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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 174: One Billion Underworld Coins
Fat Red Bill was overjoyed, as if he had truly stumbled upon a gold ingot. He danced around, not even knowing how to walk properly. His face was filled with laughter, his eyes squinting into slits from grinning so widely. I sighed inwardly; it seemed this guy was beyond saving, his eyes lost in the money. I followed him into the house.
He turned around mysteriously and closed the door, adopting a serious demeanor. "Brother Qi, let's discuss how to split this money."
"What do you mean?"
He shrugged his shoulders, a habit he had picked up from me, then proceeded to pick his nose with one hand while patting my shoulder with the other. I stepped aside and whispered, "I've told you not to randomly pat people's shoulders; you never remember."
"Hey, Brother Qi, this is just a habit! I originally wanted to team up with you to turn this old shop left by Grandpa into something great. But look at us; we're both at the age where we should be finding wives and having kids. This old shop is a hindrance—no girl wants to get close to me because of it. I've been daydreaming about women day and night. So, let’s split this money and go our separate ways; we can sell this old shop..."
I couldn't help but feel that Fat resembled Zhu Bajie from Journey to the West—lazy and always trying to incite Sha Monk to rebel and share the burdens of Tang Seng.
I remained silent, waiting for him—just as he was getting into his groove, suddenly—bam! An old picture frame hanging on the wall fell down and hit him right on the head.
I glanced at the wall where the frame had hung; the nail looked perfectly fine, so how could it have come loose? The glass of the frame shattered upon impact. It was an old frame with some history behind it. Neither Fat nor I recognized the people in it; Grandpa's master was in there, and the shortest one was a young Uncle Luo.
The frame was covered in dust and had a few cobwebs.
I bent down to pick up the frame and muttered, "See? Grandpa is showing his spirit, punishing you for your nonsense."
"Brother Qi, keep dreaming! I think it's just that the old frame couldn't hold on anymore. This Old House really isn't fit for living," he said, denying that being hit was any kind of ominous sign. Yet as he spoke, he instinctively cradled his head and nervously scanned the surroundings for any changes.
"Pfft..." I couldn't help but laugh.
Seeing me laugh, Fat grabbed a handful of his hair and chuckled foolishly. Then, under my watchful gaze, he bent down and reached under the bed to pull something out. He emerged with a shoebox tied with twine, cradling it like a treasure as if afraid someone would snatch it away from him.
"Brother Qi, all the money is here. I have no intention of keeping it for myself. You're my buddy, how about we split it fifty-fifty?"
"If it's really money, I don't want a single cent; it's all yours."
"You're kidding me. Who doesn't like money? Only a fool would turn it down. Even a two-year-old would smile at the sight of cash. You don't... hmph, that's ridiculous!"
As he spoke, Fatty eagerly untied the hemp rope. Once the rope was loosened, I couldn't help but feel suspicious about how much money was actually in the box. He impatiently opened the shoebox, and I quickly stepped forward to take a closer look, gasping in shock. Inside the opened shoebox were neatly stacked brand-new bills, but they weren't Renminbi; they were one hundred thousand and five hundred thousand denominations of Hell Money forged by the Underworld.
The current Hell Money looks so much like Renminbi that Fatty must have been so obsessed with money that he mistook it for real currency. Seeing the cash, his mind went wild as he treated this shoebox full of Hell Money like a treasure and tried to hide it away. I didn't even need to count carefully; just a simple multiplication in my head told me this was a total of One Billion Underworld Coins!
Seeing that the shoebox contained Hell Money, Fatty's face fell, turning pale as he panicked and didn't know what to do.
"This... Brother Qi... how is this possible? It clearly looks like money." The Ghost Festival Fifteenth was just around the corner, the day when the Ghost Gate would open, and countless spirits would emerge. At this time, their relatives would burn prepared offerings and Hell Money to send to them.
Ghost Month is also Ghost Festival, a holiday for spirits. Who would leave a box of Hell Money on the counter? Was it some prank from our neighbors? But this isn't April Fool's Day; this joke isn't funny at all.
Receiving Hell Money while alive is actually considered a curse in folk belief. Years ago, I heard my grandfather talk about an Evil Art called Buying Life Technique, which involves giving Hell Money to someone in advance; shortly after, that person's life would be in danger.
"You’re doomed! Do you know the top ten taboos of Ghost Month? And you still brought this money back? You want to split it? Not a single cent from me; it's all yours now! Prepare to pay with your life!" I said this and turned to leave, ignoring Fatty who was sweating profusely from fear.
My words terrified Fatty so much that he clutched the Hell Money as if it were a ticking time bomb—he couldn't throw it away or keep it. After catching up with me, he stood in front of me, crying and mourning as he begged for help.
Everyone has their past lives and present lives intertwined. If a normal person finds money in a dream, it means their ancestors are burning money for them. But Fatty is very much alive; how could he inexplicably receive such a large amount of Hell Money?
"Someone is cursing you. If you don’t believe me, flip over each piece of Hell Money and look; your name is written on them." Fatty didn't believe me but had no choice but to check. He cautiously set down the shoebox and pulled out one bill to examine closely. Upon seeing it, he trembled in fear, causing all the Hell Money to fall to the ground.
What lies behind Hell Money? I initially intended to scare him, but seeing his reaction piqued my curiosity. Ignoring his protests, I walked over and picked up a piece of Hell Money from the ground. After glancing at it, I couldn't help but laugh, "Haha..." But then I froze.
Who the hell did this to me? There were the words "Ma Qi" written on the back of the Hell Money. I looked at Fatty; he was staring back at me, then waved his hands dismissively. "Brother Qi, this has nothing to do with me. I didn't even notice if your name was on the back."
"Are you sure it's not you?" Ignoring him, I continued to pick up other pieces of Hell Money, examining each one. Finally, I found a piece with the name "Zhu Dachang" on it. Without saying a word, I handed it to him with a serious expression.
Fatty took it, sweat pouring down his forehead like rain, and his hands trembled uncontrollably as he began picking up more Hell Money. About half of them had his name on them, and half had mine. One Billion Underworld Coins— we really split it down the middle.
"You won't say anything about this to anyone else, will you? Or..." I suspected someone had installed a camera in our shop or something similar. Otherwise, how could what Fatty said over the phone have turned into reality?
Fatty wiped cold sweat off his brow with his fist, deep in thought as if he remembered something. Tears streamed down his face as he nearly sobbed, "It’s about that Yin Marriage last time. I took their money and had gambling debts. You sent Yin Yin away; they definitely won't let this go easily. This time, you're cursed along with me."
Is this for real? If so, I'm not scared of him; what worries me more is another matter—the Monkey Spirit incident. Let's not forget there's also a Li Gui causing trouble. I secretly checked: Zhou Mengyao, Monkey Spirit, Chiang, and Lin Tai may not have been born on the same day or month, but they were all born at the same hour—Yin Day at Hai Time.
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