I am a night walker.
I died in the thirty-seventh year of the First Emperor, and there is no tombstone.
My name is Heifu, my brother exclaimed.
This is our story.
No sound, no light, no temperature. It was as if someone had been stuffed into a closed coffin, and even the air was frozen. He tried to move his fingers - he could move them. I tried to take a breath again - it was breathy, but very thin, with a rancid smell mixed with rotten straw and damp earth. This smell was all too familiar to him. Growing up in the countryside, every winter when the production team was fertilizing, this was the smell that came out of the ground. He opened his eyes, and the top of his head was dark. He stretched out his hand and touched a rough earth wall. His fingertips felt cold to the touch and slightly uneven - not cement, not bricks, but rammed earth.
