovered every suicide and accident from the past ten years that had been “solved too quickly.” In the corner of each case file was the same mark: a set of scales, one side lowered and the other raised.
Someone stood on the other side of the scales.
If I'm wrong, no one's there to save me.
If I'm right, I might be the first to die.
