On the day the tomb was moved, a hand was dug up from the back mountain.
His nails are three inches long, and he wears a jade ring exactly like my grandfather's.
That night, the hand walked around the village all night just to write one word on the ground:
"Run."
I didn't run.
Then I discovered that there were dozens of tablets and dozens of photos in the ancestral hall, all with the same face——
my face.
Grandpa said that three hundred years and five generations have all been "selected" by the thing in the tomb.
I'm the fifth.
The first four died in that tomb.
Now, a shadowless woman came to my door and said she could save my grandfather.
The condition is: accompany her to the tomb.
The moment the tomb door opened, I heard a voice that came from three hundred years ago:
"The fifth one... You are finally back."
It has been waiting for me for three hundred years.
But I don't know whether it is "me" or my life that is waiting.
