I, the Immortal of the Horse, Start with the Blood Coffin to Suppress All Evils

On the day I was born, there was a heavy rain that had never happened in a century in the Northeast. The funeral procession walked through mud and water to carry a blood-red coffin into my yard. All the livestock in the village knelt all night. Twenty years later, I became the youngest Chumaxian in the Northeast. They all said that I was a "half-dead person" and that I was born to eat this bowl of yin and yang rice. Until I found the genealogy written in blood in my ancestral home - the names of all the ancestors who had achieved enlightenment had been crossed out with cinnabar.