Chapter 2

Plum Blossom Fragrance Array, Coffin Nails

An aged coffin lay silently in the damp, shadowy grave pit.

As Lin Ye lifted the lid, a wave of nauseating decay assaulted his senses.

Inside,

a faded, wrinkled burial shroud rested within the coffin.

Time had long since stripped its once-vibrant hues, leaving behind a dull, ashen pallor.

Surrounding the shroud lay piles upon piles of bones—some intact, others fragmented—jumbled together in a grotesque, macabre tableau.

Lin Ye shivered involuntarily before steeling himself against the stench to begin gathering.

Ding! System Notification: "Congratulations! Obtained ×100 Yin Wood!"

Ding! System Notification: "Congratulations! Obtained ×1 Burial Shroud!"

Ding! System Notification: "Congratulations! Obtained ×27 Bones!"

Ding! System Notification: "Congratulations! Obtained ×14 Corpse Oil!"

Ding! System Notification: ...

​​[Burial Shroud]​​

Type: Equipment

Grade: Ceremonial

Quantity: 1

Description: Offers minimal warmth. When worn, may cause certain entities to mistake the wearer as "one of their own."

⋯

​​[Bones]​​

Type: Material

Grade: Ceremonial

Quantity: 27

Description: Can be ground into bone powder. Rumored to cure specific ailments.

⋯

​​[Corpse Oil]​​

Type: Material

Grade: Ceremonial

Quantity: 14

Description: Can fuel corpse-oil lamps or be stored in specialized containers.

⋯

The hundred Yin Wood came from dismantling the coffin.

Without hesitation, Lin Ye donned the burial shroud. In the real world, wearing grave clothes would revolt him—but here, in this cemetery survival realm, all laws and norms had crumbled. Stubbornness and pride meant nothing. Hesitation only invited a crueler death.

The first grave exhausted its resources, flattening into barren earth.

Lin Ye still had two tomb-wandering spirits at his command,

but nightfall loomed.

He vividly recalled the survival manual’s warning: once darkness fell, the "neighbors" would stir.

He needed to return to his own grave pit—fast.

Ding! System Notification: "Conditions met! Upgrade territory now?"

​​"Upgrade!"​​

No hesitation. Survival here meant battling not just "neighbors," but hunger and cold. Though Lin Ye didn’t know how an upgraded grave might improve things, he trusted it would surpass a shroud-lined pit.

Ding! System Notification: "Territory upgraded! Rank elevated to [Desolate - Lower Tier]!"

Ding! System Notification: "Territory advancement reward: ×1 set of Coffin Nails!"

​​[Territory]:​​ Grave Mound

Rank: Desolate (Lower Tier)

Structures: Grave Mound, Coffin

Assets: 0

Description: The coffin beneath the mound now shields against wind and rain—but beware erosion during storms.

Upgrade Requirements: 500 Ghost Stones, 200 Nethersoil

⋯

The upgrade transformed his pit into a mounded grave of packed earth, burying a pitch-black wooden coffin beneath. Tonight, Lin Ye could sleep inside it.

The system had traded 200 Nethersoil for the mound, and 100 Yin Wood for the coffin itself. Standing beside the grave, Lin Ye felt a sliver of relief.

The system’s reward—coffin nails. Time to inspect them.

Lin Ye crouched inside his coffin, settling into a corner as ember-glow bloomed—courtesy of the system, requiring only fuel from the occupant. He lit a corpse-oil lamp, then examined the nails:

​​[Coffin Nails]​​

Type: Tool

Grade: Longevity

Quantity: 7

Description: Infuse with refined blood to wield against low-tier spectral entities.

A lifeline. Unlike common Ceremonial-grade tools, these ranked at Longevity.

Seven nails, each targeting limbs, crown, navel, and groin when activated by blood.

Reduced victims to bubbling sludge.

Not bad.

Treating myself to an offering, Lin Ye mused, peeling a banana.

Surplus on night one—clothed, sheltered, fed.

A rare flicker of satisfaction warmed him.

Too alert to sleep, he browsed the chat feed:

"Starving! Anyone spare food?"

"Grave offerings right there. Why not take them?"

"Terrified the occupant might knock on my coffin tonight."

"So you upgraded? How without grave-robbing?"

An open secret by dusk: shrouded pits could evolve into coffins.

"Scavenged dirt and dead branches instead."

"Your talent?"

"Incense Crafting. Useless for digging. My upgrade reward was a Longevity-tier Plum Blossom Fragrance Array—niche but limited."

A theory surfaced:

"Three incense sticks determine fortune: even burn means an empty grave to loot; two short + one long warns of occupants."

The incense crafter demurred:

"Can’t deploy until tomorrow. Who knows what climbs out mid-ritual tonight?"

"Rough spot," someone sympathized.

"Trade? I’ll give incense for corpse oil. Lamp’s dying."

No corpse oil—he’d skipped grave-robbing. When reserves drained, his coffin would plunge into darkness.

"Rolled the dice today. Found an ownerless grave—few offerings, but got oil. Trade?"

"Candle Maker here, Incense Master—partner up long-term?"

Resources scarce on day one.

Lin Ye ultimately traded him supplies—his grave-robbing talent meant food could be replenished tomorrow.

The incense, though? That was survival insurance.