Gu Yebai has lived here for seven years. His diagnosis reads: mixed grandiose and persecutory delusions.
He firmly believes he was once a Tribulation Transcendence Heavenly Venerable, sealed inside a mortal body by 108 “Immortal Realm traitors.”
He firmly believes the retired professor next door is the reincarnation of a Thunder Department deity, and that the old man who sneaks pills every day is genuinely cultivating immortality.
He firmly believes the pills he’s given each day are “seal-strengthening agents,” and in seven years, he hasn’t swallowed a single one.
Everyone says he’s imagining things.
Until, on a stormy night, the “Thunder Department deity” next door really does summon heavenly lightning.
Until the old man “cultivating immortality” really does have his dantian burst into flames.
Until the twelve-year-old girl who always says she’s “a ghost” points at him and says:
“You used to have 108 red ropes tied around you. Last night, one of them snapped.”
