Chapter Seven: The Old Ghost

Mo Li said nothing, the grey, gaseous ghost said nothing, and Liu Jun was even quieter. Inside, he was thinking, "Come on, don't play games. You want me to be the first to speak to a ghost? I can't guarantee I won't wet my pants, okay?"

"Are you all right? Do you need to go to the back and have a moment to yourself?" Mo Li asked, looking at Liu Jun with concern.

"I'm fine, no need. I'll stay here. Since I’ve come here, I’ll have to face these things sooner or later," Liu Jun said, feigning composure. It wasn't that he didn't want a moment to himself; the problem was that at least Mo Li was here. If he went to the back alone—well, it was pitch black, and he had just seen a ghost. He was afraid he might scare himself into a breakdown.

"Suit yourself, then," Mo Li said with continued concern.

At this moment, the grey gas in front of the counter slowly took the form of an old man. He was dressed in a burial shroud, his face deathly pale, his eye sockets deeply sunken. Most terrifying of all, he had no skin. With such a horrifying appearance, this one person—or rather, one ghost—could easily carry an entire horror movie. It was just way too creepy.

"Old man, what brings you here? How did you die? And why haven't you reported to the underworld? You know that if you wait much longer, you will lose your chance at reincarnation," Mo Li said sternly.

At this point, the incense on the counter must have taken effect. It was likely meant to soothe the spirits—not for people, but for ghosts. After all, asking a ghost how they died was like kicking them while they were down. They were already dead, and now they had to recount their demise. If you asked a vengeful red-clad spirit how it died, you would likely find out exactly how you were going to die soon enough. This was why you shouldn't ask questions about death when playing with spirit boards, planchettes, or chopsticks; those vessels often attracted malevolent, grudge-filled ghosts. The chance of summoning a minor spirit was low, as minor spirits lacked the power to manipulate those objects, and some were even powerful red-clad entities. It was a classic case of playing with fire.

"Miss, I died four days ago, but I was placed in a coffin and buried five days ago. It’s not that I refused to report to the underworld; it’s just that I have unfinished business. I implore you to help me. I had such a hard time finding this place, please, help me?" the ghost's voice echoed.

He didn't appear to move his mouth, yet his voice was audible. Perhaps, as some documents suggested, ghosts were simply magnetic fields, and they didn't need to use your ears to make you hear their words.

Wait, oh my god, that’s terrifying. Using his sharp mind, Liu Jun did a rough calculation. Buried five days ago, died four days ago—was this old man buried alive? Various scenarios flashed through his mind: An elderly man buried alive by children who didn't want to support him? A wealthy man buried alive due to a family inheritance dispute? A case of love turned to hatred, where an old woman, fearing loneliness in the afterlife, buried her husband alive to keep her company? Or perhaps he was attacked by thugs, left for dead, and then buried in a coffin by the perpetrators?

"My god, has society become this terrifying? Mom, I'm scared," Liu Jun thought, taking a step back involuntarily.

"You were buried alive? But I see no sign of lingering resentment on you. We can help you, but you must explain things clearly," Mo Li said, glancing at Liu Jun with surprise before turning back to the ghost.

"I was gathering herbs by a cliff when I accidentally fell. The impact knocked the breath out of me. When my family found me, they thought I was dead, so they took me home, held a funeral, and buried me. I don't blame them; my children and their spouses are all very filial. It was I who was always restless, going out to pick herbs. I had even told them before I died not to keep my body at home, to just bury me—that once a person is dead, they shouldn't hinder the living. Who knew that shortly after I was buried, I caught my breath again and ended up in this state, neither dead nor alive," the old man said with a bitter smile. Don't ask me how I could tell a ghost was smiling bitterly—that’s just me guessing, okay?

It was clear the old man had been a carefree soul in life, someone who didn't fuss over formalities, or he wouldn't have told his children to bury him quickly. He certainly hadn't expected to end up in this situation.

"So you were suffocated later? How did you end up looking like this?" Liu Jun asked. He couldn't help his curiosity; the old man had no skin, looking as if he’d been cruelly flayed.

"Sigh, I didn't expect it either. There was a large snake shedding its skin under my coffin. It took advantage of my immobilized state to steal my skin, and then it went to my home to terrorize my family. Now, the whole village is gossiping that my children are unfilial and that I’ve become a ghost to take revenge on them. I know the rules; I won't make contact with them. I only ask that you help me catch that snake to restore my children's reputation and stop it from harming my family. Once that's done, I will immediately report to the underworld. I promise not to linger in the world of the living," the old man pleaded.

"Fine, we will help you, but remember what you said. We are not saints. If you break your word and continue to linger in the living world, I will beat you until your soul dissipates. I’ll drive, and you can point the way from the car. Heiyu, come down, we have work to do. Liu Jun, you’re coming too," Mo Li said to the ghost before calling upstairs.

"Oh, oh, okay," Liu Jun replied, still in a daze. What was happening? How was this so sudden? Wasn't he just watching the shop? Wasn't he just on the night shift? Why was he suddenly doing fieldwork? Was there a subsidy for fieldwork? It felt pretty dangerous. Did the old man have life insurance? He wondered if medical expenses were covered if he got beaten up by a ghost or a demon. Wait, Heiyu? Who or what was that?

Just as he was thinking this, a mysterious object rushed down from upstairs. Don't ask why it was mysterious—it was just too fast. In that dim light, it was too much to ask Liu Jun’s tired eyes to see clearly. When the object stopped at the counter, he realized it was a large black dog. It was pure black, with no other colors—though maybe its teeth and eyes had a bit of variation. The dog looked like one you shouldn't mess with, and it was baring its teeth at him.

"Kid, what are you staring at?" the dog asked.

"What if I am staring at you?" Liu Jun’s quick temper flared, and he retorted immediately.

"Holy crap! Mo Li, help! There’s a monster! This dog can talk!" Liu Jun exclaimed in terror. He jumped three feet high, ignoring his still-healing leg, and used the speed he once used to rush for food in the school canteen to hide behind Mo Li.

"What are you making such a fuss about? Humans can talk, so why is it strange for a dog to talk? Besides, you’ve already seen a ghost; what else can you not accept? Coward," the dog said dismissively.

"Alright, alright, stop bickering. Heiyu, come with me to get the car. Liu Jun, lock the shop door and wait for me on the road outside," Mo Li said, grabbing a bag and walking toward the door.

"Oh, okay," Liu Jun replied. He thought to himself that since things had reached this point, he might as well go along. After all, he wouldn't feel comfortable leaving Mo Li alone with just a questionable dog. Heaven bestows great responsibility upon a person; it must first exhaust their mind and weary their limbs. One couldn't grow without going through hardships. Yeah, he definitely wasn't admitting that he was scared to be left in the shop alone. He was never a coward.