Grandpa left him one rule: The violently dead must never be brought inside.
Chen Ke returns to the old street to take over the funeral shop. His first job arrives in the middle of the night: a body supposedly “fallen from a building.” As he sets up the funeral tent, keeps vigil, and dresses the deceased in burial clothes, he realizes the victim was smothered to death. There are marks of restraints on the wrists, and someone has secretly put the innermost burial garment on backward. Before dawn, the family rushes to cremate the body, burn the phone, and silence him with hush money.
The rules of this trade have long been twisted, one by one, to take lives. Chen Ke was born with a pair of eyes that can discern the rules. He can see which ones have been tampered with, but every time he sets one right, he must bear the backlash on behalf of the living.
There are no ghosts at all. More terrifying than ghosts are people who smile as they send someone out the door, then make your whole family count their money for them.
The last four words in Grandpa's handbook are: “Send life, borrow fate.” His father disappeared ten years ago over those very words.
