Record of Reverse Fighting

The lamp in the ancestral grave was lit for me. My name is Bai Yang, and I do reverse fighting. Others go to graves to make money, but we go to graves to repay a life debt we incurred twenty years ago. The thing crawling out of the blood coffin in the Qinling Mountains recognized my name. The paper sedan used to call for souls at the ferry in western Hunan actually contained a body that had been disintegrated by my own hands during the day. That nursery rhyme that has been sung for three hundred years, "The paper man carries the sedan chair at the third watch, and the dead are welcomed by the fallen lanterns on birthdays." No one knows that it is a life-saving talisman passed down from my family's ancestors. Before my grandfather died, he wrote himself in the book. Now, it's my turn to be called upon. Lei Dapao carries the gun, and Zhong Jiu looks at the feng shui. On the day Su Leng came, the white lanterns on the mountain path were already half lit. Jinque's gang wants half of the evil map of earth veins. They don't know that the other half of the picture is in the jade cicada on my chest, and it's also in a trap laid out by a dead man twenty years ago. As soon as the tomb door opens, the lamp falls. People who have turned off their lamps will never be able to get out again in this life.