The heavy rain hit the green and black tombstone, splashing turbid waves mixed with rotten soil. Lin Yan clutched the yellowed family tree and stepped through the mud of the barren tomb. He was the last male of the Lin family. Before he died, the elder of the clan held his wrist tightly and said that the roots of the Lin family's existence were hidden in the ancestral graves. He would come to add lamps every half of July. If the incense was cut off, something would crawl out of the graves and seek life...
