Driving back to Guangzhou under the starry night, the journey felt shorter than the way there, as the roads were much less crowded. By the time I arrived home, it was still dark outside. Upon opening the door, I saw Liu Bi sitting on the sofa with a gloomy expression.
Seeing me return, Liu Bi stood up and asked, "Why are you back so soon? Didn't you want to stay at home a few more days?"
I changed my shoes and set down my things before asking, "Yeah, but why do you look so down?"
Liu Bi shook his head and didn’t respond directly.
Since he was unwilling to talk, I decided not to press further.
"How's Mr. Huang doing?" I asked while stifling a yawn.
Liu Bi replied, "Ah, he stayed under my Oiled Paper Umbrella for two days. He’s feeling much better now. But these past couple of days have been tough for me; aside from Mu Xue, I'm really not used to sharing an umbrella with a grown man."
I nodded and said, "That's good to hear. Let me see if I can send him off now." I glanced at the clock on the wall; it was almost six in the morning.
"Maybe not. It’s almost dawn; I'll deal with it tonight," I said as I walked toward my bedroom.
Liu Bi hesitated behind me and said, "Hey, brother. There's something I need to tell you."
As my hand reached for the doorknob, curiosity piqued at his tone since he had never spoken to me like that before.
"What is it?"
"Uh... never mind. I'll tell you once I'm sure about it. Good night, no—good morning," Liu Bi said before heading toward his study.
Shaking my head, I entered my room, quickly changed into my pajamas, and jumped into bed, falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
In the middle of my sleep, I was awakened by a call from Master Xiao. He asked where I was, and I told him I was back in Guangzhou. He mentioned he wouldn’t be returning to Shanghai just yet and planned to stay in Guangzhou for a few days. I asked why he hadn’t mentioned this earlier; he could have helped me drive part of the way so I wouldn’t be so exhausted alone. He chuckled lewdly and said, "Because I just arranged to meet a friend from Guangzhou whom I've been chatting with for a long time but never met in person. Since there's nothing going on over here, I thought I'd swing by."
"Alright then, come over. Just don’t bring anyone home," I mumbled before hanging up and drifting back to sleep.
When I finally woke up, it was already afternoon. The sunlight streaming through my bedroom window made it bright enough to be somewhat blinding. In such an environment, it was hard to fall back asleep.
After getting up and cooking breakfast, I sprawled on the sofa to watch some television. As night fell, Liu Bi appeared in the living room, looking quite dejected. I didn’t ask what had happened; I simply lit three sticks of incense for it to enjoy.
Before Liu Bi finished its meal, Master Xiao arrived. Upon entering, he saw Liu Bi inhaling the incense and immediately snatched it away. In the past, Master Xiao loved to tease Liu Bi, and Liu Bi enjoyed playing along. However, this time, Liu Bi ignored him completely. After Master Xiao took its incense, Liu Bi merely shook its head and retreated into the study.
Master Xiao looked surprised and asked me what was wrong with Liu Bi. I shook my head to indicate that I didn’t know. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and headed to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready to meet someone online, asking if I wanted to join.
I declined, saying I couldn’t afford to be that person. Master Xiao shrugged it off, saying it didn’t matter since I would just be a third wheel anyway. I kicked him lightly and told him he could take the car as compensation.
Once Master Xiao left, I walked into the study but found no sign of Liu Bi. I set up a Soul Calling Array and placed an Oiled Paper Umbrella in the center to summon Mr. Huang’s spirit.
Mr. Huang’s condition had improved significantly compared to before. Although the scars on his face hadn’t completely faded, the coin-sized hole on his Yintang had gradually diminished, making him look much better than when I last saw him.
I tried to communicate with him, but he couldn’t speak and could only respond by nodding or shaking his head.
Seeing that his injuries had healed enough for him to move on, I decided it was time to let him go. This matter had dragged on for too long, so I didn’t ask him how he got hurt; instead, my first question was whether he wanted me to help him move on. To my surprise, he shook his head vigorously at this suggestion, his expression turning tense—clearly unwilling to leave just yet.
I felt puzzled. Mr. Huang had indeed suffered from cancer but had committed suicide at the end. If he had chosen to end his life, he must have been prepared for departure beforehand; my assistance would surely save him some trouble. Yet now he was reluctant to go—could it be related to his injuries?
He kept shaking his head, leaving me unsure of what he wanted to express. Since he couldn’t speak, I asked if he could write instead. He nodded in agreement. I grabbed a watercolor pen and a sheet of unused yellow paper from the desk and encouraged him to write down his thoughts.
He understood my intention and approached the desk to pick up the pen but struggled repeatedly without success.
Spirit beings have various capabilities when it comes to handling objects; some can grasp items while others cannot. Those who can typically aren’t ordinary wandering souls; however, their ability is still quite limited. They can handle things like clothing or paper but cannot touch sharp or blunt instruments because these items can cause harm and carry negative energy that spirits cannot interact with.
This limitation indirectly protects the living; as long as one is brave enough, they need not fear ghosts. They won’t use knives against you since such objects are off-limits for them. Many ghost stories circulate—whether written by others or recounted by elders—often featuring tales of people being scared senseless or even dying from fright but never of someone being killed by a ghost wielding a knife.
Thus, I specifically provided Mr. Huang with a watercolor pen; items like fountain pens or pencils have too sharp tips for him at this stage. Logically speaking, he should be able to manage a watercolor pen now, yet in reality, he couldn’t lift any of them.
I took a watercolor pen and drew a Hand Spell on it before handing it over to him. He accepted the pen and laboriously wrote two characters on the yellow talisman: “Revenge.”
Upon seeing those two characters, I slapped my forehead in realization—trouble was brewing again. It wasn’t that he wanted revenge on me directly; however, from those two words, it was clear that helping him move on would be quite difficult now. Until this grudge was resolved, I wouldn’t be able to assist him in departing.
Resolving this issue seemed daunting as well; first off, I had no desire to interact with Sister Li again or that doctor—especially Master Wang—who could easily summon several Social Brothers within moments to confront me. Most importantly, given Mr. Huang’s severe injuries, which I still didn’t understand how they occurred in the first place, what would happen if more professionals from within their circle got involved?
I was still young and just trying to live an ordinary life while fulfilling my duty of sending souls off peacefully. Engaging in unusual matters like this only led me into conflict with others—I wasn’t Guanyin Bodhisattva who would always intervene when witnessing injustice; I felt that having already helped Sister Li once without receiving any reward was sufficient for now. From the perspective of Feeding the Hungry Ghosts, that should have been enough karma established between us.
Mr. Huang finished writing those two characters and looked at me with a calm expression, his eyes vacant. This was typical behavior for a Spirit God; many New Souls couldn't even control their own expressions, but he had his own thoughts, only unable to express them through rich facial gestures.
Seeing my troubled expression, Mr. Huang turned his head and slowly wrote two more characters on the paper: "I beg you."
The writing was messy and lacked strength. However, I understood it clearly. Upon seeing those two characters, I felt a deep inner conflict; receiving such a request always made it hard for me to refuse. In my mind, when someone came to me for help, it was an experience I couldn't escape or hide from. As the saying goes, life is a form of cultivation; everything is part of that journey.
Mr. Huang continued to stare blankly at me. I sighed deeply and said, "Alright, but I must clarify that I won't engage in illegal or immoral activities, nor will I do anything that goes against my principles."
Mr. Huang nodded and flipped to another page of Yellow Talismans, preparing to write again. He trembled as he tried to write a single character for about ten seconds but didn't finish. I said, "Forget it; if you have something to say, just tell Liu Bi to relay it to me. If you keep writing like this, you'll be at it until dawn without making yourself clear."
After I spoke, Mr. Huang tilted his head at me, seemingly unaware of who Liu Bi was.
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