Exorcism

I was a Little Blind One, and I met an Old Swindler.

To keep ourselves fed, the two of us pretended to be Daoist priests, making a living by conning our way into wealthy households.

That day, the General’s Mansion put up a notice seeking someone with profound magical power to enter the estate and catch a ghost.

The two of us gritted our teeth and immediately decided to go big or go home!

Who would have thought that, inside the General’s Mansion, more people died with each passing day?

Oh my god. There really was a ghost.

The Old Swindler trembled as he shielded me behind him.

The malicious ghost’s shriek pierced our eardrums.

Silently, I formed a hand seal. “Gather the baleful qi of heaven and earth, thunder descend!!”

Old Swindler: “??? Wait, you actually know how?!”

The parents of a missing boy came to me for help. They wanted me to find their son.

But every sign pointed to the boy already being dead-while his heart was still beating.

I run a science-debunking channel.

I’m also a Taoist priest.

Every day, I livestream ways to expose feudal superstition for what it is.

One day, a young woman asked me to help sever a toxic romantic entanglement.

The next day, her boyfriend was dead.

Five years into my career, people called me pale, skinny, young-looking, and a fake-innocent schemer.

Meanwhile, my stunt double used me as a stepping stone to climb her way up, becoming wildly popular with an occult persona.

On shows, she told fortunes for celebrities, saying she had learned it from her boyfriend.

That boyfriend she kept talking about was the eldest son of a famous Occult Family.

But when she and I ended up on the same paranormal variety show, her talismans suddenly stopped working.

As for me, right in front of an audience of tens of millions, I took down a whole pack of ghosts with my bare hands.

“You want to be my nephew’s wife? Did you get my permission first?”

My rich, pretty roommate had a boyfriend who was five-foot-three, weighed 187 pounds, and always had a greasy shine on his face.

She guarded against me at every turn, terrified I had designs on him.

I told her her boyfriend was a pig, and she snapped that I was just calling the grapes sour because I couldn’t have them.

But what she didn’t know was that her boyfriend really was a pig.

My roommate was a professional bride.

She said she’d landed a big job recently, and the client was incredibly generous.

When I saw the fee wrapped in red paper, I tried to talk her out of taking it.

But on the day of the event, my roommate still snuck off.

And she never came back.

What she didn’t know was that every one of the event’s organizers…

wasn’t human.

My cousin is dead.

His hands were tied to a ceiling beam, and he was wearing a red dress over a swimsuit-a swimsuit that was still dripping wet.

The police report claimed it was a suicide.

But I know he didn’t kill himself. And I know who’s next.

It’s me. There is no escape.

Tomato Novel

Author: Tomato Novel Author

Synopsis: [Metaphysics + Ghost Hunting + Sweet Romance + CP]

The eldest daughter brought back to the Xia Family from the countryside is a little mystic, always acting mysterious and swindling people. Not only does she curse her scummy father to ruin, but she also manages to coax all kinds of big shots into donating their fortunes and begging for her help. In the end, she even tricks her way to the most distinguished Shen Ninth Master in the entire Capital City.

Everyone: “That fraud is doomed sooner or later!”

Yet, just a few days later, paparazzi exposed photos of Shen Ninth Master leading the little mystic into the Civil Affairs Bureau…

The media reported that Hong Kong’s Richest Man had proposed to me. His eight girlfriends couldn’t sit still after hearing the news and sent people to kidnap me.

I said helplessly, “Have any of you ever seen someone propose by kneeling on both knees?”

Hong Kong’s Richest Man personally stepped forward to debunk the rumors.

“You can insult me, but you cannot humiliate Master Qiao like this.”

My virginity was sold by my family to a seventy-year-old tycoon for the steep price of one million yuan.

The price was fair, all things considered. After all, I wasn’t just selling my virtue; I was selling my life.

On our wedding night, the old man squeezed my throat and asked, “Do you have any final wishes?”

To stay alive, I told him three stories.

And then, I made a prophecy.

“You will die within my third story.”