Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 41: A Holiday Accident

Bai Shuangying’s concealment had no effect on Fang Xiu.

In Fang Xiu’s astonished gaze, Bai Shuangying made a light slice with two fingers, his sleeve fluttering like clouds and mist. In that instant, it was as if he had severed heaven and earth. Fang Xiu didn’t understand metaphysical arts, but he could vaguely sense that something connecting this place had been cut off.

It was severed so gently and naturally, like a fallen leaf dropping from its branch.

Li Shuo staggered in place for a couple of steps, the pitch black in his eyes instantly dispersing. He clutched his head and cursed on the spot, spewing a stream of curses. Fang Xiu tried to make sense of his dialect colorful language; it seemed Li Shuo was cursing the Underworld.

“What’s going on?” Fang Xiu hurried over and stopped by Bai Shuangying’s side.

Bai Shuangying spoke frankly. “The Underworld did something to him. If the E took damage while this ghost was still around, it would force him into a frenzy to kill.”

He paused, then added, “However, the spellwork was crude, and its power not strong. Most likely it wasn’t an official order, but a ghost officer acting on its own.”

Fang Xiu clicked his tongue. So Li Shuo was hit with a control spell, and his ghost had rushed in to break it. No wonder Bai Shuangying was the gold-medal support.

It seemed that while Bai Shuangying didn’t understand human nature as well as Fang Xiu, he definitely understood the Underworld better.

Fang Xiu asked, “Why would a ghost officer do something like that?”

“Li Shuo’s obsession isn’t that deep, and he still has reason. Otherwise, by a fierce ghost’s nature, there’s no way he’d just sit back and let you destroy the E.”

Bai Shuangying looked toward Li Shuo, who was still dizzy and disoriented. “When a human becomes a fierce ghost, it’s hard for them to have some towering, earth-shaking obsession. As time passes, that obsession fades, and most fierce ghosts naturally disappear.”

Fang Xiu could understand that. Otherwise, with so many people dead across the ages, the number of ghosts would have skyrocketed.

He thought it over. “The ghost officer sees Li Shuo is almost at the threshold of becoming a ghost immortal, and worries he’ll just let go of his obsession at the final moment, going soft on the match?”

Bai Shuangying nodded.

No wonder, Fang Xiu thought.

Back then, the Underworld hadn’t been so polite to Old Man Fu, even turning a blind eye when Fang Xiu killed him. Compared to Old Man Fu, whose ascension was a long shot, Li Shuo was clearly more valuable.

It wouldn’t be surprising if “raising a ghost immortal” counted toward some ghost officer’s performance review, so one of them pulling a dirty trick wasn’t shocking.

…Once he got out of here, he was definitely going to file a complaint!

“Damn it, I said stop dragging your feet and burn the photo already!” Li Shuo snapped, baring his teeth.

Fang Xiu took the lighter from Guan He and lit it again.

This time, the flames ignited smoothly.

Music vanished. The fireworks went silent.

In front of Fang Xiu, the beautiful night sky peeled away, revealing old, mildewed wallpaper. Where the full moon had been, there was actually a dust-covered ceramic Guanyin.

As the karma struck, Bai Shuangying suddenly flashed behind Fang Xiu, wrapping him fully in his arms. Fang Xiu didn’t have time to think before he was engulfed by the surging torrent of karma.

……

After cutting ties with his family, Li Shuo had been living in Anhe City in Gui Province.

In Anhe City, there was an old residential building, a relic from the last century. Each apartment was barely thirty square meters, and the structure was in terrible shape. The surrounding neighbors mockingly called it the “Hoodlum Building”…

The units were so run-down that nobody would buy them. Only shady types with nowhere else to go still lived there.

Li Shuo owned one of those apartments.

It had originally belonged to his grandmother. The décor was what the old lady had left behind, ugly and broken.

The most eye-catching spot in the living room still had a ceramic Guanyin statue. The statue looked cheap, but the old lady had burned incense and prayed to it every day, filling the unit with smoke.

Li Shuo had turned the place over to a “building manager”; someone who didn’t do contracts or check IDs and rented only to the city’s most down-and-out crowd.

The building manager took sixty percent of the rent as a management fee. Considering how hard the place was to manage, Li Shuo felt that was fair enough.

It was just a bit of cigarette money every month, he thought.

Truth be told, Li Shuo had dropped out after junior high and could only do menial work. He’d move goods in a supermarket and wait tables in a restaurant. He always felt the work was too hard, and within days he’d bail, leading to a quick-fired cycle.

Eventually, Li Shuo took up a job delivering food. Once he earned enough, he’d laze around his rental place streaming short videos and playing games, then when the money ran out, he’d go back to making deliveries.

But he still found life unsatisfying. He wanted more money, somehow.

One day, he set his sights on his tenants.

He planned to swing by his own apartment, pick out some “damage”, and extort a bit of cash. After all, it was his property, so whatever he said would go.

But as soon as Li Shuo opened his door, he chickened out.

Why? Because this tenant looked like a badass. He was well-built and half a head taller than Li Shuo, with a rugged stubble on his chin that made it hard to guess his age.

He was smoking a cigarette, and when he gave Li Shuo a quick once over, Li Shuo’s scheme to squeeze him died on the spot.

“Uh, big bro, this is my place, right? I just came back to grab something,” Li Shuo stammered, laughing stiffly.

Big Bro: “Oh.”

“Big bro, what’s your last name?”

“Lin.”

“Then I’ll call you Lin Ge.”

Li Shuo chuckled, rummaging in the cabinets like he was looking for something. All he found were a few old photos of his grandmother. He hemmed and hawed for a while, saying he missed his grandma and wanted to take a couple of pictures to look at.

To his surprise, Lin Ge wasn’t annoyed. He tapped his cigarette ashes and looked a bit less impatient. “Take them all if you want. Just don’t come bother me unnecessarily.”

With that, he leaned casually by the window, blowing smoke rings out onto the street.

If you wanted to see presence, this was it. Suddenly Li Shuo thought Lin Ge was very cool, obviously the kind of big bro who “knows a lot”.

That big bro must know how to make money.

Li Shuo had never been able to hold down a job for long, whether it was deliveries or other gigs, and he didn’t really have any friends. It was rare to see a potential connection, so why not try to build it?

So he asked, “Big bro, can I add you on WeChat? If anything breaks in the apartment, I can come by and fix it.”

There weren’t many things worth fixing in that place. Lin Ge eyed him, unamused. “No need. I’m just crashing here overnight.”

Li Shuo immediately tried his small-time-hustler’s stubbornness. “Then maybe your phone number? So I can reach you if something comes up.”

Worn down, Lin Ge muttered something like “Mm,” and Li Shuo hastily saved that string of digits, calling Lin Ge’s phone in person. Lin Ge gave the screen a casual glance but didn’t bother saving his number.

Li Shuo didn’t mind. It just made Lin Ge seem even cooler.

After that, Li Shuo sent Lin Ge weekly text messages to keep in touch. All of them vanished without reply, and Li Shuo began to suspect he’d been blocked.

But that Mid-Autumn Festival, he texted again: [Happy Mid-Autumn! I’m broke, no family, no girlfriend. Wanna grab a drink? It’s on me.]

Surprisingly, Lin Ge replied this time: [Sure.]

They met up at a barbecue stall. Nearby, a pedestrian street that had opened just a year ago was launching fireworks in celebration.

Lin Ge wasn’t much of a talker and didn’t like discussing himself. Their meal together was hardly more personal than sharing a table with strangers. Even so, it was rare for Li Shuo to spend Mid-Autumn with anyone, and he got a bit tipsy, lamenting his troubles.

“Life’s not fair,” he mumbled drunkenly. “The easier jobs all… all want at least a junior college diploma. That’s educational discrimination, you know… Hard for an ordinary guy to make a buck…”

Lin Ge responded half-heartedly, focusing on his mutton skewers.

“Big bro, you know any good gigs for quick cash? Hook me up?” Li Shuo waved his beer bottle, finally getting to the point.

“Heh heh, and if it’s a bit shady, that’s fine. I’m ready…”

Lin Ge lifted his head and frowned slightly. “Ready for what?”

“I’ve worked in a KTV. Some jobs there pay super high… But they either want good looks and social skills or people who can keep things in line. I’m neither.”

Li Shuo sighed. “Over there you can earn more than ten thousand a month. In the supermarket I work my butt off and don’t even make five thousand…”

“Man, you know money’s a great thing! With money, all kinds of girls flock to you, and I wouldn’t have to smoke this cheap stuff…”

Lin Ge: “…Money is indeed a great thing.”

Li Shuo sensed something odd about Lin Ge’s tone, but his booze-soaked brain couldn’t figure out exactly what.

He noticed something else: Lin Ge’s shirt pocket was a bit stuffed, and a corner of something, like a photo, peeked out.

Could it be a picture of some woman? Taking advantage of his drunkenness, Li Shuo reached out…

Lin Ge’s face changed slightly, his whole body tensing, but then he relaxed and reached out a hand. “Don’t mess with it. Give it back.”

Li Shuo looked at the photo and blinked in confusion.

It seemed new. The image showed a pedestrian street shining bright with lights, fireworks and a full moon frozen overhead.

At the center were seven or eight young men enjoying a night out, all with radiant smiles, clearly very close friends. There were no women, so not the pretty girl Li Shuo had imagined.

Li Shuo felt a bit disappointed. “What’s this?”

“My friends,” Lin Ge said casually.

Li Shuo: “Carrying your friends’ photo to come out drinking, Big Bro, aren’t you sentimental?”

Lin Ge gave him an exasperated glance and snatched back the photo. “…One of my buddies in the picture died. I’m bringing him out for the holiday.”

Li Shuo: “!” Wow, that was truly cool.

Li Shuo: “So how come you’re not hanging out with the rest of them?”

Lin Ge: “Mind your own business.”

Chastened, Li Shuo shut his mouth. A few minutes later, he began his usual routine: bemoaning his miserable life… From his rotten family relations to his meager bank balance.

But no matter how pitiful he made it sound, Lin Ge never hinted at giving him any kind of “opportunity”, illicit or otherwise.

In the end, Lin Ge only told him to quit texting so much. But he did say they could eat together on Mid-Autumn in the future.

It was the first time they’d ever eaten together. Li Shuo figured that was progress.

……

Li Shuo kept muddling through life. The next year, on Mid-Autumn, they met again for a small gathering.

Lin Ge had upgraded his look a bit. Li Shuo couldn’t understand why Lin Ge, clearly doing well, still had no one else to spend Mid-Autumn with.

Once again, Li Shuo drank and complained as usual. But then, acting mysterious, he said, “Big bro, do you know ‘Er Gui’?”

That was a name he’d heard somewhere, said to be someone in “the business.” Li Shuo figured if he mentioned it, Lin Ge might look at him differently.

Sure enough, Lin Ge’s brow creased. “Where did you hear that?”

“That’s not important,” Li Shuo said, gnawing on a crab leg. “They say working for Er Gui makes you big money, you know?”

“Do you even know what they do?” Lin Ge cut him off.

Li Shuo: “Heh, they’re just dealing that stuff in KTVs, right? I hear you can make money fast with Er Gui.”

Then he tried to gloss it over, “Come on, lots of people in entertainment mess with that. It’s legal in some foreign countries…”

Lin Ge’s facial muscles tightened. For a second, Li Shuo thought he was going to get hit.

But in the end, Lin Ge only glared at him. “Go read the law and figure out how much your life is worth.”

Li Shuo shut his mouth, his overheated brain rapidly cooling. He wanted money, but he was still more afraid of dying.

So he changed the subject. “Heh heh, Big Bro, you brought that photo again, huh…”

That night, Lin Ge ended up saying quite a bit.

He told Li Shuo that he should spend more energy figuring out what he was good at, that it wouldn’t work in the long run if he just tried everything he saw.

Li Shuo let it go in one ear and out the other. He didn’t care about “the long run”, only quick cash.

Even so, he obeyed their agreement: only contacting Lin Ge when necessary. Actually, Lin Ge even sent Li Shuo two texts himself, asking about the hot water heater in the apartment.

So did that mean they were friends? Probably, Li Shuo thought.

……

The third year, on Mid-Autumn, Lin Ge’s clothes were more upscale, while the barbecue stall they picked was more down-to-earth.

Li Shuo, on the other hand, looked extremely slovenly. His hair was a bit tangled, and his face was sallow from poor lifestyle habits. The two of them sitting together made a strange sight.

This time, before Li Shuo could complain, Lin Ge spoke first. “You’re pretty good at fixing things.”

As soon as Li Shuo got to talk about what he was good at, his energy rose. “I fixed toy cars for classmates in junior high, the kind you race. I got two yuan each time!”

He spoke excitedly, eyes bright.

“Try a repair shop,” Lin Ge suggested after a moment. “If you don’t like heavy work, avoid home appliance calls. Maybe try fixing computers or phones. I hear fixing gaming consoles can also be profitable.”

Then, slightly awkward, he added, “I’m no expert, but if you like it, it can’t hurt to try.”

Li Shuo perked up. “Hey, Big Bro, you know what, I love tinkering with that stuff!”

Lin Ge pointed at the fireworks off in the distance. “That electronics store near the pedestrian street is doing good business. I saw they’re hiring a few days back.”

His tone carried a hint of warmth rarely heard from him.

“I’ll check it out tomorrow!” Li Shuo slapped his thigh.

He was dangerously short on money at the moment, and that kind of work didn’t sound too exhausting, so it was perfect.

With a new goal in mind, Li Shuo’s usual complaints subsided, and they had a more normal conversation. Lin Ge still didn’t share much about himself. He only said he did some kind of business and that it was going alright.

“Big Bro, if you’re doing fine, why still crash at that crappy apartment of mine?” Li Shuo was puzzled.

“Anywhere to sleep is the same. Moving around is more trouble.”

Li Shuo didn’t get it. If he had money, he’d definitely rent a big fancy place. But come to think of it, Lin Ge must really consider him a friend now, because he’d even let Li Shuo watch him take out that photo.

Every time Lin Ge looked at the photo, his expression would grow nostalgic.

Li Shuo thought it must be a dear friend in that picture.

He hoped he and Lin Ge could one day be that close.

……

In the fourth year, on Mid-Autumn, Li Shuo dressed cleanly in a stylish hoodie, his hair partially dyed. Meanwhile, Lin Ge’s attire was surprisingly low-key, dark and drab.

As soon as they met, Li Shuo started chattering away.

He genuinely had talent for repairs, learning fast and doing quality work. The electronics store boss was happy to keep him on, and now Li Shuo was increasingly motivated. He’d never quit, not even if someone tried to force him.

He made around seven thousand a month, and his boss even paid for full insurance. He’d rented a small studio near the pedestrian street. It was quiet, clean, with a great view out the window.

That night, Li Shuo had almost no complaints, and he barely drank.

“Big Bro, the store is crazy busy. Someone even posted a video of me online, so now people mail in their gaming consoles for me to fix. The boss says he’ll give me a raise next year.”

Li Shuo was beaming. “And get this, the girl in the bubble tea shop next door smiles at me all the time. Big Bro, do you think she likes me?”

Lin Ge lit a cigarette, listening and smiling.

Li Shuo suddenly realized the guy had a certain presence when he smiled.

Sure enough, Lin Ge was really cool and definitely knew how to make money. Looking back, Li Shuo felt that forcing a connection back then had been a brilliant decision.

After they’d chatted in their usual routine, Lin Ge did something unexpected: he made a request.

Lin Ge: “Xiao Li, can you look after the photo for me? From now on, whenever we meet on Mid-Autumn, just bring it with you.”

Li Shuo: “Huh?”

It was just a photo so it didn’t take up much space. Why would he need someone else to look after it?

Lin Ge, however, explained very naturally that he’d been crazy busy and kept losing track of stuff, and he worried he might misplace it. Also, with Li Shuo in charge of the photo, he’d be forced to show up for Mid-Autumn gatherings, so he wouldn’t “forget his friend once he got rich.”

Li Shuo liked that second part and happily agreed.

Actually, Lin Ge seemed to have some kind of compulsion. Though he showed up every Mid-Autumn, he made it clear each year that Li Shuo must wait for him to text first about meeting up. If no text arrived by Mid-Autumn, that meant he was busy and Li Shuo shouldn’t bother him.

Businesspeople often had quirks, so Li Shuo accepted that.

“What if you never come?” Li Shuo asked naturally.

Lin Ge paused his drag on the cigarette, then smiled. “Then burn the photo.”

“…Huh?”

“It’s actually my friend’s photo. After he died, his family wanted to burn it for him, but I decided to keep it for myself.”

Lin Ge looked at the full moon. “In the end, returning dust to dust, soil to soil… that’s not so bad.”

Li Shuo drew a sharp breath. So it was something belonging to a deceased person. They say businesspeople are superstitious, yet Lin Ge wasn’t bothered by the bad luck?

But then again, if it belonged to a friend, maybe it would bless the living. Li Shuo wasn’t too sure.

Ultimately, Li Shuo took the photo, promising to bring it every Mid-Autumn from then on.

…After all, Lin Ge wasn’t only half a benefactor but a friend.

Year after year, these casual gatherings, helping each other out… If they weren’t bros, what were they?

……

The fifth year, Mid-Autumn Daytime.

Li Shuo was in a fantastic mood. He decided to swing by the “Hoodlum Building” to give Lin Ge a surprise.

He had a lot to tell him, more than they could cover over a single meal…

After working at the electronics store for two years, business was booming. The boss had promoted him to assistant manager, and now he could earn over ten thousand a month.

What’s more, he was dating the girl from the bubble tea shop.

Her name was Juanzi, and she wasn’t very pretty nor curvy. Definitely lightyears away from the beauties in short videos. Now, though, Li Shuo didn’t mind at all. After all, he was short himself and not handsome, so having an honest, steady relationship was great.

Plus, he thought Juanzi’s smile was adorable, better-looking than any influencer’s grin.

But if he wanted to start a family, he needed savings.

Li Shuo had calculated carefully. Quitting smoking saved a couple hundred every month. Cutting back on food and drink and renting a slightly cheaper place gave him a few hundred more. He could put aside over eight thousand a month, nearly a hundred thousand a year!

After three years, he’d have three hundred thousand, enough for a down payment on a place…

Then he could bring Juanzi home to meet his folks. Looking back, he’d been really out of line before. Now that he was doing well, it’d be a good time to mend fences with his family…

In short, he planned to spend Mid-Autumn night on a date with Juanzi, so he couldn’t meet Lin Ge in the evening.

Thus, Li Shuo wanted to shift their gathering to daytime, maybe pick up some dating tips from Lin Ge.

Before heading to the Hoodlum Building, he even bought some nice food and drink, not forgetting the photo.

After all, Lin Ge hadn’t texted him yet about meeting this year, so Li Shuo wasn’t sure he was free. No big deal if he wasn’t. Worst case, Li Shuo would make the trip for nothing. It was his own apartment anyway.

To be honest, he hadn’t been back to the Hoodlum Building in years, and he was a bit curious.

…But the moment Li Shuo reached his door, someone smashed him in the face.

He was instantly dazed, feeling two streams of hot liquid from his nose, and the food in his hands dropped to the ground with a crash.

Next, someone grabbed him and yanked him inside, slamming the door shut.

The floor was covered in blood, and in an instant his clothes had soaked it up, turning heavy and sticky.

…Why was there so much blood on the floor?

Half in a stupor, Li Shuo heard voices speaking above him.

“Who’s this?” asked a rough voice.

“The building manager said he’s some deadbeat who left home years ago, probably no problem,” another answered, stepping on Li Shuo’s back. “…He’s a nobody.”

No, he wasn’t a “nobody,” Li Shuo hazily thought.

He was a person, and he was living a decent life.

He was an assistant store manager, had a cute girlfriend, and made ten thousand a month.

“What now, Er Gui Ge?” asked the voice.

That hoarse voice gave a short laugh. “He showed up himself. What do you think? Kill him.”

Li Shuo couldn’t quite process it, but Er Gui sounded like he was talking about a piece of meat rather than a person.

“Wait,” Er Gui added, “that cop isn’t dead yet. Let him watch us kill this punk and see if he’s still so tough.”

They dragged Li Shuo to the living room. Through the tilted blur of his vision, he saw a man drenched in blood.

He was on the brink of death, blood covering his face. But Li Shuo recognized him: it was Lin Ge.

Lin Ge seemed to recognize him as well. For the first time in five years, Li Shuo saw fear in Lin Ge’s eyes.

A thick stench of blood filled his nostrils. Li Shuo gradually realized…

…Er Gui was a drug dealer.

…And “that cop” was Lin Ge, an undercover narc.

Lin Ge never used WeChat or saved phone numbers; he carried a photo but wouldn’t keep it where he lived.

He turned serious whenever Li Shuo mentioned Er Gui and the drug trade.

He never talked about his family or got in touch with friends. One of his friends had already died in an “accident”…

Li Shuo felt, for the first time in his life, that he was suddenly very smart, even smarter than when he’d tinkered with toy cars in junior high.

He realized what “accident” probably meant. That friend must also have been a narc, just like Lin Ge.

He suddenly understood the terror in Lin Ge’s eyes: half of it was for Li Shuo and half for that photo… for the still-living colleagues in it.

At that moment, Li Shuo wasn’t thinking grandly about justice or morality.

…He only thought that he’d brought the photo into hell, so he had to fix it.

…He couldn’t let his brother’s comrade go down because of him.

Somehow, he found the strength to stagger up and stumble toward the inner room.

This was his grandmother’s apartment, and he’d stayed here often as a kid. He knew how to wedge the door so it wouldn’t open easily.

The window had security bars, so Er Gui’s men weren’t in a hurry; they treated him like a caged animal. As they pounded on the door, Li Shuo dug out the photo.

It was soaked in blood, stained with a dark red patch.

Li Shuo stumbled to the windowsill, finding a familiar gap in the bricks. The old place was full of gaps, and this one was his secret stash. As a child, he’d hidden pocket money here to keep his parents from taking it.

He managed a slight smile and shoved the photo inside. The gap was deep, and the darkness swallowed it whole.

He was careful not to smear any blood near the gap.

The photo was safe, he thought; nobody would ever find it.

With a dull thud, someone kicked the door open.

A foot stomped him to the floor and dragged him back into the living room, the attacker growling curses that basically meant “Don’t bother yelling for help. This is the Hoodlum Building, nobody here cares.”

Li Shuo tuned him out, glancing sideways at the young goon hauling him.

That goon was under thirty, about his age. The way he spewed insults looked exactly like another version of himself.

Despite the agony, Li Shuo almost wanted to laugh. If he hadn’t met Lin Ge, maybe he’d be standing there, doing the killing.

Money really was a great thing, Li Shuo thought.

If you can command “ghosts” with money, you first have to make them into ghosts.

They dragged Li Shuo back to the living room.

Lin Ge was still breathing raggedly, his eyes filled with despair as he stared at Li Shuo, as if wanting to push him away from danger by sight alone.

Li Shuo licked the blood on his lips. Suddenly it hit him. Lin Ge probably wasn’t really named Lin. He might never learn the man’s real name.

Big Bro, it’s pointless, he thought.

“Big Bro, it’s alright,” he said.

…This wasn’t your fault. It’s just my own awful luck; don’t blame yourself.

…I don’t want to die. I’m not resigned to this. I hate it. But I know who I should hate.

Li Shuo rolled his eyes upward, fixing a ferocious stare on Er Gui as he watched the gruesome spectacle.

He no longer remembered exactly when he died or when Lin Ge died.

He only knew that Er Gui’s men didn’t finish them off quickly. Blood was everywhere, his eyes were veiled in red, and the pain twisted his memory beyond all recognition.

He only remembered the final glance he cast on the world…

Night fell darker and darker; the pain drifted further and further away. In the blood pooling around him, Li Shuo saw the reflection of his grandmother’s ceramic Bodhisattva.

After all these years, Lin Ge still hadn’t taken it.

In the cold blood, Li Shuo couldn’t close his eyes.

Li Shuo didn’t know that in the moment he breathed his last, Lin Ge struggled to move a finger. He stared in agony at the dying young man, eyes shot with blood.

He noticed Li Shuo’s clothing was slightly disarrayed, as though someone had searched him. He saw the change in Li Shuo’s expression, and guessed Li Shuo had deliberately run into the inner room to hide something.

Once, a friend of his had died protecting innocent people.

Now, another friend had died protecting innocent people.

That had been his job. He should have carried on his friend’s cause, keeping his colleagues and the public safe.

Maybe it was all beyond repair now, and he couldn’t do anything anymore, but…

[Those who should be protected are the innocent.]

Deep in the gap of the bricks, a swirl of yin energy began to gather. It spun faster and faster, forming an invisible storm. The temperature plummeted. Within that darkness, any lurking evil spirit was wiped out on the spot.

On the bloodstained photo, one evil spirit after another appeared, while the faces of the people gradually vanished, leaving only the backs of their heads.

An object with an obsession, collecting karma, becomes an “E”.

In the vortex entangling countless threads of karma, the photo bore the same resolve. Once again it became a keepsake, devouring that obsession and mechanically converting it into three taboos:

Evil spirits carry a blood debt and aren’t allowed to leave.

At three quarters before noon, one life must be paid.

…Remember, there are prying eyes; no showing your face.

……

Fang Xiu opened his eyes to find himself wrapped tightly in Bai Shuangying’s arms. The remnants of the photo were still burning, drifting lightly through the air.

Flames licked at the laughing faces, turning them to ash.

…He felt a weight in his hand. It was the demon-revealing mirror.

Fang Xiu quickly turned his head. They were in a thirty-square-meter run-down apartment, and everyone was there.

Li Shuo was there, and so was Lao Jin, who had just taken his last breath. Li Shuo’s face was expressionless, his eyes sweeping over that dusty Bodhisattva statue.

Beside him, Lin Ge’s apparition had vanished.

The last few wisps of ash fell at his feet, like a period marking the end.

Something felt off, Fang Xiu thought. The E had been completely destroyed, but the paper figure hadn’t shown up, and the “immunity to evil” effect hadn’t kicked in.

Li Shuo lowered his head to look at the bit of ash, then laughed. “So, now you know what happened.”

Fang Xiu, Bai Shuangying: “Yes.”

Fang Xiu: “?”

Bai Shuangying had pressed so close because he wanted a firsthand look at the photo’s cause-and-effect?

Either way, Fang Xiu didn’t dwell on it for now. He kept his attention on Li Shuo. “So can you tell us your obsession now?”

Li Shuo lowered his gaze and took out an unlit cigarette. Without the E’s power, his figure was far less solid than before.

“I’m just not reconciled,” he said. “I died before I’d really lived. I wanted to see them get what they deserved.”

“But after sacrificing so many people during the festival, I stopped caring that much. You kill enough people, and it just feels the same…”

Silence fell over the room.

Guan He and the others didn’t know the story behind the E, but they could sense the sorrow on Li Shuo’s face.

“…Later I just thought, I hid that photo so carefully, and nobody knew Big Bro had left one. I hoped someone would find it someday and bring it to his family.”

He gave a self-mocking laugh.

“That was my last little wish, but telling you is pointless. You can’t leave this place without destroying the photo, so it’s a dead end.”

Fang Xiu was quiet for a while. “Do you know why I brought up ‘Er Gui’ to you?”

“Why?”

“Because I knew you had a grudge against him. After your deaths, the case was huge news, reported everywhere, handled with extra severity. Er Gui’s gang was executed by firing squad, and all their upstream and downstream partners were arrested.”

“It’s just a pity there wasn’t enough evidence to deal with Boss Jin. He lay low abroad for two years back then.”

Hearing that, Cheng Songyun exclaimed, “I remember that news story.”

Li Shuo watched Fang Xiu intently. “And then?”

Fang Xiu: “After that, Lin Ge’s photo was publicly commemorated in an official report… Actually, you didn’t have to wait. He had no ‘family’ who could take that photo.”

Otherwise, the official media wouldn’t have displayed it openly.

“…Also, his last name really was Lin.”

Li Shuo was silent a long time. At last, he chuckled. “Makes sense. No wonder he only ever brought that group photo on Mid-Autumn.”

Then he grabbed the bloody mess that was Lao Jin and dragged him to the dried bloodstain in the center of the floor.

With a snap of his fingers, the new corpse of mangled flesh burst into flames.

Though Lao Jin’s body was covered in blood, the fire burned slowly, refusing to die out.

Finally, Li Shuo took the unlit cigarette, touching it to the flame. Blue smoke rose in curling wisps, just like old times.

“Lin Ge, share one with me.”

He stood the cigarette upright, placing it in the incense burner before the ceramic Bodhisattva.

Guan He felt sad watching. In a soft voice, he said, “I remember that article now. Everyone called Lin Ge a saint…”

Li Shuo didn’t look back. “Bullshit. If he were that heartless, he wouldn’t have kept the photo or worried about my life. If he’d done it that way, then maybe you could call him unfeeling and transcendent.”

“Sometimes I think he was exhausted, holed up on his own, chain-smoking… There aren’t that many saints in the world. Lin Ge was just an ordinary guy.”

Fang Xiu: “But really cool.”

Li Shuo burst out laughing. “Yeah, Lin Ge was really cool.”

He laughed for a long time, long enough for Lao Jin’s last sounds to vanish and that cigarette to burn down to its butt.

“So I’ve been dead four or five years, huh.”

“Juanzi probably got married to someone else, and the store must have a new assistant manager by now. It’s good that I never patched things up with my family. This way, they won’t be too upset about my death… when I think of it that way, I guess there’s nothing left tying me here.”

Li Shuo glanced at the nearly finished cigarette, then turned to Fang Xiu.

“In the end, you still got me to move on.”

Leaning back against Bai Shuangying, Fang Xiu waved a hand at Li Shuo as though seeing off a friend in a routine farewell.

He looked oddly calm, and for an instant Li Shuo thought he saw a hint of envy in Fang Xiu’s eyes.

What a strange person.

Li Shuo shook his head, smiling, then turned back to the incense burner.

The ember on the cigarette in the incense burner dimmed, about to go out.

Li Shuo stood at the place where he had died, folding his hands as he remembered his grandma lighting incense. He slowly closed his eyes.

“Homage to the greatly compassionate and merciful Guanyin Bodhisattva…”

Yin energy dissolved, caught in a swirl of wind. The young man’s figure vanished like mist.

All that remained on the dark bloodstain was Lao Jin’s scorched corpse.

With Lao Jin’s death, the demon-revealing mirror trembled and released Huang Mao and Jia Xu, both looking dazed. The space shifted abruptly, and they started yelling in confusion.

Fang Xiu didn’t bother explaining. He walked toward the incense burner where the smoke was still dispersing and took out Lao Jin’s golden Bodhisattva statue.

With a quiet clink, he dropped it onto the empty offering plate, then bowed to the ceramic figure.

“Hey bud, since you’re not taking living souls, I shouldn’t waste this,” Fang Xiu muttered. “I’m feeding Lao Jin to my ghost. I hope that’s okay.”

Then he turned, about to call Bai Shuangying, only to see Bai Shuangying frown sharply and hide himself on the spot.

Fang Xiu: “……?”

What, was he so picky now that he wouldn’t even eat?

He didn’t have time to speak before a sudden gust blew behind him, sending a chill up his neck. Instantly, Fang Xiu sensed something was off.

“So you’re the one who broke the ‘Mid-Autumn E’?” came a cold, rasping female voice.

It came from behind him. The speaker was clearly a woman, yet her stature seemed taller than his. A bloodstained wedding robe fluttered into Fang Xiu’s peripheral vision.

Goosebumps prickled all over him; he didn’t turn around immediately.

This time the Underworld hadn’t sent the paper figure; the aura of this newcomer was worlds apart.

“Yes, I broke it. So what?” Fang Xiu steadied his breathing.

The woman’s voice went quiet for a few seconds. “Good.”

“Sorry about this. Someone on our side cheated. As their superior, I’m here personally to apologize.”

She spoke decisively. “As for your compensation, the Underworld side…”

Fang Xiu: “?” That woke him right up.

He spun around like a spinning top, voice brimming with vigor. “Hold on. Since when does only the guilty party get to call the shots on compensation?”

“Come on, let’s have a good talk—!”

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The author has something to say:

Actually, it was enough content for two chapters, but since there wasn’t a good place to split, I went ahead and wrote it all at once… Praise me!!! 

Also, the edits I’ve made these past couple of days are just slight adjustments to some dialogue wording to make it easier to understand, without touching the plot _(:з」∠)_ 

By this calculation, the pedestrian street has been standing for exactly nine years, and Li Shuo has participated in five rituals (including the Mid-Autumn Festival when he died). Five rituals in total, catching up to Old Man Fu ten years of dedicated training, truly a top student. 

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By the way, let me just say this outright: if someone in our country is pushing for marijuana legalization, they’re either ignorant or malicious, or both. If there’s someone like that around you, it’s best to keep your distance.

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