My Handwriting Was Written a Hundred Years Ago

After my master died, he left me an illustrated book of ghost stories. The first stop was Dry Well in Xiangxi. The bride I had been waiting for for four hundred years ended my obsession. The second stop, Wannan Ancestral Hall, I opened a vat of ink that had been sealed for hundreds of years—— There are five words floating on it: Shen Du came here for a trip. My name. My handwriting. Written a hundred years ago. Since then, there has been a red mark on my wrist that cannot be washed away. There was a woman in the dream who said "don't believe me" in my voice. There was also a young man who would never die. He had the exact same mark on his wrist as me. The last page of Master's notes read: The founder of the Guixu Society, which is exactly the same as Shen Du's handwriting. I don't know what Guixu is. All I know is that someone wrote my name hundreds of years ago. That person is myself.