The Years I Drew Signs at the Police Station

Li Fugui, a small policeman with no ambition, selfishness and slickness, dug out the ancestral dark green jade pendant in the dilapidated house in his hometown that was about to be demolished. He thought he could at least get the difference in compensation for the demolition, but he didn't expect that a drop of blood would pull him into a strange stone room three meters square that would be lonely forever. A skeleton with its own sternum broken into pieces, a taboo book with skin as paper and blood as book, an "ancestor" who was expelled from Maoshan and died in madness and regret, a... "Inheritance" that forcibly combines Xuanmen talismans and demonic soul-eating techniques. The evil spirit enters the body like an ice knife scraping the bones, and drawing the talismans consumes one's mind and life. When Li Fugui collapsed on the cold concrete floor of the rental house and vomited to the sky, all he wanted to do was scold his mother. But when he held the first crooked but truly breathtaking "soul-deterring charm" and looked through the one-way glass of the interrogation room at the arrogant and domineering murderer who had left him helpless, breaking down and crying in invisible fear, and explaining everything like pouring beans from a bamboo tube - The pleasure of controlling other people's lives and deaths, mixed with nausea and dizziness, made him tremble all over. Fuck the rules and regulations, Fuck procedural justice. This power is a bit dirty, but it's really useful. Since then, there has been a "lucky general" in the police force. He always has unexpected "clues" for unsolved cases; stubborn murderers always have inexplicable mental breakdowns in front of him. The records in the merit book are becoming more and more dazzling, and the police titles on the shoulders are quietly changing. Flowers, applause, awe-inspiring gazes, and those skirts with different styles that come either actively or by attraction.