The thing Wen Huan regretted most in his life was to bury his dead self with his own hands. What's even weirder is that I died, but I was still alive to accept the order - the inheritor of the secret technique of late night burial must sew up the three souls and seven souls of the deceased. The whole city laughed at me for being a lunatic who puts makeup on dead people, but no one knew that every stitch I sewed was the last scream of an innocent soul.
When I opened my ghost eyes and saw things that others could not see, those high-ranking dignitaries finally panicked. They knelt in front of my mourning hall and begged me to stop. I stroked the cinnabar line and chuckled: "Don't worry, it will be your turn tomorrow night."
One needle locks cause and effect, and all ghosts knock on Yama. Since the injustice in this world will not be punished by God, then I will do it.
