Three years ago, Shen Yanzhi personally sent Jiang Ci to a mass grave, leaving only half of the blood-stained jade pendant as evidence.
Three years later, deep in the ghost market, a man in white stood smiling with a jade bell in his hand. The cinnabar moles at the corners of his eyes were as red as the blood he had shed back then.
"Mr. Shen, it's time to pay back what you owe me."
Jiang Ci is not dead.
This knowledge was like a poisoned ice pick, piercing Shen Yanzhi's already numb heart. He once thought that he was doing justice for heaven, but when he came back from his dream at midnight, he was awakened by the scar on his wrist bone - it was scratched by his own hands.
Ghost market transactions, old cases, mysterious deaths... Mysteries reunite the two. Shen Yanzhi wanted to atone for his sins, but Jiang Ci pressed forward step by step. There was an unbreakable coldness in his eyes, and the warmth that occasionally leaked out was like sugar tempered with poison.
When the truth peeled off the layers of blood scabs, Shen Yanzhi discovered that the "evil" he believed to be real back then was just a web carefully woven by someone. And he was the sharpest knife, cutting off the only light with his own hands.
When the jade bell rings again, is it a bell that threatens his life, or is it a bell that calls him back?
"Jiang Ci, what if I say... I regret it?"
"Regret?" The other party chuckled and stroked the old wound on his wrist with his fingertips. "Shen Yanzhi, my life was buried in a mass grave a long time ago. Those who are alive now are ghosts who come to collect debts from you."
