Burial Sutras

The night rain knocked on the window, making a crackling sound on the old glass. Chen Yuan put down the magnifying glass and rubbed his sore eyebrows. On the workbench, the bronze key that had just been found from the depths of the wooden box belonging to my grandfather glowed with a faint green light under the desk lamp. The key has an old-fashioned shape, and the twenty-eight constellations pattern engraved on the handle is so smooth that it doesn't look like a thousand-year-old antique, but rather like some kind of sophisticated modern micro-carving. He discovered the key when he was sorting through the pile of old papers left by his grandfather Chen Guanshan, the last truly talented Feng Shui master in Jiangnan. It lay quietly in the cover of a hand-written "The Heart of the Burial Sutra". Along with it, there was a note written in cinnabar with a ferocious handwriting: "The dragon vein hangs upside down, and the underworld opens the door; once the blood curse is activated, the soul will be cut off in seven days."