Jiang Si crawls out of his coffin and comes face-to-face with Uncle Jiu’s stern, scrutinizing gaze. He instantly scrambles back inside and, in a stroke of genius, nails the coffin lid shut himself. But at midnight, someone taps the lid three times, and Uncle Jiu’s gentle voice comes from outside: “Interested in our self-service corpse-raising package?” Even more terrifying, a certain ancestor of the undead drawls from behind him, “New guy, Uncle Jiu’s place offers monthly glutinous rice baths, and if you renew for ten thousand years, you get a peachwood sword massage for free...”
