On his third night shift, a corpse clutched Chen Guan's sleeve and refused to go into the furnace.
He pried open its stiff fingers and found a slip of paper in its palm, printed with ten rules. The first nine were a night watchman's duties. Blood obscured the tenth. When he wiped it clean, the words beneath read: Whoever breaks the ninth rule will take his place in the furnace tonight.
Chen Guan is a night-shift funeral director at the Linjiang Funeral Home. He's poor, practical, and good with money. His younger sister, Chen Nuan, is waiting for dialysis, and he has to earn money. He discovers that he can see the original wording of the rules appearing on the hands of every dead person, and even change it. Change one word, and he can redirect the death sentence to someone else.
The price is that every word he changes makes him forget a memory of his sister.
The words remain, but her smile is gone. The math is easy, but figuring it out doesn't help.
The rules aren't superstition. They're laws laid down by someone. There are Rule-Makers and Rule-Enforcers. His master, Old Bai, died ten years ago, but the building rules he left behind state: Rule-Maker of this building, Bai Shouye. His master's final words were just one sentence: Don't trust any rule you've revised.
When Chen Guan's name appears on the inspection list, he finally realizes that every word he's changed is pushing him closer to the cremation furnace.
