The Coffin Bearer of Wushan

Shen Yan: “Eighth Master, that building up ahead is practically overflowing with baleful energy. Fancy a late-night snack?”

Eighth Master (drowsy and disdainful): “A mere little evil spirit? It wouldn't even get stuck in my teeth. Can't you land a bigger job, kid? I'm starving following you around every day.”

Shen Yan: “All right, all right. You sure have high standards, old man. So, shall we head out?”

Eighth Master: “...Well, we're already here. Even a mosquito's leg is meat. Get inside. And remember, we split it seven-three. Seven for me, three for you.”

Shen Yan: “You can't even spend money! Fifty-fifty!”

Eighth Master: “Sixty-forty, or I'll ‘fall asleep’ right now and leave you to deal with it yourself.”

Shen Yan emerged from the depths of Wushan with one goal: make some money and eat something decent. The little black-iron coffin on his back, “Eighth Master,” loved to run its mouth and was both his only possession and his favorite target for complaints.

While others went to college, he roamed the city. While others fell in love, he sent vengeful spirits on their way.

Whenever feng shui masters were at a loss over a haunted house or a deadly formation, Shen Yan would knock on the coffin lid with a lollipop in his mouth. “Eighth Master, quit sleeping and get to work! Once we finish this job, I'll burn you an inflatable... ahem, a whole mountain of incense!”

Before long, a story began circulating through the city about a boy carrying a coffin.

Wherever he went, ghosts wailed and spirits howled, but there were also... plenty of laughs.

Until one day, he realized he was carrying more than just Eighth Master. He was also bearing a vast vortex that would engulf the world...