Grandpa has been fishing for corpses in the Yellow River for thirty years. On the day he fished me out, he washed his hands in a golden basin on the spot. He said that there were nine evil coffins standing in the water, each with my name engraved on it, and in the last one, I was smiling at him.
From that day on, I couldn't see my face.
Until the river-suppressing curse burned nine blood marks on my back, the Yellow River flowed back three thousand miles, and a hundred thousand Yin soldiers came on the waves - the things sealed in my body woke up.
