My Grandfather Vanished Five Years Ago. I Found Him at the Last Place He Was Seen

My grandfather vanished five years ago. In the register from the last place he was seen, I found a seventh name. Su Qingyue, a provincial newspaper reporter with the innate ability to see yin and yang. She spent three years investigating her grandfather Su Jiping’s disappearance. The trail led to an old temple west of the city that had been struck from the official records. Inside was a black-lacquered coffin sealed around a flying jiangshi. The register listed six names. The seventh had no name, only a talisman drawn in its place. It was her grandfather’s handwriting. Uncle Six, guardian of the seal at Meishan, had three flying jiangshi claw marks on his left arm that had never healed in twenty years. He said, “Your grandfather was a guardian of the seal. He kept whatever was inside from getting out. He went in three years ago and never came back.” “He went in?” “He sealed the coffin with his own body. A living person lies inside and uses their body to hold down whatever’s in the coffin.” At midnight the day after tomorrow, the flying jiangshi would break out. The Blood Daoist launched a night raid with puppet worms. A gray shadow watched from a utility pole, and the names in the register turned into the names of the dead, one by one. Su Qingyue clutched the red cord her grandfather had left behind. Eight characters were carved into it: “If you find this cord, do not enter the old temple.” She had already gone inside. And the coffin was knocking from within.