You're listening to an Airwave Media Podcast.

Hey there everyone, it's that time of the year again.

Cold winds, dead leaves, flickering lanterns in the windows.

That's right. It's time for another installment of Strange Tales from a Chibi studio.

This go round, we've got just one story from our teller, Poussong,

Ling, thanks in part to a poorly timed chess cold,

knocking me out of commission, and the entirely justifiable critique that I can't do a woman's voice to save my own life.

Even given this time abbreviated nature, I hope that you'll agree that it's still worth it in the end.

After all, what could be less restful

than being forced to sleep with the dead?

Unless that is, they stop being quite so dead.

The Living Dead By Pousong Ling

A Certain Old man of young Sheen came to live at Tsai village a few miles from my hometown.

Here he and his son opened a roadside tavern where travelers could put up for the night.

It became a regular halt for the many carters and itinerant merchants who plied their trade

on that route.

One evening, as dusk fell, four strangers arrived at the end and asked for lodging, only to be told that the landlord that every bed was taken.

They protested that it was too late for them to journey on and pleaded with him to take them in.

Finally, after much pondering and hesitation, he said that he could perhaps offer them a place for the night,

but that he feared it would not meet with their liking.

They replied that any lodging, even a mat in an outhouse, would suit them well.

They were in no position to be choosy.

...