Bonesmith

In Xiangxi Miejiangao, the last bamboo weaver died on the bamboo weaving bench, holding a gray-white bamboo strip in his hand. On the day of the funeral, eight people could not carry the coffin, and black water seeped from underneath the coffin. On the third night of the wake, the coffin lid moved away by itself - a hand stretched out, skin and bones, with black nails, as if it had been buried for hundreds of years. That hand is not grandpa's. Lin Ye, a senior student, wanted to leave after the funeral, but was dragged into his fate eight hundred years ago by an ancestral "bone strip". Chieftain King Peng Shian was waiting for a pair of straw sandals made of bone strips in his tomb. The ancestors of the Lin family made a bone coffin for him and owed thirty-five human bones. Now, the creditor's hand has reached out of the coffin. Grandpa failed to learn the art of weaving bone bamboo strips and died on the bamboo strips maker's bench. Now, it's Lin Ye's turn. Carrying a bamboo knife, a pair of straw sandals, and a missing page of the "Bamboo Craftsman's Sutra", he climbed over the bamboo craftsman's ridge where no one was allowed to speak, passed through the ghost forest where he had to walk backwards, and walked towards the tomb of the chieftain king, which was made of 1,008 human bones. But his grandfather left a sentence that he still couldn't understand - "Bone straw sandals are not for human beings to wear." Who is it for? Live as a bamboo craftsman, and die as a craftsman to pay your debts. Open this book and enter the deepest secrets of Xiangxi. Every bone is a human life.