Espionage: From the Start, I Dissected a Live Informant, Then Sewed the Intel Back Up in Tears

In 1939, at 76 Jisifeier Road in Shanghai, a den of horrors loomed.

Here, human life was worthless, and secrets cost more than gold.

Lin Jiu transmigrated into this world and became a reviled “special cleaner” (mortician/forensic examiner) in the General Affairs Office of 76.

He spent his days among corpses, his clothes permanently steeped in the smell of formalin. To the secret agents, he was a walking omen of bad luck; to the society ladies, a rat from the gutter to be avoided at all costs.

Yet no one knew that this taciturn, severely fastidious man was a “Night Watcher” who walked between the worlds of the living and the dead.

An ancient, impassive book, the [Yellow Springs Compendium], gave him the power to make the dead “speak.”

As his fingertips brushed cold skin, the departed’s memories played before him like a film, and every skill they had mastered in life passed on to him.