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Wusuo Qingni Village
Autumn, seventeenth year of the Republic of China. I clutched the crumpled letter of introduction and rubbed my knuckles over the words "This is to send Shen Yan to Qingni Village to assist in investigating strange things." The carriage happened to run over a deep rut. The car curtain was lifted up by the wind, and a damp, cold moisture came in with the smell of rotting straw. I subconsciously wrapped myself in the washed white police uniform - this was the only thing I took with me when I resig
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Strange Things in Qingxi During the Republic of China
Shen Yanzhi stepped into Qingxi Town in the dusk, stepping on the smell of soot from the Shanghai-Nanjing Railway. Houses with black tiles and white walls are crowded on both sides of the river. The walls are peeling off into mottled gray, like the chapped wrinkles on the face of an old lady. The damp wind came over him with the smell of water and grass, and he subconsciously tightened the collar of his windbreaker - there was something else mixed in the wind, much like the sobs that leaked from
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Lock Red Shoes
The fog in Qingxi Village is alive. Just after Yinshi, Shen Yan's carriage got stuck in the mud at the entrance of the village. The sound of wheels running over rotten leaves was completely swallowed up by the fog. Only the horse lantern hanging on the shaft reflected a dim yellow circle in the white steam that was too thick to melt, like a dying one eye. He pushed open the car door, and the cold mist wrapped in moisture penetrated into his collar. In an instant, the washed white police uniform
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