Lessons from the Republic of China

In the seventeenth year of the Republic of China, I bought back a piece of jade that was full of blood from the ghost market. From that day on, people around him died one after another, and the gaps between his fingernails were full of black soil. My name is Chen Shi, the eye-handling clerk at Liulichang. These eyes can see dead people. The Japanese, the White Russians, the horse bandits, and the northern and southern factions of tomb robbers chased me to Blackwater City for the half of the picture on the wall. Under the river bed, we have released what the Xixia people had suppressed for eight hundred years. But the bronze mirror in the tomb was cast eight hundred years ago, and it has my name and my birthday on the back. My dad entered that door and didn't come out for nineteen years. This time, let me go in.