Infant bone garden

Author: Cheng Gang
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-08-01
Features: I love reading Cheng Gang's novels. Horror stories can be written by anyone, but not everyone can write them perfectly, smoothly, or in their own style. Scaring people is also an art. "The Garden of Infant Bones" is still enjoyable to read, with thrills, atmosphere, and like a perfectly prepared feast. — A Ran
"The Garden of Infant Bones" is not only an engaging plot-driven novel but also a finely crafted piece of literary art with profound thoughts. Its horror truly penetrates the heart, spreading from the words into your life. But before reading, remember my advice: if you are an unmarried girl or lack strong mental fortitude, please do not casually open this book. — Wang Chuan
The stories in the maternity ward are inherently mysterious. Through the words, I can smell the pungent formaldehyde and the faint, lingering scent of blood. Countless women lie on the delivery bed, expressing the eternal themes of survival and death through their agonized cries and vicious curses. Such writing can cause physiological shock. Fortunately, it only serves as a backdrop in "The Garden of Infant Bones." I wonder if anyone could finish reading the entire book if it were written entirely in this style. — Gao Wei
The story of "The Garden of Infant Bones" is set against the backdrop of a maternity ward, a place where life and death intersect, which becomes a nightmare in the life of a female doctor. Numerous stories unfold from this experience. I don’t know how Cheng Gang, as a man, could possess nearly professional knowledge of obstetrics and gynecology. Behind each shocking case, I felt how cruel survival truly is, and how life and death are intertwined. — Tan Lei
Lin Hong’s solitary room is filled with the subtle fragrance of another woman. She can sense the feelings of the mysterious woman in any way. The man in the raincoat in the downstairs flowerbed observes her, carrying the dead body of an infant. Countless newborns play in pools of blood, approaching her, ready to tear her apart and take the life of her unborn child. When she finally has a child, she loses it a few days later, replaced by a dried infant specimen. At the place where the children depart, the father stands in eternal vigilance.
Maternity wards have always been the gateway between two worlds, the threshold of life and death. Here, the boundaries between life and death have become blurred.