Wang Ziheng looked at Ximen Lian and couldn't help it—he snorted with laughter again. Though this time, mindful of Director Qiu standing nearby, he quickly stifled it with a hand over his mouth. Still chuckling, he leaned in and repeated for Ximen what he had just heard.
Turns out, when Ximen was pocketing that "hardship envelope" yesterday morning, the old lady's soul had been right there beside him. She had watched with her own ghostly eyes as Lord Ximen shamelessly slid the envelope full of cash into his coat. If it weren't for the fact that she was a disembodied spirit with no physical form, she might've snatched it back on the spot.
This old lady had been frugal to the bone her entire life—stingy to the point of madness. Her son may have become a wealthy and powerful figure, but she still lived by the unshakable motto: save a bit, then save a bit more. Her thriftiness had reached pathological levels. When her now-rich son once hired a few housemaids to take care of her, she blew up the moment she learned they would be paid even a few hundred yuan. That very night, she beat and cursed them right out of the house.
Even the produce vendors at the local market would sigh in unison at the mention of her name:
"No one's ever made a cent off that old bat."
As for the gold teeth in her mouth—they weren't even hers. They came from her late husband. She had originally planned to sell them, but after getting them appraised, she found out they were nothing more than cheap, gold-plated caps with poor purity—not worth much at all. In the end, she decided to keep them and had them installed in her own mouth, even though they didn't fit her gums properly and caused pain every time she ate. Still, she couldn't bring herself to pay for a proper set. The eight front teeth in her mouth had only been installed after her son lied to her, saying he had connections and got them for free.
So when Ximen Lian pried out those teeth during makeup prep, the old lady had nearly died of rage all over again. Then, to make matters worse, she watched as her eldest son handed Ximen a fat envelope of cash. She had never let anyone take advantage of her in life—only to suffer such a massive loss after death?
Unless she got both her teeth and that envelope back, she had no interest in reincarnating. Period.
"Now you see why she's not one to mess with?" Wang Ziheng said with a grin, throwing Ximen a look of mock sympathy.
Before Ximen could respond, Director Qiu suddenly turned around and let out a heavy sigh. He looked Ximen dead in the eye and said, "Tough luck, kid. Hand over the cash her son gave you."
"What the he—" Ximen's complaint hadn't even made it out before the smoky figure of the old lady twisted violently. Her face contorted with rage, hands clawing at the air like she was about to lunge out of the smoke itself. The mist swirling around her grave began to boil and surge, as if she were ready to burst free at any moment.
Something in the smoke—some unseen force—was clearly holding her back. But if that thin restraint failed, there was no doubt she'd be face-to-face with Ximen in the next breath.
Even like this, Ximen was terrified. He stumbled back several steps. Only when he saw that Director Qiu and Wang Ziheng remained calm and unmoving did he muster up some courage again. "It really was your son who gave it to me," he muttered, half-defensive. "Don't believe me? Fine—go visit him in his dreams and ask for yourself."
The smoky specter let out another bout of furious, soundless screaming.
Director Qiu shot Ximen a strange look and said flatly, "If I were you, I'd return that money right now." He gestured toward the incense stick planted on the headstone—its end now nearly burnt out. "Don't say I didn't warn you. Once the incense goes out, I won't be able to hold her back anymore. After that, you two can have your little 'chat' in private."
That sent a chill straight down Ximen's spine. So there was only one option left.
He was still wearing the same clothes from the day before, and the envelope was in his pocket. Gritting his teeth, Ximen reluctantly pulled it out and handed it over to Director Qiu. Without saying a word, Qiu walked up and pinned the envelope to the grave with a stone.
The moment the old lady's ghost laid eyes on that envelope, the smoke around her stilled—and so did she.
They thought the whole matter was finally over—but just as Qiu Bulao, Wang Ziheng, and Ximen Lian were about to leave, the old lady's ghost suddenly flared up again. Qiu Bulao turned back and glanced at her, then looked at Ximen with a face full of conflict. "She says… it's a hundred short."
"Impossible!" Ximen shouted, then snapped, "I didn't touch that envelope after it was handed to me! She's trying to scam—" He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly remembering something: when he fled the funeral home in a panic yesterday morning, he had pulled a hundred yuan from the envelope to pay the cab fare.
Problem was, after blowing all his borrowed cash on that truckload of salt, he barely had any change left on him now. He looked at Qiu and Wang, voice sheepish: "Uh… either of you got a hundred? I'll pay you back."
After explaining himself, Ximen poured himself another glass of baijiu and downed it in one gulp.
Sun Fatty blinked at him and said, "That's it? That's how it ended?"Ximen stuffed a piece of lamb into his mouth, pressing down the rising alcohol, and said, "Well, the old lady was taken care of. But I was left with a bigger problem. The pill Director Qiu gave me only suppressed my Heavenly Eye for a few days. After that? The voices would come back, and the ghosts too. You know what kind of place I worked at—hell, even broad daylight in the funeral home was full of shadowy figures floating around. Imagine trying to do makeup on a corpse while its spirit stands right there, gesturing that I made it look ugly. How do you think that felt? In the end, I quit."
He paused, looked at Sun Fatty with a strange expression."Don't know if it was fate or someone pulled strings, but that same morning I quit, Director Qiu gave me a call around noon. Said there was a job that suited me. Civil servant gig. Didn't even hesitate—I came straight to the capital. Joined the Bureau of Paranormal Investigation and have been under Director Qiu's wing ever since."
When Ximen finished, Sun Fatty grinned. "Didn't think Old Qiu had it in him to lie to people. I mean, seriously, must've been tough for you. Working under someone that uptight every day…"
Before he could finish, Xiong Wanyi—sitting across the table—suddenly slammed down his wine cup."Sun Fatty, what the hell did you just say—ugh…"Halfway through his sentence, the booze hit him full force. He tried to stop himself but was too late—everything he ate that night came back up all over the table.
Lao Mo and Ximen, seated on either side of him, didn't manage to dodge in time. Both of them jumped up, pinching their noses and cursing. Ximen wiped his sleeve, shouting,"Xiong bastard, you did that on purpose, didn't you?"Xiong Wanyi replied the only way he could:"Bleaargh…"
Dinner was officially over. Ximen muttered a few more curses at Xiong before going to settle the bill. A few minutes later, he staggered back in, one hand holding the tab, the other his wallet. He sidled up to Lao Mo and whispered, "Hey, uh… place doesn't take cards. Got a hundred I can borrow real quick?"
While Ximen wobbled back out to pay, I glanced at my watch. It was already 11:30 p.m. Even if Xiong hadn't ruined dinner, we were about ready to wrap things up anyway. None of us were in any shape to drive back to the city. Looked like we'd be crashing nearby.
As the restaurant staff came over to clean up the mess, I asked the owner if there was anywhere close we could stay for the night.
"Just head straight down the road for about twenty minutes," he said, then paused. His expression grew oddly hesitant. After a moment, he added, "But… this late at night, maybe don't go. I can push a few tables together, bring out some bedding. Crash here for the night. Breakfast's on the house."
Sun Fatty laughed, "What, trying to squeeze out every last yuan by charging us to sleep on tables?"But the owner quickly waved his hands. "No, no, not at all. I mean it—tonight's lodging and breakfast, free of charge. No strings attached."
We all exchanged looks. Something felt off.Sun Fatty chuckled again, "Thanks for the offer, boss, but I need a real bed for this chubby body. We'll just head to the guesthouse. Be a pal and keep an eye on our cars, yeah?"
Seeing we were determined to leave, the owner finally bit the bullet and spoke the truth:"It's not that I want to keep you… it's just, the road to that guesthouse passes a graveyard. During the day, no problem. But now—it's almost midnight. If something happens, you'll regret it."
"Uh?"Everyone except the already-slumped Xiong Wanyi immediately picked up on the implication. We exchanged glances again before Lao Mo asked,"Wait, are you saying there are ghosts in that graveyard? I mean, come on—we're still inside the capital's limits. If something like that were going on, wouldn't someone have handled it by now?"
The owner replied,"You don't know the whole story. That graveyard's been around a long time—lots of old tombs and unclaimed graves. It used to be perfectly quiet. No one ever said anything about hauntings. Then last year around National Day, the district announced they'd be developing the land. Notices went up about moving the graves.
"That's when it started."One family showed up at dawn to relocate their ancestral tomb. According to them, they saw corpses climbing out of the graves. One person dropped dead from fright right there. They called the cops. Officers came to investigate, but found nothing. They even dug up a few of the unclaimed graves the family pointed out—skeletons were still lying peacefully inside.
"If it weren't for how many witnesses there were, it would've been written off as a prank call."
"Later the sub-bureau came to help with the investigation, but they couldn't find anything either. Ever since then, that graveyard's been… active. Just two nights ago, a driver passing by claimed a corpse tried to flag him down. Nearly swerved into a ditch.
"So I'm begging you—please, just stay here tonight. Whatever's going on out there, it's not worth the risk."
The boss finished cleaning the table while we looked around at one another again. Finally, I said:"We'll still head to the guesthouse. Boss, we're all atheists here. We fear lots of things—but ghosts aren't one of them."
The five of us wobbled out the restaurant door, the owner still calling after us to reconsider. When he saw we were serious, he gave up and headed back inside.
The cold wind sobered us up almost immediately. Except for Xiong Wanyi—he staggered to the side and puked again before we continued. The rest of us followed the directions the boss gave, still chatting casually as we walked.
Sun Fatty went on praising the roasted lamb and dishes from dinner, his mouth still watering. I eventually got tired of listening and turned to Lao Mo and Ximen, asking,"There's ghost trouble right outside the capital—and we're not doing anything about it?"
Lao Mo chuckled and replied,"Lazi, you're still new. You don't quite understand how things work yet. If the Bureau had to deal with every report the moment it came in, we'd need a hundred more branches just to keep up."