Chapter 1

There was no wind, but the doors and windows of the old house slammed shut. Even the flashlight's beam turned a dismal green. The big mole man swayed, turned his face, and stared straight at the pillar with empty eye sockets.

This time, Zhuzi was genuinely terrified. He took a step back instinctively and stepped on a severed hand behind him. The severed hand had a tattoo like a deity statue; it was the hand of a coffin lifter.

A chilling wind swept through the room. Zhuzi seemed to see something particularly horrifying, shouting, "Don't come over!" and desperately hiding behind me.

A red rope snaked out from the east room, wrapped around me, and lashed Zhuzi's face with a snap. Zhuzi screamed, covered his face, knelt on the ground, and began to kowtow incessantly.

But his repentance didn't earn him the forgiveness of the house's ghosts. More wounds quickly appeared on his body.

Zhuzi was also a ruthless man. Realizing that kowtowing and begging were useless, he dusted off his pants and stood up. He flung out talismans and began to fight the yin spirits in the room, but there were six or seven of them in the old house. Zhuzi was no match for them at all.

Zhuzi cursed angrily, "Wan Qian, what the hell are you here for? These ghosts are attacking me, and you're just watching the show? You took my *Corpse Sutra* for nothing. Aren't you afraid of owing me karma?"

I crossed my arms and wore an expression of watching a play. "I will definitely do what I promised you. But you're not in mortal danger, and you haven't suffered any permanent damage. Why should I rush to help? I won't miss anything I'm supposed to do, but I will never interfere with things that aren't my business."

"Bastard! I misjudged you."

Zhuzi cursed hatefully, but he was already having a hard time dealing with the gang of evil spirits in the room. How could he have the energy to do anything to me? At first, Zhuzi's mouth could still be used to curse me, but later on, his mouth was busy screaming, and he couldn't bother to curse me anymore.

Fortunately, this area was full of abandoned old houses. Otherwise, with this ghostly wailing, and the fact that several people had died in the village recently, the timid villagers would be scared out of their wits.

Seeing that Zhuzi had screamed enough, I grabbed two handfuls of grass from behind the shrine. This old house was built of adobe and leaked rain all year round, so grass had grown inside. It was just that the light inside the room wasn't as good as outside, so the grass was a little yellow, not as lush as the grass outside. However, this grass was perfect for me.

I put my years of paper-crafting skills to use and quickly made a small person out of grass. Then I pulled a yellow paper from my pocket and stuck it on the straw man. I raised my pen and shouted to Zhuzi, "Zhuzi, tell me your birth date and time. I'll make you a substitute."

Of course, Zhuzi knew what a substitute was for. The way yin spirits recognize people is different from the way living people do. They don't use their eyes to see or their ears to hear. They rely on the aura on a person's body. Therefore, ghosts are easier to deceive than people. Just find something shaped like a person, write the name and birthdate on it, and then put some hair, nails, blood, etc. on it. That way, the ghosts won't be able to tell the difference between the real and the fake. Then, stick an invisibility talisman on the real person, and the ghosts will completely mistake the fake for the real thing.

Zhuzi's throat had been tortured until his voice had changed. He quickly gave his birthdate and time. However, when I asked him for his full name, Zhuzi hesitated. He glared at me, gnashing his teeth, wishing he could tear me apart.

I looked at him with amusement. "A substitute must have a name written on it. Without a name, you can't fool the ghosts. Even if my *dao* is high, it's the same. What is your name, Zhuzi? Zhang Qizhuzi? Wang Bazhuzi? Chen Shizhuzi?"

I wasn't in a hurry. I sat leisurely by the side and talked nonsense. Zhuzi's eyes were about to pop out of his head, and every time I guessed the wrong name, the red rawhide rope would whip Zhuzi, as if all these names had offended the owner of the rope.

Zhuzi was quite resilient. He resolutely refused to say his full name, even when the rope whipped him until he vomited blood.

He wasn't in a hurry, so why should I be in a hurry? I crossed my legs and sat next to him, saying to the other end of the rope, "Big Brother Ghost, take it easy. I promised to protect him from permanent damage. I have to keep my word. You can deal with him, but you better control the extent of the damage."

After speaking, I looked at Zhuzi, who was still persisting, and pretended to suddenly realize, "Oh, that's right. It's a ghost hitting you now, not a person. He can't understand what I'm saying at all. My bad, my bad."

Then, I translated it again in ghost language. No one on the other end of the rope responded to me, but the force of the rope was obviously better controlled.

Zhuzi spat out the blood in his mouth, snorted coldly, and actually grinned. "Whatever, you just want to deal with me, right? You just want to vent your anger, right? Compared to life and death, what does this count for? Anyway, you said you would save my life, not only save my life, but also make sure the injuries on my body can be healed. Then what do I have to be afraid of? Isn't it just suffering a little?

I'm going all out. Come on, do whatever you want. But don't forget one thing. You are indeed dead. I can't do anything to you dead ghosts. But you still have family, wives, children, and the elderly. What you are inflicting on me now, I will make them repay, and repay twice as much.

I want to see, are you ruthless, or am I ruthless?"

This kid Zhuzi really had an imposing aura. Plus, he was covered in blood and had a ferocious look on his face, he actually intimidated the wronged souls.

Seeing this scene, I immediately became unhappy. I quickly muttered a bunch of ghost words, and the wronged souls were immediately encouraged by me again and began to enthusiastically deal with Zhuzi.

Now, Zhuzi couldn't help but curse. While greeting my ancestors for eighteen generations, he asked me who the hell hired me, and which side I was on to help?

I very calmly told him that there was only a transaction between him and me, not friendship. I would indeed do what I promised him, but other than that, it would depend on my mood, and I would not treat him with extra kindness just because he hired me.

Then, I asked him again, what was his full name? Was he really called Zhuzi?

Zhuzi still didn't say, and I still watched the show.

When it was almost dawn, the wronged souls were no longer satisfied with petty fights and finally began to use their ultimate moves. They pulled off Zhuzi's pants and began to focus on Zhuzi's third leg. Zhuzi's howling immediately became different. At first glance, one couldn't tell whether he was in pain or happiness.

As the wronged souls' methods escalated, Zhuzi's anger naturally escalated as well. He roared and warned me that this would cause him permanent damage and make him lose the ability to have children.

I told him not to worry. Even if his thing was broken into three pieces, it wouldn't matter. My family has an elixir immortal who can fix it for him.

Zhuzi persisted for another three minutes, and finally compromised. He roared at me:

"I'm not Zhuzi, I'm Zhao Tian. I'm the bastard who can't control his lower body. I slept with the female corpse, I caused the trouble, I killed Zhao Jianjun, I'm a bastard, I'm heinous, are you satisfied now?"

I glanced at him and nodded leisurely, "Satisfied."

Then, a rooster crowed outside, and it was dawn.