A Yin rose, looking in the direction of the sound, but she only saw the foggy shores of the Yellow Springs, a burst of wet wind blowing, easily darkening the sun. From a distance, the sound of a strange ringing rose intermittently, as if a woman who had dropped a long-decocting pot, and was quietly wailing; A Yin turned her head to look; it was a ghostly official bringing along a gaggle of wandering ghosts, muddle-headedly crossing over the Naihe Bridge. Those wandering ghosts had blank faces, their eyes like two inlaid marbles, rubbed lustrous by sandpaper, confused and muddied. A Yin shuddered. It was as if she were waking from a dream, for the first time realising that the Taishan Prefecture was different from the mortal realm.. Amongst the group, there was a woman in her thirties, wearing a dusty, worn, blue aozi, her hair half white, her movements slower than the others. She'd just stepped onto the Naihe Bridge when she was halted by the sound of the ghostly official's cal...