At 3:03 a.m., in the middle of a demolition site in Jiangcheng's old district, a lane that shouldn't exist quietly lit up. It was called Returning Souls Lane.
Thirty-one years ago, all sixty-nine households in the lane died in a “gas explosion” overnight. The authorities closed the case long ago, and the lane was razed to the ground. But at 3:03 a.m. on the first day of every month, it returns for one hour.
Chen Shi, twenty-two, was a graduate student specializing in forensic trace analysis at the Public Security University. He had ranked first in his major throughout his four undergraduate years and had participated in crime-scene investigations for three major cases as a trainee. Calm and restrained, he never took any unnecessary words at face value. Tonight, he had followed an old map left by his grandmother on her deathbed to find this place, because the man who died in the lane thirty-one years ago was his grandfather, whom he had never met.
The faded wooden sign at the entrance read Rules for Visitors.
One: When you see red lanterns, count to the seventh before looking up. Two: If someone calls you by your childhood nickname, don't turn around. They know more than just that. Three: The paper figures at the spirit-summoning shop are on sale tonight for three yuan and sixty cents. Bring exact change. Four: The noodle shop at the end of the lane is always open. Never go in for a bowl of noodles.
Chen Shi noticed that the lower-right corner of the sign said “Nine rules in total,” but only eight were listed.
The one that had been erased held the real secret to surviving Returning Souls Lane.
