Chapter 2 — The Night Graveyard

Night — as silent as death.

Especially in this graveyard, where the dead slumber, it was now so still that only the sound of breathing remained.

Deep in Cangshan, Yangbi, Yunnan, between rows of tightly packed tombstones, what echoed now — over and over — were harsh, stifled breaths. The breaths of the living.

An iron shovel scraped against the hardened soil again and again. In the pitch-black graveyard, the sound was as sharp and clear as if each strike landed directly on a human skull. Occasionally, a night owl let out a sharp, jarring cry, which rippled through the pine forest shivering under the touch of the night wind.

In the shadowy, ashen sky, a thin crescent moon cast a dim, cold light onto a freshly dug grave. A coffin, bearing the distinct local style of Yangbi, lay quietly exposed, its form faint and nearly blending into the earth. The burnt ashes atop the grave, stirred by the night breeze, swirled and scattered into the air.

Several shadowy figures, fully encased in thick protective suits, were busy moving something back and forth.

One of them signaled toward the grave. “Can we open it now?”

A hoarse woman’s voice answered, “Open it.”

As the coffin nails creaked and were pried loose with a sharp crack, a tall man leaned toward the woman and whispered, “Are you sure we’re not about to unleash an even more terrifying demon?”

“What’s wrong? Didn’t your Prophet tell you?” Xu Zhiyi’s voice was calm, almost cold from its lack of warmth.

“No… he’s already disappeared…” Shen Si said quietly, his expression dark.