In the first year of the First Emperor's reign, ghosts haunt Xianyang Palace.
The Confucian scholars say, “It’s a curse cast by a Chu shaman. He must be executed.”
The Yin-Yang School sorcerers say, “The dragon veins are disturbed. We must build an altar to gather yin and perform a sacrifice.”
Jing Zhao, a Chu shaman from a fallen state, is dragged into the heart of the storm. A black crow that feeds on evil spirits perches on his shoulder.
In court, the scholars demand that he expose the ghost before everyone. Jing Zhao slices open his palm and pulls a strand of life-stealing ghost thread from a roof beam.
The crow on his shoulder turns into a shadow and swoops down, swallowing it in one gulp.
The entire court falls silent.
The First Emperor lowers his eyes. “Someone has replaced the ritual vessels in the Imperial Ancestral Temple. Investigate.”
Zhao Gao arrives with a smile, carrying a register. “Lord Jing, these are the illicit shrines around Xianyang that need investigating. Oh, and a few of them are places the Yin-Yang School scholars have petitioned to have recognized as official shrines.”
Jing Zhao opens the first page. It reads: Yunmeng Marsh, Shrine of the Mountain Spirit.
That is Chu. That is my hometown.
“Fine,” Jing Zhao says, closing the register. “Then I’ll start at home and take them down one by one.”
A hundred schools contending? My crow could devour half the Yin-Yang School all by itself.
The dragon energy of Great Qin? That’s my crow’s emergency rations.
I am Jing Zhao, the last heir of the Chu shamans.
By order of the First Emperor, I investigate the false gods of the realm.
