Folk Eight Immortals: the Coffin I Carried Cannot Be Held Down by the Gods

My name is Chen Qingdi, and I am a coffin bearer. People in the industry call us the "Eight Immortals", and we are in the business of sending the dead to their last journey. An ordinary coffin needs eight people to carry it; a vicious coffin needs to be carried with a keel pole soaked in black dog blood. That day, the richest man in the capital dug up a bronze nine-dragon coffin dripping with black blood, and invited seventy-two monks and thirty-six Taoist priests to die in front of the coffin. The desperate richest man knelt before me and begged me to come out. I took a puff of dry cigarette and knocked on the pipe pot: "I took over this job. But the rules have to be changed. This coffin must be filled with the life of the richest man." The Eight Immortals get up on their sedan chairs, and strangers avoid them! I carried the bronze coffin on one shoulder and stepped on the yin and yang steps to suppress the evil energy of the earth veins. In this world, there is no coffin that I, Chen Qingdi, cannot lift, and there is no evil that I cannot suppress!