Chapter 86

Chapter 86

The meeting room was thick with the smell of yellow paper. The tabletop and floor were both taken up by materials for the spirit-money packets that would be burned for the Ghost Festival, the Zhongyuan Festival.

Burning spirit-money packets for the Ghost Festival was a local custom in Yunlan City.

You wrapped a stack of yellow paper in a white paper cover, sealed it shut with paste, then wrote Zhongyuan offering packet on it, followed by the names of your ancestors.

For male ancestors, you wrote: To our late honored father, the venerable Mr. So-and-so. For female ancestors, you wrote: To our late honored mother, the venerable Madam So-and-so.

Then you added the names of the filial sons and worthy descendants, and wrote the character for “sealed” across the flap.

According to folk belief, these spirit-money packets were offerings from dutiful descendants, money for their ancestors to spend down below.

As times changed, plenty of people stopped doing it this way because it was too much trouble.

But in places like the Old City and the Ancient Town, where old and new overlapped, making spirit-money packets was something every household did for the Ghost Festival.

Almost every child who grew up here had experienced being dragged over to seal packets and write on them.

The moment Qin Ying saw them, her wrist began to ache in sympathy.

Seeing her standing in the doorway without coming in, Yin Minmin, who was using what looked like a popsicle stick to scoop paste, spared her a glance. “It’s a mess in here. Sister Ying, why don’t you sit in my office? Or go watch a movie at Wen Hao’s place.”

Beside her was Old Dao, holding a brush and writing so fast his hand practically left afterimages.

Qin Ying found a stool she could sit on amid the spirit-money packets scattered all over the floor.

Old Dao asked, “What are you doing here? You should be resting at home.”

When he looked up to speak, the writing in his hand never paused. On closer inspection, his handwriting was actually quite good.

A true special skill.

Qin Ying casually picked up one of the spirit-money packets from the table and asked, “Is this some assignment from above?”

The Third Cultural Heritage Preservation Institute did, after all, have “mysterious culture preservation and research” in its official name.

Qin Ying had assumed this was some higher-level task related to local cultural preservation or public outreach.

Unexpectedly, Yin Minmin, sealing packets like a woman on an assembly line, answered bluntly, “Nope. We took a job to earn some funding.”

Qin Ying’s hand paused, and she silently turned to look at her.

Earn funding? Was this a joke?

Her face showed little expression, and Yin Minmin failed to read the complicated look in her eyes. Calmly, she said, “Hardly anything ever happens here, so the funding approved from above is tiny.”

Qin Ying asked how much they charged for sealing and writing the packets on someone else’s behalf, then fell silent for a moment.

Pitifully cheap.

Just then, two sets of footsteps sounded outside.

Before the people even entered, Qin Ying caught a whiff of an odor first-the sour, musty smell of clothes that had been soaked by rain and then left to dry while still bundled up.

She turned her head and, sure enough, saw Zong Li and Zhang Lang come in one after the other, each wearing an eye-catchingly conspicuous Black Trench Coat.

Zhang Lang had his head hanging down, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes.

Before they could speak, Qin Ying took a small paper packet from the pocket of her casual clothes and handed it over.

Inside was powder from the Ghost-Shadow Vine.

“I found it in the backyard.”

Zong Li frowned as he unfolded it, then froze.

There was writing on the paper wrapped around the powder.

Zong Li glanced at Qin Ying, folded the packet back up, and held it in his palm. “Got it.”

After passing the message along, Qin Ying greeted Old Miao and the others, then left.

Seeing Yin Minmin and the others sealing spirit-money packets had finally reminded her that the Zhongyuan Festival was almost here, so she took a detour to the street in front of the Cultural Center.

As expected of a gathering place for every kind of oddity under the sun, the place was extremely lively with the Ghost Festival approaching.

The most eye-catching thing was an especially conspicuous paper offering shop.

In an age where everything changed by the day, even folk customs had come up with new tricks.

The shop had a full range of paper offerings. Qin Ying suspected Old Miao had gotten his stock from here.

Qin Ying wasn’t short on this bit of money, and she spent the entire morning shopping here and there.

Useful or not, whatever other people’s ancestors had, she was going to arrange for her own elders too.
She had bought so much that when the sellers heard she lived inside the ancient city, they enthusiastically offered to deliver everything right to her door.

And so, for the entire afternoon, strangers kept coming in and out of Qin Ying’s home.

Qin Ying had bought bottled water in advance and handed a bottle to every delivery worker who came by.

Around four in the afternoon, the two refrigerators she had ordered arrived.

The streets of the ancient city were narrow, and the small truck had a hard time getting through. The delivery driver started grumbling. “Miss, why did you order two double-door refrigerators all at once?”

Qin Ying tilted her head and listened closely to his voice, but did not answer.

Besides the driver, there were two movers, both wearing baseball caps printed with the store’s logo.

They were probably the quiet type. They simply lowered their heads and got to work.

After unloading the two heavy refrigerators, they carried them toward Qin Ying’s house.

The mover in the back suddenly shuddered violently as he passed through the front door.

With that one movement, the refrigerator in their hands immediately wobbled.

The mover in front hurriedly looked back.

But it was already too late.

The heavy double-door refrigerator slipped from their grip and smashed hard onto the ground.

To prevent bumps and protect the machine inside, wooden strips had been nailed around the outer packaging.

With a loud bang, a tremendous crack split through the wood.

“What happened?” the driver asked, hurrying over at the sight.

The mover in front quickly distanced himself from the blame. “It had nothing to do with me! It was Lao Yu.”

Then he looked at Qin Ying, who was standing nearby, and said anxiously, “Miss, you saw it from there! It had nothing to do with me!”

Afraid he would have to pay compensation, he kept defending himself.

Compared to him, the mover called Lao Yu stood there in silence with his head lowered.

The brim of his baseball cap hid his entire face.

In the blazing summer heat, his whole body trembled as though he had seen something terrifying.

Perhaps because of that, the driver stepped forward to smooth things over. “It’s fine. Let’s see if it’s broken first. No big deal.”

As he spoke, he reached out and patted Lao Yu on the shoulder.

That pat was all it took. Lao Yu, who had been standing ramrod straight a moment ago, let out a long, muffled groan.

It sounded like someone who had been constipated for ages, groaning in agony on the toilet.

Hearing that sound, the driver thought something had gone wrong and reached out to lift the brim of Lao Yu’s cap.

Just then, a hand reached out from behind and yanked him away.

The instant Qin Ying pulled the driver aside, Lao Yu began trembling violently all over.

He collapsed to the ground, his entire body convulsing.

The back of his head bent toward his spine at an impossible angle, while his legs arched stiffly backward.

His whole body curved into a parenthesis.

The baseball cap he had been wearing fell off, and his sweat-soaked hair spilled loose.

Concerned, the driver stepped forward to check on him. One look, and his feet rooted to the spot as he sucked in a sharp breath.

The convulsing Lao Yu was bleeding from his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.

Dark red blood gushed out as if it cost nothing.

After a moment of stunned silence, the driver and the mover let out two piercing screams that echoed through the streets and alleys.

Just then, Zong Li’s shout came from the street. “Zhang Lang!”

The moment his voice fell, Zhang Lang was no longer the useless coward he had been before. Like an arrow loosed from a bow, he shot down the long street in pursuit.

At the corner of the street, someone was fleeing into the distance.

His back was hunched, and his steps were unsteady, as though he had been injured.

Qin Ying did not follow to give chase. She saw a thin red thread crawl out of Lao Yu’s ear canal as he lay on the ground.

It draped over his earlobe, wriggling faintly.