Lantau Island, night.
The candlelight flickered as ink marks and animal carcasses lay scattered across the floor. Amid the intricate drawings, Madam Shi hugged a straw effigy to her chest, radiating with vitality.
The leader of the Gaoli ghosts, Chaoyi, held a ring-headed saber as nine people knelt before him with their hands and feet bound, their cries for help faint.
These people, men and women, old and young, each had their mouths stuffed with towels, their expressions filled with terror.
With a pinch behind the neck of the first man, Chaoyi raised his blade and swung it downward fiercely.
As a head fell to the ground, blood followed the ink and flowed in all directions. In an instant, the ink marks on the ground were replaced by a blood-red color so vibrant and otherworldly.
Splatters of blood dotted Madam Shi's face, but she seemed oblivious as the corpses lay before her with eyes wide open, their warm blood trickling out.
