Ouija Book in White

There was a hoarse sound hidden in Hu Xiaoning's heartbeat, which was the canyon carved by congenital heart disease in her ventricle. Growing up in the hospital's ticking sound and the smell of disinfectant, she understood the scale of life and the process of death earlier than anyone else. When I was fifteen years old, a thunderstorm hit the century-old laurel tree in the backyard of the hospital, awakening a sleeping consciousness. It is based on a trace of fear that Hu Xiaoning left behind when he was about to die at the age of seven, and was born in the annual rings of trees. Since then, Hu Xiaoning is no longer just a nurse. She became a "yin and yang operator" and lived in symbiosis with this osmanthus tree spirit with a century-old memory. She can "translate" the torrent of data that the tree spirit senses: the humidity in the underground water pipes, the unfinished vows trapped in the walls, and the energy echoes floating in the air. In her eyes, death is no longer the end, but an "unclosed circuit" that needs to be properly channeled. She made a law with the tree spirit: no plundering, no judgment, only protection. At the boundary between life and death, we guide the way for lost obsessions and retain the last dignity for the departing souls. It wasn't until the night of Chinese Valentine's Day that the resentment buried under the hospital for many years began to stir. A "Ghost King" cast from pain is coveting the pure crystal-like life energy of a girl. Faced with this crisis that went beyond the scope of medicine, Hu Xiaoning picked up a pen and drew the first symbol in the duty record book, a totem of electrocardiogram ripples and tree root rings overlapping. This is not a confrontation, but a declaration: There is a Lord here.