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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 14: Ghost Month Taboos (Part Two)
“No, it’s nothing, just had a nightmare.”
I have this bad habit of dozing off in the car, which Mi knows, but the others don’t. Because of my nightmare, they rarely laughed so heartily. Perhaps this was the first time they laughed so freely after experiencing the Hongqiao Supermarket accident.
Maybe they overestimated my abilities, thinking that with me around, they would get through this tough time and never have to hear or see anything strange again.
I checked my phone; it was five in the afternoon.
At this time, there were still a few people walking on Cobblestone Street, and the row of elegant street lamps stood as a luxurious decoration. By nightfall, they would serve no purpose.
I temporarily rented an empty house near the street for our group. When we paused, Mi asked, “Brother Qi, why did you bring them here?”
I sent one of them to buy bottled water—one for each person—and replied to Han Mi with a mischievous smile, “You’ll find out soon enough, dear.”
“Go on, don’t let anyone hear you.”
“What’s there to be afraid of? You’re already my wife, and we’ve been intimate; why are you shy?” Mi blushed, her face turning slightly red. I chuckled softly and said, “Help me find some toys that kids usually play with.”
Mi hesitated. “That might be hard to find!” If this were left to Chi Xinrong, it wouldn’t be difficult at all.
“Nowadays, it all comes down to one thing: money. With money, anything is possible.” I pulled out my wallet and handed Mi three red bills. “The older ones feel more authentic.”
“What should I buy?”
“Harmonicas, glass beads, rubber bands—anything like that will do.”
Han Mi was puzzled about why I wanted these things. “Don’t ask; just hurry and figure out how to gather these items.” Watching her toss her ponytail as she headed to the store, I instructed the remaining people to help fold Paper Men and took out a cinnabar pen to start drawing talismans.
We were gathered under the large street trees, and some curious passersby stopped to watch, thinking we were playing a game. After a while, they lost interest and left, but a few nearby children were reluctant to go.
"Uncle, what are you doing?"
"Kids, it's getting dark. Don't you know what festival this is?"
"Uncle, don't scare me. My parents say there are no ghosts in this world. The Ghost Festival is just a day for honoring our ancestors; ghosts are just a hypothetical concept."
"You’re very clever, kid. Read more. There are no ghosts in this world; they exist only in people's hearts. Now hurry back home."
Seeing my gloomy expression and the emotionless faces of the others, the children were frightened. They exchanged glances and then ran off in a panic.
The folded paper figures were laid out on the ground as I drew facial features on them. I also painted symbols on the backs of the paper figures. By the time the heavyset man arrived, sweating profusely, I had nearly finished my work. He had rented a four-wheeled cart and brought everything needed to set up the altar.
As night fell around six o'clock, we looked from a distance at the entire silent cobblestone street, shrouded in an atmosphere of solitude that felt completely out of place compared to the street where I was renting a room. It resembled a ghost town.
Those summoned from the blacklist began discussing the cobblestone street.
"I wonder if there are any living people left on this street?"
"I heard they're going to demolish it."
"You all don’t know? This street used to be a mass grave. When they built it, they leveled the burial ground and buried corpses deep. Otherwise, how could this street be so eerie?"
"No, I heard that during World War II, people from the island nation caused trouble here. A village with hundreds of residents used to exist just a hundred meters ahead of Cobblestone Street. The island nation soldiers came one night and burned, killed, and looted; the entire village was massacred. After that, things were never peaceful here again. When the island nation soldiers surrendered, those damned island nation demons all committed suicide right here. That's why Cobblestone Street is so cursed."
"Ahem, enough idle talk; think about your own lives!"
With a single word from me, the entire room fell silent; even a cough could not be heard. Fatty was seriously focused on sketching the features of the Paper Man. His drawing skills were quite good, and he crafted the Paper Figurine exceptionally well. For him, this was a piece of cake.
In the midst of this serene atmosphere, Mifeng rushed in, carrying a heavy bag. She approached me and said, "Brother Qi, I brought these for you to take a look."
With a flurry of sounds, she dumped the contents of the bag onto the table. Wow! Not bad at all—rubber bands, slingshots, glass beads, and even some strung together with abacus beads.
"Is there enough money?"
"Yes."
"That's good." As I spoke, I took out several scriptures, all related to soul guiding, including the Supernatural Scriptures. While doing this, I couldn't help but think about another matter: Qin Jian still hadn't contacted me.
It felt rather eerie.
The Ten-Mile Temple wasn't far away, but once you stepped into its vicinity, all signals disappeared. So I had refrained from reaching out to Qin Jian, hoping he would contact me first.
Everything was ready; we just needed a little push.
I hurriedly called Uncle Zhang. Despite his seemingly casual demeanor, he had quite a bit of knowledge about these Supernatural Scriptures and knew how to recite them. When I mentioned that I needed to guide the wandering souls from Cobblestone Street, he readily agreed to help. I didn't tell him about Yuyaya and Li Gui because I feared it might scare him off.
Unexpectedly, Uncle Zhang sensed that I was hiding something during our phone call. After persistent questioning, I had no choice but to tell him the truth. Instead of showing fear or reluctance to come, he scolded me for not being straightforward; if I hadn't revealed the truth, something might have gone wrong.
Uncle Zhang knew more than I did. He had a deep friendship with my grandfather and had witnessed him handling funerals firsthand. Although he wasn't a Mortician, his understanding surpassed that of an average Mortician. Sometimes when my grandfather was busy, he would send me to consult Uncle Zhang.
I wanted Uncle Zhang to come because I didn't want any mishaps tonight. The people on the Blacklist were those who had narrowly escaped death; as long as nothing happened tonight, they would be safe in the future.
Uncle Zhang arrived in a hurry without even having dinner; his son drove him over.
"Seven, my dad's health isn't what it used to be, you need to give me some heart." Zhang's Son was a taxi driver, and from his tone, it seemed he wasn't keen on Uncle Zhang coming over; it was Uncle Zhang who insisted on visiting.
I was grateful for Uncle Zhang's assistance and immediately had Mi order food.
"Brother Qi, with so many people, why don't we go for hotpot?"
"I love hotpot," the Fatty cheered.
The others probably hadn't had a decent meal in a long time; they exchanged glances and agreed to go for hotpot.
In A City, there was a well-known Liu Yishou Hotpot Restaurant, famous for its spicy flavor. The spiciness would make you curse, yet you'd still have to gulp it down, with the heat rising in your throat like a fragrant explosion that made you shout in delight.
The condiments included garlic paste, cilantro, and all sorts of well-prepared side ingredients. The bright red broth bubbled with delicious dishes. Everyone was enjoying themselves so much that they craved some drinks, but I prohibited it: "You can save your lives for drinking tomorrow; tonight, not a drop."
After eating and drinking to our fill, the one who had to pay the bill was none other than the unlucky Fatty. His money was my money; if these people died tonight, we would just consider it a practice run for them. If they survived, the Red Envelopes they brought would be worth much more than this.
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