In the thirty-seventh year of the Republic, the old city's nights were never quiet.
A deep alley's ancient well concealed an innocence buried for half a lifetime; a deserted temple's clay statue held a compassion no one cared to remember; above an old opera house drifted songs that could never reach their final note; in the back room of an ancient pawnshop lay relics stained with blood and tears. The livelier the world of mortals grew, the lonelier the spirits in the shadows became. People feared wicked ghosts, never realizing that the most tragic souls in this world were those poor people who died unjustly, unable to let go of their obsessions.
The young Qiu Sheng was born with a pure yang body. He could see both yin and yang, and hear the voices of the dead. After moving into the old Lin family residence with Lin Zheng, a reclusive Taoist, the century-old black-covered book Strange Tales: One Hundred Percent began turning its pages by itself every night. One strange case each night, one tale of worldly life each night, one seal on each page: one hundred nights, one hundred regrets among the living, one hundred unfinished bonds.
Others hunted ghosts and suppressed evil, slaying murderous spirits with peachwood swords. But this master and disciple sought only to guide the dead, never to kill them. They did not make enemies of the departed or fight against their obsessions. They simply listened to a lifetime of grievances and restored justice to the world. The young mistress who tapped her shoes beside the ancient well, the famous performer who pleaded her case onstage, the weeping statue in the deserted temple, the lonely spirit waiting for its family at the mass grave... Behind every "ghost" lay a truth buried by time, a tragedy forgotten by the world.
Qiu Sheng thought he was simply following a path to deliver souls from suffering. It was only when he gradually uncovered the old cases that he discovered every strange tale was closely tied to his master's past, and every sealed page pointed toward a salvation left unfinished a century ago.
When the hundredth night arrived and the ancient book opened its final page, Qiu
