A City in the Mountains of the Foggy Capital: Fengdu

Before he died, Grandpa clutched my hand and said slowly through his toothless mouth, “Our Chen family has guarded the well outside Fengdu’s north gate for generations. Remember, every year on the fourteenth day of the seventh month, throw three jin of spirit money into the well, and write the recipient as ‘the Underworld’s Ministry of Revenue.’ If you ever forget…” He died before he could finish. This year, I forgot. It’s 1:23 a.m. on the fifteenth day of the seventh month. Someone is knocking at the door.