At twenty-six, with 800,000 yuan in debt and a philosophy degree left unfinished, Wang Shouben's life was already miserable enough.
Then, on the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, the battered old book by the kang opened all by itself.
Five bickering spirits who called themselves “immortals” jumped out: the talkative Uncle Huang Er, the master of cutting remarks Granny Bai Wu, the stone-faced Lord Liu San, the thieving Lord Hui Si, and the elusive Grand Lord Hu San. They said Grandma had sealed them in the book sixty years ago, but the seal was weakening, and they wanted Wang Shouben to become their spirit medium.
Wang Shouben thought fortune had finally smiled on his family, but apart from helping him take a punch from a debt collector, the five immortals were completely useless.
Then strange things began happening in the village: Widow Liu's hair turned white overnight, the old willow tree sang opera in the middle of the night, a weasel stole a chicken and delivered a message, and Zhang Laowai suddenly died, leaving behind a hand-drawn map.
Only then did Wang Shouben notice an old photograph tucked into the final page of Grandma's book. Someone's face had been torn off.
Who was the person in the photograph? How many secrets had Grandma kept all those years?
That torn-away face was waiting for Wang Shouben to uncover it.
