Ever since, Hu Guohua had joined the army and received considerable trust and promotion. However, in that era, the world was in chaos, a time of warring warlords. A force of just a hundred men could carve out a territory; today you might wipe me out, and tomorrow another would subdue you—few factions managed to survive long. The warlord faction Hu Guohua followed was never large, and within a year, it was shattered in the fight for territory by another warlord army. Those who hadn't died were scattered, and the warlord leader who promoted Hu Guohua fell dead from a bullet during the melee.

After the defeat, Hu Guohua fled back to his hometown. By then, the dilapidated shack that had been his home had long since collapsed. Having fled in haste, he had no money on him and hadn't eaten for two consecutive days. His craving for opium flared up. With no other options, he could only sell the pistol he carried to some bandits in exchange for some opium and grain to stave off immediate need.

He pondered, This can’t go on. This meager supply of grain and opium will only last three or five days at most. What happens when it’s all consumed? At that moment, he remembered the words spoken by the wandering spirit attached to the paper woman: when life became utterly unbearable, he should go to the desolate graveyard at Thirteen Li Shop and find a lonely grave without a headstone. She had promised that her burial treasures—gold and jewelry—would be there.

By now, having served as a soldier and fought in battles, Hu Guohua was far bolder than before. In the army, he had listened to a grizzled veteran talk at length about grave robbing, which the common folk also called "daodou" (unearthing the coffin). It was a surefire way to strike it rich, but getting caught meant losing your head. Thus, he dared not act in daylight. Steel-hearted, under a moonless, hazy night, he lit a wind lantern, hoisted a shovel, and set off for the cemetery at Thirteen Li Shop.

(The astute observer might ask: What is a maoyueliang? It is a night when the sky is clear of clouds, yet the moonlight is dim and diffuse. Of course, modern people understand this is a meteorological phenomenon, scientifically termed a corona, indicating an impending change in weather, likely strong winds. But in the rural areas of that era, who understood such scientific explanations? Some country folk called such a moon a "hairy moon," while others claimed that such dimly lit nights were when lonely spirits and ghosts loved to roam.)

Upon reaching the location, he first downed half a jin of the raw liquor he carried to bolster his courage. That night, the moon was cold and the stars frigid; a chilling wind whistled past. Patches of will-o'-the-wisps drifted above the grave mounds, occasionally punctuated by the strange cries of some unknown bird. The wind lantern in his hand flickered, threatening to extinguish at any moment.

Though he had just drunk, Hu Guohua broke out in a cold sweat from the sheer eeriness of the place. This time, the half-jin of shaodaozi liquor had been drunk in vain; it all sweated out through his pores.

Fortunately, this was a patch of wild graves, their origins unknown, with no signs of habitation nearby. He didn't fear being overheard if he shouted. Hu Guohua sang a few mountain ballads to keep his spirits up, but he didn't know many songs. After a few verses, he ran out of material and simply launched into the familiar tunes of "The Ballad of Five Watches of Love-Sickness" and "Eighteen Touches."

Hu Guohua forced himself forward, trembling, until he reached the center of the cluster of graves. There, just as promised, was a solitary grave lacking a headstone. In this desolate expanse of earth, this one grave appeared strikingly different.

What was stranger than the missing stele was that the coffin was not buried beneath the mound of earth; instead, it stood upright, jammed into the grave mound, with more than half of it exposed. The coffin looked brand new, boasting eighteen coats of gleaming vermilion lacquer, reflecting an eerie light under the crescent moon.

Hu Guohua felt a pang of unease. Why is this coffin positioned like this? Damn strange, there must be a trick to it. But since he had come this far, wouldn't it be a wasted trip if he didn't open it? Starving to death because he couldn't afford food was one death; dying from opium withdrawal because he couldn't afford dàyān was another. He might as well be strangled by a ghost for a quicker end. Damn it all, I’ve lived a life full of frustration. To hell with it, I’m going all the way down this road.

Having made up his mind, he swung his shovel to excavate the earth covering the lower half of the coffin. The entire casket was revealed. Hu Guohua, being a heavy opium smoker, had poor stamina; after digging only a little earth, he was already gasping for breath. He didn't rush to open the coffin. He sat on the ground, pulled out the furong gao he carried, and snorted a line into his nose.

Stimulated by the opium, his nerves ignited. He gritted his teeth, stood up, and used the shovel to pry open the lid. Inside lay a stunning corpse, her features vividly lifelike. Her face, however, was covered in a thick layer of white powder, and two large circles of red rouge were applied to her cheeks. Against the white base, they looked like two patches of red medicinal plaster. She was adorned in a phoenix crown and flowing robes, a bright red silk auspicious gown—she was dressed as a bride.

This female corpse was certainly not the broad-faced woman he had seen two years ago. That paper effigy had sent him to dig the grave two years prior. Even if the corpse had just been interred then, she should have decomposed by now, two years later. Could she have turned into a jiangshi (a hopping corpse)?

But at this moment, Hu Guohua could no longer care less. His eyes were fixed only on the jewelry adorning the corpse in the coffin. These emeralds and gems glittered enticingly in the light of the wind lantern. Beside her lay stacks of silver dollars wrapped in red paper, along with numerous gold bars—the amount was uncountable.

He had struck it rich! Hu Guohua reached out to snag the emerald ring on the corpse’s finger. As soon as his hand moved forward, the female corpse suddenly flipped her arm and seized his wrist. Her grip was impossibly strong; her steel-hook-like fingernails, over an inch long, sank deep into the flesh of Hu Guohua’s wrist. He couldn't pull free. Hu Guohua was in agonizing pain and terror, unsure what to do.

The female corpse opened her eyes, shooting two rays of sinister, chilling light. Touched by her gaze, Hu Guohua shivered uncontrollably, as if he had plunged into an ice cave; even his breath plumed out as visible white vapor.

The female corpse let out a cold laugh and spoke: "You scoundrel are truly consumed by greed. A lowly creature like you would do anything for money, wouldn't you? I see your heart is useless; I might as well take it for safekeeping."

Hu Guohua was shocked that she wanted his heart; that absolutely could not happen. He hastily pleaded, "No... no..." The female corpse cut him short, ripped off his clothes, and slashed across his chest with her long nails. A living, beating heart popped out of Hu Guohua’s chest. The female corpse snatched it, swallowed it whole in one bloody gulp without even chewing.

Hu Guohua was greatly startled. He looked down and saw only a scar where his chest had been. He felt no pain, only a growing fuzziness in his consciousness. He couldn't recall what had just happened, only prostrating himself on the ground and repeatedly kowtowing to the female corpse.

The female corpse sat atop the upright coffin and coldly told Hu Guohua: "You are now my puppet, and I will not treat you poorly. I will grant you splendor and wealth. You will lead sixty-four women to this graveyard for me to eat their hearts. If you fail in the slightest, I will take your dog life first."

At this point, how could Hu Guohua dare to disobey? The narrative reveals that the female corpse was an ancient shimo (corpse demon) over a hundred years old. To avoid some impending tribulation, she could not leave this hidden burial ground temporarily. Thus, she schemed to trick a gold-hungry man like Hu Guohua into digging up the grave, then used coercion and temptation to force him to capture innocent young women for her to devour their hearts alive. Once she had consumed the hearts of sixty-four women, even an immortal descending from heaven could not stop her.

Hu Guohua fled the Thirteen Li Shop graveyard in utter terror, having soiled himself from fright. Upon returning, he first stole a pair of drying trousers from his neighbor to change into. He thought, This is a real mess. I don't even have a wife, where am I supposed to find women for this demon? Then he remembered that something important had been taken from him by the monster, though he couldn't recall what it was—only that it was extremely important. If he couldn't find women to feed her, his life would be forfeit. What was he to do?

Lost in thought, his hand brushed against the two gold bars in the pocket of the smelly trousers he had swapped for. These were the very items the female corpse had bestowed upon him. Hu Guohua frowned and hatched a terrible idea. Ah, for the sake of living, he had to betray his conscience. Thinking of "conscience" made him feel strange, but he couldn't dwell on it now. The most important thing was that a disgraceful life was better than death. Integrity could wait.

The next morning, he first went to the county seat to exchange the gold bars for silver dollars, then found an opium den and indulged himself until satisfied. He spent ten silver dollars in a poor mountain village and bought a girl of seventeen or eighteen. In the early Republican era, although the trade of human beings was strictly forbidden by decree, the common people were too poor to survive