In the Moonlit Ghost Market, ghosts are the stall owners, and people are but passersby.
In this strange yet desolate exchange, some use poetry as money to acquire their "desired" item.
But ordinary poems cannot lead one out of the Ghost Market, the ghost says: "Humans, you're fooling yourselves... heeheehee."
Those who cannot create a poem must surrender some possession from their body.
The tragic ones, like Wei Tang, thereby lose a part of their foundation.
Others lose a finger, a toe, an ear, an eye...
Some even directly lose an arm, while others who fail to create a poem and lose no belongings are lightly pointed at by the White Bone Ghost from afar.
Just that one point, and the person clutches their stomach and falls to the ground in pain.
"It hurts so much, help me..."
But such cries of agony usually last but a moment before a white bone hand materializes to cover the sufferer's mouth.
