On a stormy night, a light shines deep in the mountains.
Only after opening the door do you realize it isn’t an inn. It’s a place where people are assigned their order.
The landlady hands over a wooden token, its blood-soaked number faintly sticky.
“One” is the beginning, “Seven” the end, with six funerals between them.
Su Wan opens her palm. The number “Five” lies quietly there.
Her older brother’s token says “Seven,” while a stroke of the number “One” peeks out from between her best friend’s fingers.
When it’s Gu Yan’s turn, he flips his token over very slowly. The number “Three” glistens damply in the lamplight.
At that moment, the red dress beside the well begins to move.
“It’s been three years, Captain Gu.” Her voice is soft. “How much longer will you wait for your seventh funeral?”
So this is what they call the “Ghost Guest’s Funeral.”
There are only three rules:
The order must not be changed.
Do not listen to anything the woman in red says.
The person you trust most will be the quickest to hand you a knife.
At midnight, the first funeral begins right on time.
When “Two” disappears the next morning, the landlady dips her brush in ink and makes a small mark in the ledger. The breathing of everyone on the floor stops.
There are two nights left until “Five.”
Something hidden in her sleeve digs into her skin. Su Wan looks at her brother. He should have been the last one.
Rain streams from the eaves.
Gu Yan approaches, carrying the chill of well water.
“Don’t look at him. The person who walked away alive from the seventh funeral three years ago…
is the one who never truly escaped.”
The rain keeps falling.
Where are you in the queue?
Novel, surprising and full of meaning