The Forbidden Living

Niu Shisan's creepy stare gave me the chills, like frost creeping over a coffin lid. His eyes had this weird, intense glow that made my spine tingle. "Why are you looking at me like I'm already dead?" I snapped, my voice bouncing around the dim apartment, the words hanging in the air like a ghost.

He laughed, a dry, raspy sound like leaves scraping over concrete, like it carried the weight of a thousand years. "These red marks," he pointed at my palms with his bony finger, "they're not just random. They mean you're part of some burial ritual. The Corpse Herder's got you marked for the coffin, and there's no way out."

His words hit me like a funeral bell, echoing deep in my soul. The afternoon light through the dirty window turned everything blood-red, casting a spooky glow as Niu started rambling about Qing Dynasty burial stuff—how these red symbols were supposed to seal a corpse's soul from wandering spirits, making sure it got to the afterlife. "He's prepping your body for possession," Niu finished, cigarette smoke curling around him like ghostly fingers.

Fear settled in my gut like a cold, heavy weight, threatening to crush me. "What did I do to deserve this?" I whispered, my voice shaky with fear.

"Maybe you stepped where you shouldn't have," Niu said, his eyes drifting to the shoebox of cursed cash, the air around it shimmering with bad vibes. "The address you got—we've gotta check it out tonight. It's the key to saving you... or sealing your fate."

The taxi ride was like peeling back another layer of this nightmare. The city lights flickered like dying candles as we got closer. The driver's nicotine-stained hands gripped the wheel, his knuckles white with fear. "That house..." he muttered, his voice trembling, "it eats people alive. My boss ran out screaming about ghost women in bloody qipaos, their wails echoing through the halls."

The driver's story spilled out in the stale air of the cab—a merchant's mistress who killed herself, her despair soaking into the house's bricks, a curse that wouldn't die. "They found her wrists sl*t in the bathtub," he whispered, barely audible over the engine's hum, "the water turned pink, but the tub kept overflowing with blood for weeks, like it was crying for her."

I handed him a cursed bill, the numbers blurring like ghostly writing, the money almost pulsing in my hand. "Come back at midnight," I told him, the red marks on my palms burning like fresh wounds, a constant reminder of the ritual I was trapped in.

Niu was waiting in the shadows of an old pagoda, his bag stuffed with Taoist tools, the air around him thick with incense and ancient magic. The moonlight drained all color from the world as we approached the villa's iron gates—twisted, blackened fingers against the dark sky, like they were alive with bad energy. Somewhere inside, a shutter banged like chattering teeth, sending a chill down my spine.

"Watch this," Niu whispered, sprinkling grave dirt on the ground. The particles swirled unnaturally, spiraling toward the boarded-up windows, a sign the dead were restless. "They're angry tonight, and they're looking for a way out."

My key turned with a screech, the sound echoing through the silent foyer like a death knell. The air was thick with the smell of jasmine and iron—the stench of decay, clinging to the back of my throat. Our flashlights trembled over water-stained walls, something dark and sticky oozing between the cracks, like the walls were bleeding with the pain of the past.

A piece of porcelain crunched under my shoe, the sound sharp in the heavy silence. We froze as laughter rang out from upstairs, each note sharper than the last, like it was cutting through reality itself. Niu's compass spun wildly before the needle snapped off, useless against the overwhelming ghostly energy.

"Her anger's out of control," he muttered, pulling out a spirit tablet wrapped in yellow talismans, the paper fluttering like it was caught in an invisible breeze. "Get ready—we're walking into a soul's worst nightmare, a place no living person should ever go."

The stairs creaked under our feet, each step releasing wisps of mist that curled around our ankles, the air thick with the smell of damp earth and decay. At the landing, the moonlight...

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Glossary (Sorted by logical importance in the text)

1. Red Marks

- Cultural Prototype: These red marks come from the secret "Sealing the Soul Burial" practice in Xiangxi during the Qing Dynasty. They're made with cinnabar mixed with corpse oil, used to calm restless spirits and keep evil hauntings at bay. In the story, they show up as a fancy version of the "Soul-Locking Pattern", looking like an upside-down Bagua. This design hints that the main character is turning into a bridge between the living and the dead, kinda like a pawn in a bigger game.

- Plot Function: These marks, left by the mysterious Corpse Herder, match up with a cut on the wrist of a ghost in a bloody qipao later on. This mirroring shows that both the main character and the ghost are caught up in the same creepy ritual.

2. Corpse Herder

- Folklore Origin: The Corpse Herder is a twisted version of the old Corpse-Driving Masters from Xiangxi. Instead of using talismans to guide the dead home, they use shady "Yin Contracts" like cursed money to trick the living into becoming sacrifices. You can tell a Corpse Herder is around by the "Nine-Nether Copper Bell", hinted at by the numbers on the cursed cash.

- Narrative Symbolism: This character shows how old funeral customs are getting messed up by modern stuff. Taxis replace paper sedan chairs, and modern money takes the place of ghost money, showing the clash between old and new in urban horror.

3. Old Pagoda

- Architectural Metaphor: This eight-sided building lines up with the Bagua directions, but its shadow is tilted by 17 degrees, messing up the feng shui. This probably happened during the Republic of China era because of road construction, which let out the anger of a female ghost.

- Magical Artifact Details: The "Thunder-Struck Jujube Wood Talisman" in Niu Shisan's bag has a mistake—it says "Pass from the Netherworld" instead of "Order of the Five Thunders". This makes you wonder if Niu Shisan is really a Taoist priest and hints that he might betray someone later.

4. Bloody Qipaos

- Historical Projection: These qipaos remind us of the sad mass suicide of Shanghai dance-hall girls in the 1930s. The story's "blood flowing from the faucet" echoes the 1947 bloodshed at Xinxin Department Store. The merchant's concubine, who killed herself with a porcelain shard, has her lingering anger shown in the qipao's color—bright red at the top fading to a dark brownish-red at the bottom, like time passing since her death.

- Spatial Curse: The villa's layout follows the scary "Nine-Palace Evil Formation". The creepy laughter from the second floor is actually echoes trapped in eight connected rooms, making compasses useless because of magnetic interference.

5. Cursed Cash

- Talisman Analysis: The numbers on the cursed money hide a reversed part of the "Amitabha Mantra". For example, "0481" matches the Sanskrit for "Om Mani Padme Hum". The taxi driver won't take the money because he sees a dead person's palm print on his hand after touching it.

- Ritual Logic: When the main character gives the cursed money, it's like signing a "Yin Debt Transfer" contract. The midnight meeting is a modern take on the old "Return of the Ghost at the Hour of the Rat", with the taxi replacing the traditional paper spirit carriage for the final trip.

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