Folklore: The Xiangxi Corpse Driver

Before he died, Grandpa left behind two things: a battered notebook and a copper bell that would not ring.

He also left one warning: “Stay away from Chenxi Village.”

Shen Mo had been a good grandson for twenty-three years and never once went there. That changed when his university professor vanished mysteriously in Chenxi Village.

Every household had talismans pasted to its door, and after dark, no one dared open up. The village chief’s son had lost his soul. He lay in bed with his eyes open, his pupils unfocused. Granny Wang said his grandfather had not died of illness: he had fed his life to the cave behind the mountain.

What was inside the cave?

A secret the Shen family had guarded for three hundred years.

A man lay in a stone coffin. Three hundred years ago, to save a city, he swallowed all the baleful energy into his own body. The Shen family’s ancestor sealed him here, promising to release him once the energy had dissipated.

For three hundred years, every generation of the Shen family had fed one of their own to him.

Now it was Shen Mo’s turn.

He touched the copper bell in his pocket.

This time, it rang.