Twelve Rules for Tying Paper

My name is Lin Yan, and I am the descendant of the century-old "Lin Ji Paper Shop". After my grandfather left, I guarded this old shop, and I only dared to faithfully abide by the twelve ancestral precepts - the paper man will not leave the shop without blinking his eyes, and he will not take care of the baby when he is young, and the reward must be divided into three parts... But last month, a strange customer knocked on the door four times and insisted that I make a living body substitute. I refused, but he slammed the door and left with a lot of anger. From that day on, strange things have haunted me: the paper figures in the shop would move in the middle of the night, the grandfather in the portrait suddenly opened his eyes, and even the old locust tree at the entrance of the alley was dripping blood-like droplets at midnight. Only then did I realize that my grandfather had not left. He was hiding in the shop and abiding by the rules. This shop was no ordinary paper shop, but the "Yin Street Entrance" that connected the two realms of Yin and Yang. The paper figures I made can suppress evil spirits and attract souls; the twelve rules I abide by are the iron rules for survival in both the Yin and Yang worlds. Some people offered me thousands of gold to buy me a pair of scissors, some offered me a hundred taels of gold to beg me to break a rule, and there were still some Yinwu who knelt at the door of the shop and begged me to make a paper horse to carry my soul... I just wanted to hang out in the shop, but I was involved in a yin and yang game that spanned a hundred years. It was not until the end that I understood that these twelve rules were not shackles, but my ancestral skills - paper-tying was not for burning the dead, it was my authority to establish the order of yin and yang.