“Huh?”

The old Taoist, carrying the drinks, paused.

“I say, brother, didn't you die a bit too tragically?”

Even the old Taoist, who had "seen countless ghosts," was startled by the man's death.

Fortunately,

it was just a slight shock,

nothing more.

Guests are guests,

customers are gods.

If you're in the "bookstore" business,

and you still dare to be picky with your customers, then you'll have a hard time finding any you like.

Even the most beautiful or handsome person in life can rarely guarantee a pleasant death.

Lawyer An isn't at the bookstore right now. He took the little loli and the little boy to Xuzhou to carry out the "Rescue My Good Brother Gengchen" operation.

But a while ago, at the bookstore, Lawyer An and the old Taoist had considered ways to generate revenue after resuming business.

For example, using a special camera to beautify "ghosts," then printing them out and sending them to the ghosts' relatives and friends in the Yang realm.

Then, the bookstore would charge extra for the photo and delivery fees.

This is an innovative way of thinking, and can also be considered an industrial upgrade.

Essentially, it's like slapping "low sugar," "low fat," and "low calorie" labels on food that can't be sold.

As for worrying that the ghosts' appearances might scare their relatives and friends in the Yang realm?

That won't happen.

Open up WeChat Moments, and it's full of beauty experts. They can definitely edit the photos to a satisfactory effect.

Xu Qinglang left the dining table, preparing to get some food ready in the private room.

The man took the wine cup from the old Taoist, took a sip, and smiled.

He said:

"Finally free."

"Life was tiring, wasn't it?"

The old Taoist thoughtfully kept him company.

Tests had been done before. There was a clear difference in the hell money left by customers sent to hell depending on whether or not the old Taoist kept them company.

Clearly, having a caring old Taoist to chat with before going to hell is very comforting.

As long as people's hearts are warmed, it's easier to get them to spend money.

"Life is good."

The man sighed, looked at the old Taoist, handed back the empty cup, and said slowly:

"It's only after death that you get tired."

The man's gaze was clear and calm.

Generally speaking, most souls about to be reincarnated are in a state of "unfinished business."

After all, in this world, few people live clearly and depart freely and naturally.

Among them, there will be some extremes, even "madmen."

This kind of calmness is indeed rare.

The man was wearing black pants and a white coat, but the pants and clothes were long rotten, covered in heavy stains.

It felt

like he'd just been dug out of the ground.

"Brother, how did you die?"

"I was killed."

Hearing this answer,

the hand of a certain politically correct individual sitting at the round table suddenly trembled.

Old Zhang raised his head,

looked at the man,

and realized that things were not as simple as he had imagined.

Zhou Ze took the bowl of soup from Yingying and silently drank it.

After sending down too many ghosts, people easily become numb.

Reality is always more penetrating than written descriptions.

Boss Zhou was long accustomed to this kind of thing and no longer felt the initial righteous indignation. It was like doing work on an assembly line, day after day, becoming a habit.

Perhaps,

that's why Boss Zhou kept Old Zhang around,

because Old Zhang,

can occasionally remind Boss Zhou,

oh,

I'm still a person,

and I should occasionally do some human things.

Old Zhang quickly swallowed the food in his mouth, almost choking, patted his chest, and walked over, taking out his notebook from his chest pocket.

He said:

"How did you die?"

"Heh heh, are you filming *Hell Detective*?"

Liu Chuyu couldn't help but joke when he saw Old Zhang like this.

He wanted to liven up the atmosphere. Besides, he was now a constable, while Old Zhang, his former colleague, was still just a ghost messenger, so he felt he could make fun of Old Zhang.

But everyone was eating their food or drinking their soup, and no one cooperated with Liu Chuyu by laughing.

A joke?

Who do you think you are?

Are you worthy of mocking political correctness?

Didn't you see that even the boss was silent, tacitly approving Old Zhang's behavior?

Liu Chuyu awkwardly lowered his head

and continued

eating.

"Are you a policeman?"

The man looked at Old Zhang, still calm.

Old Zhang nodded, took out his credentials, and placed them in front of the man.

As a ghost messenger, he had a natural advantage in status over the souls of the dead. Some ghost messengers with more rules couldn't wait to make people kowtow and display an even grander air than Yama during the process of sending souls to hell.

This is the origin of the saying that it's easier to deal with Yama than with the little devils under him.

But Old Zhang preferred to think of himself as a policeman rather than a ghost messenger.

"So, it's really a policeman."

The man nodded.

"Can you talk about your situation? You just said you were killed."

"Yes, I was killed."

The man was still calm, as if he wasn't talking about his own affairs.

"Who killed you?"

Old Zhang took out his pen, ready to record.

"I've been dead for sixteen years. Do you think there's any point in saying this now?"

Old Zhang paused. Sixteen years?

"Don't you want revenge?" the old Taoist said from the side. "Bring the person who harmed you to justice!"

The man laughed when he heard this.

The laugh made Old Zhang very uncomfortable.

Old Zhang wasn't angry, but the smile made him uneasy.

He knew what the smile meant. In his long career as a criminal policeman, he had seen this smile many times.

Desolate, powerless, helpless, and finally, numb.

"Speak."

Old Zhang reminded him.

Sixteen years is an old case. Human witnesses and physical evidence may be severely "damaged," and the police investigation conditions sixteen years ago can't compare to now.

The most typical example is DNA testing. In fact, for a long time after this technology appeared, many local police couldn't use it for various reasons at first.

Old Zhang remembered that in the early days, the bureau had to submit an application to a foreign research institute to do a DNA test. By the time it was done, everything was cold, and the cost was high.

Time can erase too many traces.

But Old Zhang didn't lose confidence because of this, because he could directly "interview" the victim. This was almost a bug in the police force. Holmes's analytical reasoning, no matter how great, couldn't compare to this true "dead man talking."

"Now, what's the point of saying this?"

The man shrugged

and continued:

"Back then, I reported upwards, various denunciations, but they all sank without a trace. I've been trapped there for sixteen years. What haven't I seen through, what haven't I figured out?"

"Boss, why sixteen years?" Liu Chuyu whispered to Zhou Ze at the dinner table.

"Maybe it's because there's something special about the place where he died, like a bond or something spiritual, or there's a special aura or building nearby that kept his soul gathered there without dispersing, preventing him from being reincarnated."

This is equivalent to sitting in jail for sixteen years, and the most terrifying and lonely jail at that.

Zhou Ze looked up at the man.

He could tell

that the other party wasn't really indifferent or seeing things clearly.

Rather,

he was extremely disappointed.

Old Zhang picked up his police hat, pointed to the police badge on it,

and said very seriously:

"Since I'm wearing this uniform, I will be worthy of this uniform.

I can probably guess what misfortune you encountered back then, encountered...

But please believe me, most policemen are good policemen. They respect this responsibility and mission."

"Clap clap clap!"

Liu Chuyu started clapping.

Zhou Ze kicked Liu Chuyu's leg.

Liu Chuyu lowered his head aggrievedly.

Wuwu~~ (┬＿┬)

The man looked at Old Zhang very seriously,

and Old Zhang looked at him very seriously.

Finally,

the man nodded

and said:

"You're a good policeman."

"Thank you, so..."

"But I'm here to reincarnate, and I don't have any money to pay you. To be honest, my family probably thought I was missing. They haven't burned me any money in the past sixteen years.

I don't have any money to pay you to help me seek justice."

"Money, what is that?"

Zhou Ze said at this moment.

But in his heart, he was actually thinking:

So after all this time,

there's no money?

This is supposed to be a grand opening sale,

what a loss!

But Zhou Ze looked at Old Zhang's serious and solemn expression.

Alright,

no money is no money,

it's worth it to make political correctness happy.

"That's right, the boss is right, we don't want money. Please tell me, what exactly happened to you back then? I'll guarantee you here, no matter who's involved, no matter what forces are involved, I will help you clear your name and ensure that evil is punished."

If someone else said this, they might be bragging.

But when Old Zhang said this,

it was full of sincerity.

If Old Zhang in his previous life only acted without violating his own bottom line,

Old Zhang, who had died once,

Old Zhang, who had become a ghost messenger,

had already become the type of person who, when he saw evil, would break the pot and sell the iron, not hesitate to do whatever it took to kill you, no matter what your background was, what connections you had, or how much power you possessed, he would definitely screw you, you little bastard.

"Sit down, let's eat and talk." Old Xu pointed to the private room.

The man was led into the private room.

Old Zhang sat next to him, pouring him wine.

The man ate dried tea while saying:

"I was the village accountant of Chenjia Village. Sixteen years ago, I reported that our village chief illegally occupied the village's land and embezzled national poverty alleviation funds.

I reported it to the town government, to the police, to every agency I could report to at the time."

"And then?" the old Taoist asked.

"Then, the village chief's younger brother brought people to ambush me on the road at night with sacks, and I was buried alive under the village gate arch that was being built at the time.

Buried,

for sixteen years."

"Ah." The old Taoist sighed.

At the door, Liu Chuyu, who heard the story, asked with some confusion:

"He's been buried for sixteen years, how can his soul come out now? Did something happen?

And it's such a coincidence, not a day early, not a day late. If he had come out a few days earlier, the gates of hell wouldn't have opened yet, and his soul might have dissipated directly."

Zhou Ze's gaze looked outside, at the internet cafe across the street.

Liu Chuyu followed his gaze

and saw the rolling letters on the electronic screen that the old Taoist had made according to the requirements of the subdistrict office:

"Sweep away the black and eliminate evil, punish every evil, crack down on every black..."

Liu Chuyu sighed: "So, justice may be late, but it will never be absent."

Zhou Ze suddenly smiled.

Liu Chuyu also smiled. He finally sighed correctly and hit the point. Damn it, he didn't feel it when he was in Changzhou, but now that he's in Nantong, it's like serving a tiger!

(*^__^*)

Zhou Ze turned around

and shouted to the old Taoist:

"Old Taoist."

"Yes, Boss?"

"Tomorrow, put up an electronic screen in front of the bookstore too, a big one."