Chapter 1 A Rather Famous Place

In recent years, Tongcheng has a place that is quite famous, not for its economy, nor for its snacks, but for its college entrance exams.

For most senior high school students across the country, the Tongcheng mock exam papers are comparable to the Huanggang secret test papers.

Of course, originally, these things had no effect on Zhou Ze. His bookstore had long since broken away from its dependence on "living people's business."

It had already completed its industrial structure upgrade and transformation, making money from the dead.

However, the fat man who had come to him last time found him again.

The purpose was simple: the next semester was the college entrance exam semester, and the fat man planned to make another big move, doing business in pirated secret test papers.

There should be many twists and turns involved, and even an extremely complex chain of interests. Zhou Ze wasn't very clear, and in fact, Zhou Ze believed that Xu Le wouldn't be clear either.

The reason why the fat man planned to pull Xu Le in, both last time and this time, was entirely to take advantage of some of Xu Le's classmates' interpersonal relationships.

Xu Le, in the middle, was actually an intermediary that satisfied both parties.

Stupid,

but the most reassuring.

Piracy is an unavoidable hurdle in today's domestic social life, and even the so-called "Shanzhai" (counterfeit) culture derived from it seems to be booming, in full swing, and even gradually starting to break away from the category of derogatory terms and developing into neutral terms.

But after saying a thousand words and ten thousand words, it is still illegal. Although the current social atmosphere makes this phenomenon almost ubiquitous, if you are unlucky enough to be targeted, it is still a very troublesome matter.

Zhou Ze refused the fat man. The fat man left somewhat gloomily. Standing at the door, the fat man lit a cigarette and touched the gold chain around his neck, which was losing its gold powder,

and cursed:

"Moron."

Zhou Ze continued to sit behind the counter and read his book. The fat man's visit was nothing more than a small interlude in his life these days.

The female corpse, as usual, cleaned the bookstore and then sat on the chair, closing her eyes and leaning against the wall, as if in a daze, or pretending to be asleep.

The lives of the two people were stained with the atmosphere of an old woman's foot binding cloth.

Zhou Ze was content. He recalled that the thing he had looked forward to the most in his previous life was living in this way, wasting time, idling away, reading books, and daydreaming.

No need to be ready to face emergency patients at any time, nor did he need to constantly urge himself to work hard and climb up, bit by bit.

For the female corpse, she had been lying in a coffin for two hundred years and had long been accustomed to boredom and silence. Now, this was just a drizzle.

Compared to the bookstore's "calm as water," Xu Qinglang was much more ambitious and enterprising. He was wealthy and didn't really have much pursuit of metaphysics. Instead, he thought about how to make money and develop his business through his own abilities.

Therefore, Xu Qinglang was very unhappy with the decadent style of the master and servant next door!

"Look at you, you're as lazy as a dead man every day." Xu Qinglang, as usual, came over to have a cigarette after finishing his day's work, and by the way, threw some mockery at Zhou Ze.

"I'm a dead man to begin with." Zhou Ze waved his hand and exhaled a smoke ring.

"Look at you, you've lived two lifetimes, and you still don't have much money. I'm a man with more than twenty properties, and I'm still working hard."

As usual, after belittling Zhou Ze, he had to boast about himself.

Zhou Ze glanced at Xu Qinglang and laughed, "Are you preparing a dowry for yourself?"

"Filthy words from a dog's mouth." Xu Qinglang raised his head and looked at the night sky (roof), "I want to live more comfortably when I retire."

"More than twenty *yang* (living realm) houses are already attracting ghost mistresses to carry you back in a bridal sedan to get married. If you work harder, make more money, and buy more houses, next time, try to attract a female ghost king or something who feels like you're a good match, and I, this ghost messenger, can also benefit from you.

If you become rich, don't forget me."

"Hehe." The female corpse, who was pretending to be asleep beside them, cooperated with her boss.

"It's almost eight o'clock, I have to get ready." Xu Qinglang said, looking at the time.

"For what?" Zhou Ze was a little surprised.

Under normal circumstances, Xu Qinglang rested very early in the evening.

"Today is the day the Temple of Literature opens. Isn't the college entrance exam just a few months away? I have a relative back in my hometown whose child is taking the college entrance exam this year, and they asked me to go to the Temple of Literature to burn incense for him."

"You're willing to go to this?" Zhou Ze knew Xu Qinglang's temperament. Saying he was indifferent and selfish was a bit much, but he was generally too lazy to bother with anything other than making money.

"I ate at his house when I was a kid, and his family helped me out. Otherwise, I don't know if I would have been able to live long enough to see the demolition. So, I have to repay this favor." Xu Qinglang said seriously.

"Mm." Zhou Ze nodded.

"Why don't you come with me?" Xu Qinglang suddenly invited, "Help me grab the first incense?"

"Does the Temple of Literature even care about the first incense?"

"Hey, it's always a good omen, isn't it?"

"I'm not very strong." Zhou Ze had seen how crazy those people who grabbed the first incense were. His body couldn't really take it, unless he used his fingernails to clear a path, but he couldn't just knock everyone around him down, right?

"Just ask her to go." Xu Qinglang pointed to the female corpse, "She's as strong as an ox, she can help me hold back a wave."

The female corpse frowned, preparing to retort.

"Don't you want to go out for a walk?" Xu Qinglang raised his eyebrows.

The words at the female corpse's lips immediately swallowed back down, and for a moment, she smiled like a flower.

She hadn't left the bookstore for a single step these days.

There was no way, Zhou Ze could only nod in agreement. He didn't feel comfortable letting the female corpse run out alone. Don't let her current guise as a caring handmaiden fool you, because people's hearts are separated by stomachs, what more a zombie without a "heart"?

Zhou Ze even believed that if one day his abilities disappeared, the first person to eat his flesh and blood would probably be this female corpse who was currently fawning over him.

The three of them took a taxi to the Temple of Literature. It would be an exaggeration to say that there were mountains and seas of people outside the Temple of Literature, but it was surrounded by three layers inside and three layers outside.

Ah, the hearts of parents everywhere are the same.

Xu Qinglang met up with his relative's couple outside the Temple of Literature. They were two middle-aged people who looked very honest and kind.

Their son, of course, didn't come. Everyone was here to fight for a good omen, but no one was really mindless enough to believe that relying on this could really get them into college. Basically, you couldn't see anyone of student age on the scene; they should all be at home studying and stuff.

The Tongcheng Temple of Literature "cleans its doors" after the New Year. As for why it's not done before the New Year, it's probably because the master and sages in the Temple of Literature felt that competing for incense with those demons and monsters during the New Year would be demeaning to their status.

It was better to do it after the New Year,

so that they could see that your doors are deserted, while here I have a cloud of believers, which shows my status.

As for the specific reasons and how it is in other parts of the country, Zhou Ze didn't know. The meaning of customs is just inexplicable rules. Who can say for sure?

Just like the incident involving a father-in-law and his daughter-in-law at a wedding in a city next to Tongcheng that has been raging on the internet recently, they can even attribute it to so-called customs. There's even less reason to talk about that.

With a "creak,"

the mahogany door was opened.

Instantly, the parents waiting outside transformed into "ferocious beasts" and rushed into the Temple of Literature.

The female corpse took the lead, with Xu Qinglang and his pair of relatives following closely behind, like Zhao Zilong charging into the enemy formation at Changban Slope.

Zhou Ze didn't join in the fun. He just squatted on the curb outside the door, smoking a cigarette.

As he smoked, Zhou Ze was surprised to find that the cigarette butt in his hand had suddenly gone out.

Zhou Ze relit it, but the next one he smoked suddenly became tasteless.

"Hehe." Zhou Ze dropped the cigarette butt and looked around. He knew that his cigarette had been offered as incense.

Not eating pure incense, not caring about offerings,

but just for this one puff of mortal smoke,

who knows what kind of demon or monster it is.

Zhou Ze naturally didn't have the anger of "Damn, how dare you steal my cigarette!" A month ago, he was still an illegal immigrant, and he only became a temporary worker two weeks later.

He didn't have the domineering aura of "when a dog is promoted to heaven" or "I own this road."

"Clang!"

A gong sounded,

sounding so abrupt and so ear-piercing on this night.

Zhou Ze followed the sound and looked over.

In the flowerbed behind the Temple of Literature, a short, dwarfish old man came out. The old man was holding a gong in his hand, with a cigarette in his mouth, hopping and skipping as he walked out.

The old man even glanced at Zhou Ze, opened his mouth, and exhaled a smoke ring, as if to say thank you for the cigarette.

Zhou Ze also laughed,

and lit all the remaining cigarettes in his hand, placing them one by one on the ground, leaving only one for himself.

Soon, the cigarettes placed on the ground went out. The dwarf old man hopped even more happily, seeming to find this helpful junior more and more pleasing. His small pockets were bulging; they should be full of cigarettes.

The dwarf old man led the way with his gong,

and behind him, a group of people slowly followed.

Not the parents who had squeezed into the Temple of Literature just now,

but a group of people in bizarre costumes.

The first few, wearing feather fans and turbans, staggered as they walked, their faces ashen, following the old man's steps slowly forward.

After them were two people with greasy pigtails, their eyes dull, still following the old man forward.

After that, the clothing of the people began to become more and more modern. The last few were even wearing modern clothes, no different from ordinary high school students.

However, some of them had pale green faces, and some had fractured skulls.

Out of professional habit, Zhou Ze quickly analyzed that the last few students had either died from poisoning or from jumping off a building.

There was one that Zhou Ze found a bit familiar. It seemed like he had seen his photo when browsing the news a few years ago. He had committed suicide by jumping off a building because of a poor performance on a mock exam, under the pressure.

The dwarf old man walked forward while banging on the gong, and the group of "scholars and students" behind him followed them like puppets on strings.

They were like a parade,

circling around the Temple of Literature.

And the nearby pedestrians,

except for Zhou Ze, no one could see them.

"Bang!"

A gong sounded,

"Living in peace doesn't require building high towers; books contain houses of gold!" the dwarf old man shouted in a hoarse voice.

"Bang!"

Another gong sounded,

"Marrying a wife doesn't require regretting the lack of a good matchmaker; books contain faces of jade!"

The dwarf old man continued to shout.

After walking around the Temple of Literature three times,

this bizarre procession slowly disappeared.

After a short while,

the parents who had finished burning incense began to walk out of the Temple of Literature.

They had satisfaction on their faces,

and anticipation,

and the earnest hope that their children would become dragons.