The Paper Man Kowtowed to Me on the First Seven Nights of My Grandfather's Life

On the first night of my grandfather's seventh day, I kept vigil until midnight, and the pair of paper figures on the altar table suddenly moved. The boy knelt down and kowtowed to me: "Young master, you are back." My name is Shen Qing. I graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts and came back to take over the last paper-making shop in the old city. I thought it was a craft of making a living, until I discovered that - the paper figures I made can ward off disasters for living people; the paper chains I made can lock the breath that lingered in the Yellow River ten years ago; the paper horses I made can ask for directions and carry unfinished words to others. The whole city calls me "The Living Hell King of Baishi Street". Only I know that my grandfather left a message before he left, but before he could finish it - the paper horse in the main room that had been burned for thirty years had four words floating in the ashes: Don't take over the Chen family's job. [Seedlings seeking to collect] Smiling paper man, those who see him should take a detour