[Folk Mysteries + Tomb-Raiding Adventure + Chinese Horror + No System]
Three years ago, my father disappeared after leading a hydrological survey team into Wu Gorge. That same day, my right arm began turning to bronze, bit by bit.
Three years later, a survey team member who had already died knocked on the door of Yi’an Hall and delivered a bronze celestial compass sealed with the sound of water.
To find out what had happened to my father, Pang Dahai and I followed the sound of water into a tributary that didn’t exist on any map. There was no tomb entrance beneath the water, yet hundreds upon hundreds of coffins hung from the cavern ceiling; the list clearly had only six names, but the recording always contained a seventh breath; when the black umbrella opened, all the dead fell silent at once.
We soon discovered that those ancient tombs weren’t built to bury the dead, but to suppress something that could borrow the bodies, memories, and names of the living.
And my right arm was a key beginning to awaken.
