The Coffin Man

There was an old coffin in our home. On the first and fifteenth day of every month, Grandpa had me paint it with red and black lacquer. This went on for years, but he never told me why. It was only after I turned eighteen and was buried alive inside that old coffin that I gradually uncovered one secret after another. From then on, I embarked on a very different path in life. Three calamities and six tribulations, nine coffins crossing together: ferrying people, demons, and restless souls! The Yellow Springs sealed forever, three lives of helplessness, all for the moment the other shore's flowers bloom!