Who is it?
Knock, knock, knock.
Who could it be at such a late hour?
Qi Wu'er hurriedly lifted his head and glanced outside. It was too dark to see any outlines.
His deceased wife, Qi Zhao, also shrank closer to the coffin, ready to leap back into the lid at any moment.
Knock, knock, knock...
The knocking continued.
Outside, there was a faint sound of the night watchman's drum mixed with the wind. Half past midnight, the entire county town should be dreaming away...
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock!
The sound of knuckles rapping on the wooden door suddenly became urgent, like a frenzied wooden fish drum beating in the dead of night.
Cold sweat appeared on Qi Wu'er's forehead. He dared not move, fearing something might leap out from behind the door.
Something nudged him from behind.
Turning around in the dim candlelight, he saw the pale face of his deceased wife, her murky eyes staring straight at him.
For a moment, Qi Wu'er's blood froze.
