Twelve o'clock at midnight. There was not a breath of wind in the dead grass of the mass grave. The air was as thick as solidified glue, with a fishy smell mixed with rotting leaves and wet earth. Zhang San squatted in front of a half-collapsed solitary grave, holding a selfie stick made of branches tied together. The pale light from the screen shone on his mud-smeared face. He grinned, showing his big white teeth, and smiled innocently into the dark camera. "Family members, please pay attention so that you don't get lost." "I am Zhang San, the village guard." "Today, I will bring everyone to send a big rocket to the Lord of Hell and ask him to bless our village with good weather." In the upper right corner of the mobile phone screen, the number of people online showed: 3 people. This is a new number. The title of the live broadcast room is quite shocking - "Late Night Mass Grave: Bringing everyone to
