In the room, there was a coffin lying empty on the ground. There were no offerings—no incense or candles. All that accompanied it was a cold, stiff corpse. The room felt cold, and aside from the coffin, there was nothing else—just the broken window letting in an indescribable chill.

  A faint sound came from the room. The lid of the coffin slowly shifted to the right, and a perfectly intact, plump hand reached out. Although the lid fell with a loud noise, in this secluded backyard, no one would happen to hear it.

  "The weather tonight is really terrible—more clouds again. What the hell is that bastard of a sky doing? Always wearing such a sour face!" She had become used to speaking this way; if she didn't curse at least once a day, she would feel uncomfortable. She casually put a handful of sunflower seeds into her mouth. The seeds were taken from the coffin. She chewed carelessly for a few moments before spitting out both the shells and kernels, her face contorted with anger as she cursed, "What crappy seeds, they taste awful." Afterward, she threw the seeds aside.

  She picked up the needle and thread, having decided that tonight she would finish sewing the st golden-edged red button. The thread was very fine, and her hands were quite plump, but despite that, the delicate thread seemed to dance with elegance in her full hands.

  There were eight buttons in total, and all of them were perfectly sewn back into their original pces. She smiled with satisfaction as the st thread was used up and the final button was sewn on. She stood up, turned left and right, admiring the colorful new clothes she had just finished making. The clothes were done, the buttons were sewn, and she opened the door, ready to treat herself well tonight.

  The so-called backyard was a circur courtyard, situated a little further from the main house. In the courtyard was only one room, which typically served as a temporary resting pce for the bodies of ordinary monks from the temple after they passed away. She cleared her throat, then flicked her long sleeves. Her plump waist suddenly straightened, and a pair of pink embroidered shoes adorned her rge, chubby feet.

  The excess flesh, having no space to spare, was squeezed tightly into the shoes, causing the embroidered peony flowers to lose their shape. The sound came from her short, thick throat, accompanied by a slight nasal tone, as she gently spoke and, with each word, swung her rge sleeves, moving her chubby figure into various poses.

  "Ah!" A sudden scream echoed from the wall, followed by a loud "thud," and then a series of rushing "whooshing" sounds, as if someone had quickly run away.

  She gnced sideways in the direction of the noise, a faint smile spreading across her face. She extended her fingers, forming an orchid shape, and gently poked her face with them, continuing to hum the tune she had been singing.

  "Ghost! Ghost! It's a ghost!" The once silent temple was abruptly disrupted by these few shrill cries. The monks, still groggy and wearing untidy robes, rushed in from all directions, heading straight for the temple's rgest hall, the Spirit Awakening Hall.

  Yi Neng sat on the ground, his legs trembling uncontrolbly, his egg-shaped head swaying from side to side as though possessed.

  "What happened?" Yuan Jue stretched his arm into his sleeve and shook his clothes, asking.

  "Senior Brother, there's a ghost! There really is a ghost!" Yi Neng suddenly sprang up from the ground with an unexpected burst of energy, grabbing Yuan Jue's arm and shouting loudly.

  "Are you crazy? Ghosts? What nonsense! There's no such thing. You look more like you've been possessed by a ghost!" Yuan Jue angrily shrugged off Yi Neng's hand and scolded.

  "I'm not lying to you, Senior Brother! There really is a ghost, and it's a female ghost! I saw her with my own eyes; she′s in the backyard!" Yi Neng defended himself, the veins on his forehead tightening as he spoke.

  "The backyard?" Yuan Jue froze for a moment. Isn't that where Yi Xian's body was pced? And how could there possibly be a woman in the temple? But seeing Yi Neng's panicked expression, he didn't seem to be lying.

  "We should go check it out," Kong Bei said, suddenly appearing behind the group. The beads in his hand gave off a faint sound, but his face looked unusually grim.

  The backyard was eerily quiet, so quiet that even the sound of a needle falling to the ground could be heard. But there were no needles, and not a single figure was visible, let alone the shadow of a ghost.

  "I clearly heard someone singing opera just now; that's why I leaned against the wall to take a look, and I saw a fat woman dancing and singing in the middle of the yard. She was dressed in an opera costume with thick makeup, looking just like a ghost! No, she was a ghost!" Yi Neng was still trembling, unable to fully recover from the shock.

  "You're just babbling. I think you're too scared. You must have seen or heard something wrong," Yuan Jue mocked, and the others burst into ughter.

  Yi Neng described the ghost in opera clothes, but Kong Bei didn't ugh. He couldn't. He thought of Xue Qiuqiu, remembered her voice, tinged with a hint of sadness. He would never forget it. Just moments ago, he had heard that same voice coming from Yi Kong.

  The door was open, as if someone had just opened it, and everyone fell silent.

  Kong Bei hesitated for a moment, then took the first step inside. Yuan Jue quickly followed, and the others stood at the doorway, craning their necks to peer inside.

  The room was empty, except for an old, shabby coffin. To his surprise, there was something dark beside it, something that looked like sunflower seeds. Sunflower seeds! Kong Bei's heart skipped a beat, and he hesitated before extending his hand to lift the coffin lid.

  There was no woman, no woman at all, only...

  Yi Jing y quietly in the coffin, wearing a well-fitting new outfit. The fabric looked fine, and the colors were vibrant, with eight red buttons trimmed with gold thread gleaming against the fabric. It was a costume, a woman's costume, and it fit Yi Jing perfectly. However, the costume was tightly fastened to his body, as if it had been sewn onto him.

  Yuan Jue sat down on the ground, having searched for Yi Jing all day, thinking he had gone off to sck. He never expected to find him lying in the coffin, the one where Yi Xian had once id. But if Yi Jing was in the coffin, where was Yi Xian′s body now?