Folklore

In remote mountain villages, strange things happen and stranger tales are told.

Corpse retrieval, spirit possession, talisman water, the paper-effigy craft, the Temple of the Five Immortals, rice divination and crossing into the underworld, the flood dragon’s run from Yin Mountain…

I walk beyond the crowds and the mundane world, living through one hidden, uncanny event after another–things ordinary people could never glimpse.

Now, I will tell them to you.

In ancient, remote places, many eerie and terrifying things are bound to happen.

And these things happen right around Hua Jiunan.

In fact, Hua Jiunan is a part of these events himself.

For instance, he is a Corpse-Born Child!

I was born on the First Day of the Eighth Month in the Year of the Wood Rooster. I came into this world with a single tuft of white hair on my head. The midwife said I was a solitary Yan bird born in mourning, and that if my family kept me, one of us would die every three years.

To save my life, my grandmother pawned me as a Dead Pawn to a pawnshop in Wufu Town to serve as a sacrificial offering.

After being cast aside so many times and living under the roofs of others, I learned from a young age to be sweet and obedient.

Who would have thought that eighteen years later, I would become the true Manager of that pawnshop?

I speak the softest words, cling to the strongest allies, and collect the most powerful Yin Evil Objects!

Welcome to Spirit Snake Pawnshop!

Liu Junyan (Snake Lord): “Xiao Jiu, you were the one who provoked me first this time! If you try to run, I’ll break your legs.”

Hu Yulin (Fox Lord): “Xiao Jiu, no matter what happens, you can always come to me. I’ll be waiting.”

Feng Xianqiu (Phoenix Master): “Xiao Jiu, you’ve had your fun. It’s time to come home.”

Over the weekend, while I was out grocery shopping, someone shoved a red envelope into my hand.

Inside was a note: [Three years of your life have been borrowed. If you pass this on or drop it in a merit box, your entire family will perish.]

Clutching the 900 yuan, I chuckled and chased after the person.

“Are you sure you want to try life‑borrowing from me?”

She shot me a glare, barked “Psychopath!” and spun around to bolt.

I couldn’t help but smile. To think someone actually had the nerve to try life‑borrowing from one of the Living Dead.

In the Fifth Year of Taiyuan, at the Start of Summer, a princess died in the Beiliang Royal Palace.

And a toad.

Anping was that unfortunate princess.

And I was that unfortunate toad.

Fortunately, since her death, I have become her.

My virginity was sold by my family to a seventy-year-old tycoon for the steep price of one million yuan.

The price was fair, all things considered. After all, I wasn’t just selling my virtue; I was selling my life.

On our wedding night, the old man squeezed my throat and asked, “Do you have any final wishes?”

To stay alive, I told him three stories.

And then, I made a prophecy.

“You will die within my third story.”

My sister went to Yunnan to teach as a volunteer, but shortly after, she vanished.

All she left behind was a bizarre post on her social media feed:

“Black dogs grow white scales, the Flesh Well blinks with a thousand eyes, and humanity cannot escape Ailao Mountain!”

After failing to reach her privately, I turned to the police for help, but they refused to open a case.

Left with no other choice, I had to travel to Yunnan alone.

At that time, I had no idea that the terrifying truth buried deep beneath the surface had already begun to emerge…

The Mountain God’s Bride The day I was sold into Blackstone Village, they told me I was to be the Mountain God’s bride.

One month later, I walked back out from the mountains wearing a red bridal gown, stilt-walking, and wearing a Nuo mask.

Behind me, a three-mile-long Fire Dragon illuminated the main street.

On behalf of the Mountain God, I asked them: “We remember every girl you’ve sent in over the years. Are your own daughters ready?”

My cousin is dead.

His hands were tied to a ceiling beam, and he was wearing a red dress over a swimsuit-a swimsuit that was still dripping wet.

The police report claimed it was a suicide.

But I know he didn’t kill himself. And I know who’s next.

It’s me. There is no escape.

At three in the morning, the funeral home’s Morgue was only supposed to have five registered bodies, yet I found a sixth, unregistered, nameless female corpse in locker number six.

A slip of paper was pressed against her chest with nothing but my name written on it.

Even more terrifying was the moment my hand brushed her wrist; I saw the last seven seconds of her life and heard her raspy, blood-choked voice whisper: “Shen Nian, don’t trust your father.”

That was the night I realized that sometimes, the dead don’t come to say goodbye-they come to reopen a case.