While speaking, he pointed behind him at Tian Guoqiang and the others, his tiny eyes—eyes that begged to be punched, eyes that reeked of sleaze—beaming with smug satisfaction.

Seeing this, Tian Guoqiang and the rest flushed crimson.

If they hadn't been counting on some free sunflower seeds, they might have lunged forward and smashed this scoundrel with a cooking pot.

“Heh-heh.” Chen the Big Head was long accustomed to Young Master Liu’s personality and paid it no mind.

He just lowered his head and quietly asked, “Kid, tell your Uncle Chen, how much did you win?” “Three dollars!” Young Master Liu whispered back.

“Damn, impressive! You’ve got the spirit of your Uncle Chen back in the day.

Just for that, I’ll give you a twenty percent discount on seeds.

That’ll be only one dollar and ten cents!” Chen the Big Head declared with considerable generosity.

“Heh heh, Uncle is the best!” Young Master Liu thanked him quickly, but muttered inwardly, Pah! Stingy old coot, tight-fisted bastard.

What good is twenty percent off? Why not just hand me a few bags to crack open? Having his kindness repaid with an insult, if the grinning Chen the Big Head knew what was being thought, he’d probably batter his giant skull against the Liu family ancestral hall! Taking the fragrant sunflower seeds and candies, Young Master Liu swiftly pulled out a large handful of change from his pocket.

He spat on his palm, counted it out, and then offered a few small bills to Chen the Big Head.

“Count it, is it enough?” Chen the Big Head happily reached out to accept the first transaction of the day, but when his sharp pupils glanced at the few banknotes in Liu’s hand, they visibly contracted.

The smile on his face vanished, replaced by seven parts astonishment laced with three parts simmering anger.

Then, his gaze locked onto the wad of money still held by Young Master Liu.

“What’s wrong?” Young Master Liu looked puzzled.

He couldn't fathom why Chen the Big Head had suddenly made such a face.

Was he sick, or having a seizure? Chen the Big Head paused for a moment, then picked out a few bills from the loose change, shook them in front of Young Master Liu’s face, and pushed the rest back.

“I don’t want these ones.” “Why not?” Young Master Liu was utterly bewildered.

Damn, what game is this old fellow playing? “Just look for yourself!” Chen the Big Head’s face darkened, and he glared at Young Master Liu.

“Look at what?” “Hey, Young Master Gou, you…” Gou Dan, who was closest to him, suddenly shouted, pointing at the remaining stack of paper money in Young Master Liu’s hand, his eyes wide with surprise.

Following the direction of his finger, everyone looked over in unison.

When they saw the bundle of cash, they all gasped.

But Liu himself was a bit clueless.

“Crap, why are you pulling out a wad of dead men’s money in broad daylight? It’s eerie at first glance,” Xiao Mazi nudged Young Master Liu and cursed.

“What? Dead men’s money? This is all the private money I won last night, where’s the dead men’s money?” Young Master Liu looked down at the money in his hand, gasped, and immediately threw it onto the ground, hopping backward and dodging away repeatedly.

Lying scattered on the dirt were several crudely printed banknotes, but instead of a great leader’s portrait, they bore the face of Yama, the King of Hell, with a line of tiny script underneath: Underworld Bank.

Spirit money—it really was spirit money! The four looked at each other, and the atmosphere, which had finally eased up, froze solid in an instant.

But the shop owner, Chen the Big Head, stood there, letting out a cold snicker.

He was now completely convinced that these four rascals, who never did an honest day’s work, had ganged up to play a trick on him.

After a long moment, Tian Guoqiang stepped forward to break the tension: “Uncle Chen, this joke of yours has gone too far, hasn’t it? It’s not easy for Uncle Chen to run a shop, why are you trying to fool him with ghost money?” “I… I really didn’t! Don’t you guys even believe me?” Young Master Liu’s face was flushed crimson, the veins in his neck bulging, clearly showing he was quite agitated.

He wanted to defend himself, but as he opened his mouth, he simply couldn't articulate the cause or effect.

To be precise, at this point, even he hadn’t figured out how his proper cash had turned into garish spirit money after spending a night tucked in his pocket.

Tian Guoqiang, being the eldest among the four, and having been influenced by his village chief father, possessed a certain skill in reading people.

Seeing Liu’s expression was definitely not fake, he knew for certain there had been a slip-up somewhere.

So, he quickly shot a look to the grumbling Gou Dan and Xiao Mazi, signaling them to keep quiet.

Then, plastering on a smile, he apologized to shop owner Chen the Big Head, offering to make up the missing amount out of his own pocket.

Having taken the money and accepted the apology, the already somewhat frustrated Chen the Big Head had no grounds to press the issue further; after all, it’s hard to hit someone who’s smiling sweetly.

“Young Master Gou, were you perhaps too tense today? Did you accidentally pull out a bill like that?” After settling the matter, Tian Guoqiang pulled Young Master Liu aside and patted his shoulder.

“Impossible.

While I did go burn offerings for our ancestral graves, it was just plain paper and gold ingots, no spirit money.

Besides, why would I go out of my way to carry such unlucky stuff in my bosom?” Young Master Liu argued.

“Alright, stop overthinking it.

It’s over now,” Tian Guoqiang said, attempting to brush the topic aside with a soothing tone.

“But you have to believe me!” “Okay, okay, I believe you, I believe you…” Tian Guoqiang nodded.

“But…” Just as the word sprang from his mouth, Young Master Liu suddenly remembered something, and a tendril of icy coldness snaked up his spine.

Cold sweat trickled down his skin, plastering his simple cloth shirt to his body.

“Young Master Gou! What’s wrong? Why does your face look so awful?” At this moment, Young Master Liu’s complexion could truly be described as white as funeral paper—deathly pale, completely devoid of color, which naturally worried Tian Guoqiang.

“Could it be, could it be…” Young Master Liu hadn’t heard a word Tian Guoqiang said, just trembling, repeating the syllables under his breath, finally covering his face with both hands, muttering in a voice barely audible even to himself: “That child who bought the lantern last night—was he really a ghost? A real ghost?” “Brother, buy a lantern.” “Wuwuwu…” “Brother, buy a lantern.” The scenes from his journey home last night flashed vividly, playing repeatedly in his mind like the large reels of a cinema—the first time, the second, the third, the fourth… This feeling wasn't merely physiological fear; it was a shudder originating from the deepest recesses of his soul! “Brother won’t buy a lantern.

If you don’t tell me where your home is, I’m leaving.” “Um, okay then! Over there.” Over there, where was ‘over there’? The line of dialogue got stuck, and Young Master Liu’s fingers slowly parted, revealing a gap.

Following his memory, tracing the direction he had been standing and the direction the little boy had pointed, he slowly opened his eyes.

That… how could there be residents on that slope? Looking at the hazy outline not far away, Young Master Liu felt like crying.

That was the goddamn mass grave! Realizing this, Young Master Liu froze completely.

Ten seconds later, a distinct ge-ge-ge sound suddenly erupted.

Tian Guoqiang was feeling puzzled, wondering what new trick the kid was up to.

Then he saw Young Master Liu slowly move his hands away from his face, and—lift his head.

Tian Guoqiang, Gou Dan, and Xiao Mazi jumped up in fright.

Young Master Liu’s brow was furrowed into the character for ‘Chuan’ (), his lips curled unnaturally upward, looking halfway between a smile and a cry.

And that ge-ge-ge sound was coming from his mouth—his upper and lower teeth chattering violently.

Then, in a voice on the verge of tears, he said: “Qiangzi, I’ve been possessed.”