The Evil Infant's Haunted Tomb

My name is Ye Wuxing.

I'm twenty-four years old. I left the army a year ago, and now I work as an editor at a newspaper, writing outlandish stories about ghosts, immortals, and the like.

Of course, "outlandish" is how it seems only to people who take stories for nothing more than stories. At least, in my eyes, this world is full of all kinds of wonders. It's no surprise that some things defy explanation.

An old Taoist priest chose my name. The reason he gave me a name that looks ordinary on the surface but carries a profound meaning is tied to a terrifying experience my family had before I was born.

Our ancestors lived in the countryside and were farmers through and through. My grandfather was a village schoolteacher all his life. He often taught my father to treat others kindly, and in all his years, he never once fell out with anyone. In our area, everyone for miles around knew him as a good-hearted man.

But when it came to my father, things took a turn for the worse.