The Dirty Things the Elders Tell You

In the stillness of the night, with the oil lamp swaying, grandma's rough palms stroked the child's hair, and in a low voice, she talked about the sinister past hidden in the world of fireworks. They are not bizarre legends in the wilderness, but horrors rooted in ordinary days - the faceless white shadow that suddenly appears in the kitchen, the faint sound of hair being combed from the old well, the obsession with embroidered shoes that refuses to dissipate on the window sill, each of which hides the unwillingness and resentment of the soul. These stories are the warnings passed down orally from generation to generation by the older generation, and they are the awe engraved in the countryside. They hide in the smoke of firewood, rice, oil and salt, in the shadows of the corners of the old courtyard, and lurk in every seemingly ordinary daily scene: the old well drawing water in the morning, the stove for cooking and lighting, the empty room where old things are placed, and even a wisp of wind or a soft sound may be the whisper of the soul. Each chapter is an independent folk ghost story, and each story has the simplest sense of horror. There are no weird special effects, only a chill that permeates the details of life - doors that should not be broken into, objects that should not be touched, and precepts that should not be broken. Once they cross the line, they will be entangled by unwilling souls. In nightmares and fears, one can glimpse a sad past that has been dusted by time. Listening to grandma slowly speaking, those ghosts hidden in daily life, those hidden in ghost stories, those past events about awe and redemption, regret and concern, are unfolding little by little with the flame of the oil lamp. Every story is a warning; every past is a sigh. In the serial update, more sinister secrets hidden in the fireworks of the world will be unlocked.