Chapter 1 Accompaniment

Accompanying someone is the longest confession of love, especially when that companionship is impossible in person. The livestreamer finally left, not having met the person who asked her to come here. She would probably go back and ask why that account had stood her up.

What she likely didn't know was that person had permanently left this world.

The boy had asked Zhou Ze to send him off on his own accord. Zhou Ze didn't ask him what obsession kept him lingering in the mortal realm, and he didn't answer either. This time, sending a departed soul to hell was easy and simple.

Even, it could be described as "peaceful."

No resistance, no struggle, no complaints, only a sense of composure.

After finishing this job, Zhou Ze went to take a shower and went upstairs to rest. Since moving to the new shop, business had actually improved a lot. Looking at the constantly stacking stacks of hell money, it was indeed able to give "ghosts" a great sense of satisfaction.

He woke up at noon. When he went downstairs, Zhou Ze saw the old Daoist sitting behind the bar, teasing the little monkey.

"Good morning, Boss," the old Daoist greeted.

Zhou Ze nodded.

He sat down on the sofa by the window. Another lazy day bathed in sunlight was about to begin. This kind of life was really pleasant, especially looking at the endless stream of people outside Nan Street.

Everyone rushes about for profit. Watching others busy for their livelihood and dreams, while he could steal half a day of leisure, the comparison gave a sense of superiority, and the superiority gave a better enjoyment.

"Boss, what would you like to drink?"

Bai Yingying woke up when Zhou Ze woke up. If she strayed too far, Zhou Ze's sleep would be interrupted.

"Tea, please."

Bai Yingying quickly brewed the tea and brought it over, placing an ashtray in front of Zhou Ze, then lighting his cigarette before leaving.

Sometimes, Zhou Ze himself was a little confused whether Bai Yingying knew Bai Furen's instructions, which was why she took care of him so meticulously. But looking at her, she really seemed a bit innocent and naive, and she was very respectful and worshipful of her Bai Furen.

Some questions were not suitable for getting to the bottom of, as that would be meaningless. Zhou Ze was also willing to continue playing dumb.

Drinking tea,

Smoking a cigarette,

Anyway, there weren't many ghosts during the day, and he wouldn't really get busy until night.

Actually, Zhou Ze still preferred sitting in the bookstore, waiting for customers to come to his door, like Jiang Taigong fishing, waiting for the willing to take the bait. It wasn't that it was particularly classy, but he just found it less tiring.

He didn't like running around; it was too much of a hassle.

He picked up today's newspaper and flipped through it. The life-gambling case was already fermenting and under trial. The police were acting quickly, and the behind-the-scenes investors and others were being controlled and arrested, awaiting a just trial.

Just then, the bookstore door behind Zhou Ze was pushed open, and the person who walked in made the old Daoist's eyes light up, and his eyes immediately revealed a fierce light!

It wasn't strange that the old Daoist suddenly acted this way because the person who came in was a monk with the precepts scars on his head. He even seemed to have ringworm. A ringworm monk, quite interesting.

The monk wasn't tall, only about 1.6 meters, and a little chubby. He didn't have the demeanor of a highly respected monk and was far from the old Daoist's imposing, ethereal bearing.

Since ancient times, Buddhism and Daoism had been at odds. During the ancient dynasties, when Daoism flourished, Buddhism was suppressed, and when Buddhism flourished, Daoism was suppressed. After all, they were competing for believers and resources; if you had more, I would naturally have less.

From the old Daoist's perspective, the bookstore was his territory, and this ringworm monk seemed to be here to challenge him.

But unexpectedly, the ringworm monk didn't even look at the old Daoist. Facing the "antagonistic meaning" released by the old Daoist, he just smiled, then walked directly to the opposite side of Zhou Ze and sat down.

"A cup of tea,"

the ringworm monk said.

The old Daoist, with a gloomy face, brought a cup of tea over and reminded, "The minimum charge here is one hundred, and we don't accept fortune-telling or feng shui consultations."

The ringworm monk slightly raised his head, looked at the old Daoist, and smiled,

"We are different."

We are different.

A very profound sentence that both belittled the old Daoist and elevated himself.

The meaning was that you are a swindler who just muddles through, while I have real talent and learning. We are different.

Zhou Ze exhaled a smoke ring, which happened to blow into the other party's face.

It wasn't that Zhou Ze wanted to stand up for the old Daoist. After all, the visitor was a guest, but as soon as the other party entered the bookstore, Zhou Ze felt a vague sense of unease.

The ringworm monk wasn't angry; he just put his hands together and chanted, "Amitabha."

Suddenly, Zhou Ze felt uncomfortable all over, as if ants were crawling all over his body.

At that moment, the fingers of Zhou Ze's hand holding the cigarette began to slowly grow black fingernails.

"Almsgiver, please calm your anger. This humble monk has come to drink tea and read books, with no malice."

The ringworm monk released his hands, picked up the teacup, and took a sip. Immediately, Zhou Ze's discomfort dissipated.

"Go and do your work," Zhou Ze said to the old Daoist.

The old Daoist could only retreat.

"Almsgiver, opening this shop in the middle of the bustling city is indeed a bit interesting, finding elegance in the midst of noise."

Zhou Ze didn't speak.

"This humble monk is on a pilgrimage, and it just so happened that I came to Tong City today, only to find that my two old friends were gone. I was really curious, and after some investigation, I learned that a person like you, Almsgiver, had appeared in Tong City."

"Who are your two friends?"

"One is a woman, in her prime. The other is an old man, serving in the Wen Temple."

Zhou Ze pondered slightly. The former should refer to the female ghost messenger who had the problem, and the latter should be the dwarf old man in the Wen Temple.

"Are you here to avenge them?"

"Not at all, not at all. The arising and passing of karma are all predetermined; joys and sorrows, separations and reunions, all depend on fate. Everything cannot be forced, nor should it be forced. This humble monk has come today only to see the Almsgiver, to sit down and talk with the Almsgiver, and to form a good connection."

"It seems like the people who form good connections with you don't have good endings."

The ringworm monk smiled speechlessly upon hearing this.

Then, Zhou Ze didn't speak, and the ringworm monk didn't speak either. The atmosphere suddenly became awkward.

It was probably when the tea had cooled that the ringworm monk finally spoke:

"This humble monk has come to talk to the messenger about some thoughts and explain some concepts. Every time this humble monk goes to a place, I always find the local messenger to talk to."

"Speak, I'm listening. After you finish speaking, you have to pay."

"The Buddha said that all living beings are equal. The living beings here actually include not only the living but also the dead. They are born here, grow up here, and are actually no different from the living.

In the eyes of this humble monk, they are also people, also members of all living beings.

Those who seek goodness are the foundation of all living beings and should be cherished.

Those who fall into evil are the scourge of all living beings and should be punished.

If there are ghosts and monsters that harm people, there will naturally be the Vajra's angry glare, but ordinary departed souls who linger in the world due to obsessions or various reasons, this humble monk believes that they have this right and this freedom.

However, since the collapse of Mount Tai's Lord of the Underworld, the affairs of the underworld have been carried out with the method of merit points and performance. All ghosts and monsters who linger in the human world must be sent to hell.

This humble monk has always disagreed with this kind of behavior.

Therefore, I have come to persuade the superior messenger that ghosts also have likes and dislikes, and also have advantages and disadvantages. Everything cannot be cut with one knife; otherwise, it is lazy governance and dereliction of duty."

Zhou Ze wanted to laugh a little.

Seeing Zhou Ze's reaction, the ringworm monk sighed. A practitioner of the Way should go against the current, knowing that it is impossible to do but still doing it.

He picked up the newspaper in front of Zhou Ze, opened it to the last page, which contained news from another province about a murder case.

"This humble monk has read this newspaper. When this incident happened, this humble monk was not far from there.

A man disappeared, and his relatives reported the case. The police speculated that he might have been killed, but they couldn't find the body and were at a loss.

At this time, a woman in the same village told the police that her deceased mother had appeared to her in a dream last night, telling her that someone was buried next to her house, occupying her land.

The police initially treated it as a joke, but when they sent people to check near her mother's grave, they found a newly turned soil. After digging, they found the body of the missing man.

Later, based on the evidence left on the body, they found the real murderer, Li, who was from the same village.

The real murderer was caught, and the victim was able to rest in peace.

In this case, the soul of the woman's mother did a good deed. Good and evil are in the heart.

Although she lingered in the local area and did not go to hell, she did not harm people, and even helped people. Do you think the underworld should take this kind of ghost into hell?

She may just want to watch her children and grandchildren grow up and carry on the family line, that's all."

Zhou Ze picked up the cold tea, took a sip, and shook his head.

Obviously, Zhou Ze didn't agree with this statement.

"You still haven't been able to convince me. I'm sorry for making you come all this way. You can go to other cities and other places to find other ghost messengers to talk about your ideals and concepts. Maybe you can find a soulmate and fight for ghost rights together with you."

The ringworm monk smiled helplessly. Obviously, he had seen this kind of feedback a lot. At the moment, he helplessly picked up the newspaper again, looked at the news on it, and sighed again.

Zhou Ze reached out and pressed the newspaper down.

The ringworm monk looked at Zhou Ze in confusion.

"Monk, there's a saying: don't rush to run before you've learned to walk. You say you've been fighting for the rights of ghosts, but you can't even see people clearly. What qualifications do you have to speak for ghosts?"

"What do you mean?"

Zhou Ze reached out and poked the news, shaking his head, and said:

"You said you were in that place at that time, so did you find the old mother's soul in that village?"

The ringworm monk shook his head, "This humble monk was not fortunate enough to see her. If I had been fortunate enough to see her, I would definitely treat her with courtesy. Although the old woman's body has fallen, her good thoughts still exist."

Zhou Ze smiled, "I haven't been to that place, but I can bet a drawer of hell money with you that there is no such thing as the old mother's soul. After she died, her soul would have gone to hell long ago."

"How is that possible… you are a ghost messenger, don't you believe that there are ghosts in this world?"

The ringworm monk found it absurd.

"The person who disappeared and was killed was from the same village.

The murderer who hid the body was also from the same village.

Then there's a woman who dreamt and told the police the clue, also from the same village, isn't that obvious enough?"

Zhou Ze lit another cigarette and said, "The newspaper said that the police didn't believe it at first, but after excavating the tomb and finding the body, they also felt very strange. This is the reporter's writing style, in order to write the news in an interesting way and attract topics.

But in reality, I believe the local police know it clearly.

The woman came to report, most likely because she passed by and saw the murderer hiding the body."

"Then why didn't she tell the police directly?" the ringworm monk asked.

"Because the murderer is also from the same village. The murderer may have parents, children, brothers, and sisters. If she went directly to report, wouldn't she be hated by the murderer's family?

So, she used the ghost and god story, what old mother's dream, to vaguely reveal the clue in this way, so that she wouldn't be hated.

It's like some abduction cases in remote areas, do you think the neighbors don't know that this family bought a person back?

Or, do you think everyone in the whole village is a bad person, no one has a conscience, no one has good thoughts in their hearts?

It's just because everyone feels that if they report it, they will offend the neighbors who they see every day. Even if they sympathize with the poor woman who was trafficked, they can only pretend they didn't see it."

The ringworm monk was slightly stunned and confused: "What is this?"

"Human nature."