Choose? Choose what? The balance of choices is completely off!
Finding a substitute? Would a ghostly government official need to capture someone as a substitute?
The eerie atmosphere created by the driver was completely shattered by his own dazed expression. Zhou Huiqin froze for two seconds before reacting, wiping away her tears as she moved towards Lan He, babbling incoherently, “Comrade, save me!”
“What the @#$%!” The driver opened his mouth but didn’t know what to curse. He had never seen so many meddlesome ghostly officials before. He immediately turned to jump out the window.
But Lan He was faster, swinging the chain accurately around the driver’s ankle and pulling him back. The guy slid backwards, landing on the ground. Lan He stepped on his hunchback, tying a binding knot, “Still want to run?”
“Ah! Ah!! My back!” The driver screamed miserably.
“Get up.” Lan He tugged the chain.
“Hiss… Huff…” The driver got up with a dusty face. Being a hunchback, he was even shorter. He looked up at Lan He’s hat, forced a flattering smile, and exclaimed to Zhou Huiqin’s great surprise at the quick change in attitude, “Master Lai, I’ve long heard of your great name. I really didn’t mean it, I didn’t know it was you… Master Lai, please show mercy!”
“You know me?” Lan He said amusedly, thinking that news really spread fast in the underworld. “Where did you steal the stuff from?”
This set of paper offerings, some of which were clearly custom-made, cost several thousand yuan based on the quality and quantity. It was not a small amount. Funeral items were often urgently needed.
Lan He had seen a lot of this while following his grandfather in his youth. When people came to order these things, they were already in a sorrowful mood. Knowing they were stolen would make them even more upset. For craftsmen, earning a bit of money was not easy either.
Putting himself in their shoes, Lan He felt that the owner must be anxious, so he asked about the specifics of the stolen items right away.
The hunchbacked ghost scratched his head, as if really trying to remember, but unfortunately had no result, nervously saying, “Forgot, forgot, didn’t look carefully, only remember one word.”
“What word?”
“Yun something, or something Yun, in the east district.”
Lan He: “…What difference does it make if you didn’t say anything?”
Zhou Huiqin blurted out, “How come?”
After speaking, she wondered if she was being too thoughtless; after all, this was still a ghost official.
But the righteous ghost official didn’t mind her, casually explaining, “In the funeral industry, especially old shops, they like to add the word “yun” in their names, just like traditional Chinese medicine shops often have “hall” in their names.”
Zhou Huiqin: “…” Just remembering the word “yun” is indeed useless.
Lan He pressed him further for more specific details. The driver thought for a moment and said it was in the east district, seemingly on Qinglong Street.
“Qinglong Street?” Lan He recalled, “Sounds familiar.”
Beijing was too big, and being an outsider, he couldn’t immediately remember why it sounded familiar.
But Zhou Huiqin weakly said, “I know, I’ve been there for business. Qinglong Street is also called Dead Man’s Street…”
Lan He: “…”
He remembered! He initially thought that this guy only recalling the shop had the word “cloud” in its name was bad enough. It turned out the worst part was that the shop was located on Qinglong Street, the famous Dead Man’s Street in Beijing.
Qinglong Street was at least a kilometer long, filled with funeral businesses. Can you guess how many shops there have “yun” in their names?
And the signs there were all uniformly made, enough to confuse even ghosts.
Lan He was so angry he laughed, pointing at the driver, “You… you…”
The driver sheepishly admitted his mistake, “Yes, yes, I was careless. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have died so young. I just can’t change my ways even in death!”
Lan He: “…”
The hunchback ghost had said it all, even managing to choke him up.
But the items had to be returned. Lan He said, “You will now go back and search the street for it… But first, drive the car to a convenient spot and let the girl off!”
The driver obediently complied, driving back to the crossroads and returning to the regular road before parking.
“Get off,” Lan He said to Zhou Huiqin.
Zhou Huiqin was still somewhat fearful. Seeing this, Lan He helped her. Her legs were still weak when she got off the steps, almost stumbling.
Although Lan He’s hands were still cold and his aura still eerie, Zhou Huiqin was no longer afraid of him. This was partly due to their interaction and partly because she was emotionally exhausted and couldn’t cry anymore.
Once off the car, Zhou Huiqin looked back at the bowed “people” in the vehicle. Uneasily, she mimicked the hunchback ghost’s address, “Master Lai? Will I encounter his bus again in the future? I take the 414 route every day…”
She was afraid that she might accidentally get on this bus again, and there wouldn’t always be a ghost official to save her.
“You won’t.” The strange ghost official glanced at her, “After it’s burned, this bus will never appear again.”
Oh, it’s going to be burned…
It took Zhou Huiqin a few seconds to understand this, tremblingly saying, “this is also made of paper?!”
Lan He nodded. Burning luxury cars was common, but burning buses was rare; it must have been custom-made.
It probably had special significance, like being a tribute to a profession the person had while alive, or as a personal hobby or regret. Similar to how some people custom-make airplanes to wish for the return of a loved one’s soul who passed away far away.
But the route number should be written as 000, and this bus, in Lan He’s eyes, was indeed the 000 route bus. The girl saw it as the 414 route because her eyes were deceived.
Lan He intended to leave, but noticing Zhou Huiqin’s leg injury from earlier, which looked quite bad, he crouched down. He used a bit of Hu 79’s nail, extending a furry paw and carefully wrapping the nail within the pad, rubbing her knee a few times.
Zhou Huiqin felt as though something warm and furry was rubbing her leg. Before she could see what it was, the ghost official stood up, and her leg stopped bleeding and didn’t hurt anymore.
After being brushed by the furry thing, her heart felt warm, and the surrounding darkness wasn’t as frightening.
The underworld has true feelings, the underworld has great love.
Zhou Huiqin felt touched and said to the underworld emissary, “My name is Zhou…”
“Wait.” The emissary said seriously, “Don’t tell me. Never tell any underworld creature your name, not even other emissaries.”
Zhou Huiqin stammered, “Can you tell me your name? I just want to thank you, maybe burn some paper for you, no, should I burn a thank-you letter to the underworld…”
Lan He couldn’t help but laugh, “No need, it was just a small effort. You should go back now, head in that direction and don’t look back.”
He gave Zhou Huiqin a push on her back. She stumbled a few steps, wanting to look back at him, but remembered his instruction not to. Clenching her hands, she walked forward with big steps, “Okay… thank you!”
She walked past the intersection and saw a familiar bus stop. At that moment, a Route 414 bus just happened to stop at the platform. The driver had a familiar face, and several late-night office workers on the bus were complaining about their bosses. The human world atmosphere suddenly hit her.
She’s back…
Zhou Huiqin boarded the bus, scanned her code, and sat down. Only then did she feel her legs aching. The streetlights outside the window were bright, and in a flash, everything seemed like a lifetime ago. Only the no-longer-bleeding wound on her knee reminded her that the emissary with “Since I’m Here” written on his hat was real.
…
Wang Lili had another dream. It was the familiar feeling, the familiar emissary. This time, the emissary brought along a hunchback with a large lump on his neck and said to him, “Officer Wang, sorry to trouble you again.”
“No problem, no problem! What can I do for you?” Actually, Wang Lili was quite happy. He had neatly handled the last case and had been wondering if there would be a second time.
According to the conventions of online novels, he should now become partners with the emissary, shuttling between the underworld and the living world, solving cases from small to large, interrogating people by day and ghosts by night, becoming the modern Bao Zheng of New China… Sorry, he had already written the script. He even drew illustrations during boring meetings.
Wang Lili looked at the hunchback ghost and started to ponder, “Does he have some wrongful case?”
So, he came to me to solve the case? Although I’m not a criminal police officer, if there’s a need, I can be!
“No.” Lan He said, “It’s like this. This guy stole a large batch of paper crafts. I caught him, but he doesn’t remember which paper shop it was from. We searched the funeral street for a long time but couldn’t recognize it. He only remembers a “Yun” character. The total value of the paper crafts is several thousand yuan in human currency. So, can you help find the owner and return them?”
Wang Lili was initially disappointed, then thought, there’s no big case right from the start. He immediately nodded vigorously, familiar with the process, “Okay, leave this to me! I’ll go to the funeral street tomorrow to investigate!”
“By the way,” Lan He said shyly, “Can I borrow some more paper?”
The paper he borrowed last time was all used up. He found it very useful and couldn’t help but ask again. After all, Beijing was indeed becoming more chaotic. Even if he didn’t walk the emissary path often, he might really need these for emergencies for a while.
Wang Lili didn’t think much and immediately said, “No problem! Take as much as you need!”
We’re good partners after all, he shyly added in his heart.
“Okay, we’ll leave the paper crafts outside the police station. Please help find the owner.” After saying this, Lan He bid farewell. Before leaving, he went to tear out some paper from a notebook.
Last time, he had emptied Wang Lili’s notebook. There was a new one now, with not many pages written. As Lan He flipped through it, he accidentally saw some doodles of chibi characters beside the meeting notes.
Some wore emissary uniforms, some wore police uniforms, and there were round ghosts… Was he recording his dreams? The officer’s drawing skills were pretty good.
Lan He didn’t think much, tore off the paper, and then opened the drawer…
The next day, Wang Lili woke up from the dream, immediately jumped up and ran to the window. The dormitory was just opposite the police station, and sure enough, there was a pile of paper crafts at the entrance. The guards were pointing at it, probably finding it quite strange.
He couldn’t wait to rush downstairs and say, “Don’t touch anything, I’ll handle this case!” He quickly washed up and checked the notebook on his desk. As expected, it was empty. He opened the drawer, and found that the notebook inside was also just a cover.
Wang Lili: “…”
Never mind, Wang Lili ran out and went to the office to get a new notebook. The office lady said helplessly, “Xiao Wang, have you already used it up? What on earth are you writing? Even if you were plastering walls, you wouldn’t run out this fast!”
Wang Lili: “You don’t understand! It’s very important!”
.
After meeting with Officer Wang, Lan He felt that the entire night had been wasted. Feeling annoyed, he twisted Wang Lili’s paper into a rope and tied the hunchback ghost outside the police station with a ghost knot: “Detained! You will stay here and repent, cleansing your sinful heart, understand?”
“Ah?” The hunchback ghost trembled, “When will you come to release me?”
Lan He: “Hm, whenever you show good behavior, I’ll come to release you.”
Due to the delay that night, Lan He was only able to continue to Juehui Temple the next night, hoping that nothing would go wrong again. He really wasn’t out patrolling!
From a distance, Lan He saw many lonely souls and wild ghosts running in one direction. He had put away his uniform on the way, so they weren’t running because of him. Could Juehui Temple be holding a transcendence ritual again?
Temples and Taoist abbeys, especially those known for their efficacy, always had many wandering ghosts hoping to catch a bit of the transcendence ceremony or maybe get some offerings.
Thinking this, Lan He floated towards Juehui Temple. He didn’t see Xiao Song in the courtyard where they met last time. Since the temple was large, Xiao Song might be somewhere else, so Lan He wandered around.
Floating over the courtyard wall, he felt a chill down his spine. Looking down, he saw a group of monks preaching. The elder monk in the center looked up; it was Master Budong.
“…” Lan He slowly lowered himself inch by inch.
“Abbot, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” If one looked closely, they would see a hint of amusement in the old monk’s eyes as he looked away.
Lan He wasn’t familiar with the temple, so after searching for a long time, he finally found Song Futan outside the small gate of the temple. He was being blocked by a female ghost, standing there with his arms crossed, expressionless.
The female ghost was performing energetically, sometimes sticking her tongue out to her feet, sometimes growing her hair long enough to encircle the temple. Yet, he seemed oblivious.
Her cultivation level was still too low to draw Song Futan’s soul out, so she tried to scare him, creating many horrific illusions, using every horror movie she had seen in her life, but he remained indifferent.
Frustrated, she gnawed her teeth, lifted her coat to show a bit of her shoulder, and before she could say anything, he finally reacted: he frowned, looking disgusted.
The female ghost rolled her eyes furiously, wanting to scratch Song Futan, but feared the Buddhist light around him. She restrained her anger and brought out a large pile of cash: “So what exactly do you like?”
She was so angry that her tongue involuntarily hung out.
“Hey, hey, what’s going on here?” Lan He walked over and pulled her clothes back, “Offering a large sum for a child?”
Female ghost: “…………”
He’s here.
In an instant, the ice melted and snow thawed. When Song Futao saw Lan He, his expression finally changed, feeling as if the starlight had become even brighter.
The female ghost looked at him resentfully, noticing that even before the ghost spoke, his gaze had softened significantly, even though his face wasn’t visible. “What, is his deception more sophisticated?”
Lan He walked up and poked the cash in the female ghost’s hand, and it turned to nothing. “Friendly reminder from the Underworld, usually these kinds of flyers are scams.”
Since he wasn’t in uniform, the female ghost stared at him, hesitating about his identity. Lan He revealed a bit of the chain on his wrist, and the female ghost stopped hesitating, lifted her tongue, and ran away frantically.
“This should be a minor scene for you, right?” Lan He said to Song Futao.
“It’s not the worst situation,” Song Futao smiled. “Are you hungry?”
Lan He touched his stomach and said modestly, “I’m not particularly hungry, but if I have to eat something now, I can manage.”
“I have a dish of lotus root sandwiches. I’ll take you to eat,” Song Futao said. Since the night Xiao Lai came to Juehui Temple, he would leave a dish for Xiao Lai every night. If Xiao Lai didn’t come, he would eat it himself.
Lan He didn’t know this. He just thought it was another late-night snack for his supposed cousin and was quite happy, “Sure!”
Since it was a temple dish, the lotus root sandwiches had no meat but some pumpkin, coated in batter and fried until crispy and delicious.
Temple cuisine is indeed a major genre of Chinese cuisine, with famous dishes like Luohan Vegetarian Feast and Dinghu Top Vegetarian. Even the famous Wensi Tofu was originally created by the monk Wensi.
Song Futao casually chatted about the history of Juehui Temple’s vegetarian cuisine. Because it was located in Beijing and had once been a royal sacrificial temple, its vegetarian dishes not only served monks but also entertained royals and generous donors. Now, many tourists were interested in tasting the dishes, with years of refined culinary skills.
While munching on the lotus root sandwiches, Lan He suddenly asked Song Futao, “Do you know where their souls are?”
Song Futao was stunned, not understanding for a moment, “…Lengyan or salt?”
“You’re so funny. Neither,” Lan He inhaled quickly and then said, “Right here, I’ve absorbed them.”
Song Futao: “…”
…This is too cute.
Lan He laughed heartily, seeing that Xiao Song was speechless. Being very tired in the crew, meeting ghosts made him a bit scared yet not entirely fearful. Joking with Xiao Song was quite relaxing.
He continued eating heartily. After finishing the lotus root sandwiches, he started on the fruit, munching and saying, “I heard the first incense at many temples is very valuable.”
The saying “don’t talk while eating or sleeping” is a fine tradition passed down in China, but for the two of them, one could talk without any hindrance while eating, and the other could talk even when his soul left his body during sleep, completely contrary to tradition.
Song Futao said, “Yes, someone once wanted to do business with Master Budong, assisting him in auctioning off the first incense on New Year’s Day with a starting price of five million, but Master Budong refused.”
“Such integrity!” Lan He praised, “Although Juehui Temple surely isn’t short of money, Master Budong’s indifference to temptation is truly commendable!”
Song Futao’s eyes gleamed with amusement. Praising Master Budong as both a strong man and unyielding, he had heard it many times.
Lan He, almost done eating, suddenly thought of something and asked, “Why haven’t I heard the chanting from the ritual?”
Song Futao: “There’s no ritual today.”
“Ah, really?” Lan He ate a kumquat and said, “When I came, I saw many lonely souls and wild ghosts heading this way. If there’s no transcendence ritual, could it be a market fair?”
Song Futao thought for a moment and said, “Maybe they’re going to watch a ghost play—like the opera lovers we met before. They seem to be performing nearby, including the play “Man Hanging,” which supposedly showcases all seventy-two forms of hanging.”
Those opera-loving ghosts were always wandering around, forming amateur opera troupes. Song Futao had encountered them before. It made sense for them to perform in a place with many ghosts.
Lan He was shocked and slowly raised his head, “Are there really seventy-two ways to hang oneself? What are they performing that for!”
“No, it’s a part of Mulian Opera’s acrobatics,” Song Futao was surprised that Xiao Lai didn’t know this. Mulian Opera was said to attract ghosts. However, he thought perhaps the Eastern Peak Underworld didn’t follow this tradition, considering Mulian was a monk. “Mulian Opera has a rich content, mainly about the monk Mulian saving his mother. It also includes many folk stories and short plays, with hundreds of ghost plays in total.”
They had previously encountered a Sichuan opera troupe performing the ritual of Lingguan sweeping the stage, fearing that performing too many ghost plays would attract ghosts. Ghosts do love excitement.
The play “Man Hanging” was actually a martial arts performance, an aerial acrobatic show using two cloth strips to hang the body in various postures. It was said there used to be seventy-two forms, but now, only a few performers could manage ten or twenty.
However, these were dead ghosts, some of whom might have died young, preserving the tradition. Many opera troupes had made a living in Beijing over the years.
“I was ignorant. I thought they were going to have hanging ghosts perform how they died… That would be too heartbreaking.” Lan He was very interested, “Let’s go and see! They do aerial acrobatics, and it wouldn’t take much for them to float up… Wait, do you want to go? With so many ghosts, won’t it bother you?”
Song Futao replied, “It won’t.”
If he were in a bad mood, even sitting in the temple watching the scenery wouldn’t help. But being with an interesting ghost and watching Mulian Opera could be enjoyable.
They left Juehui Temple and walked west for a few hundred meters until they saw a large banyan tree with a simple stage beneath it. It was the same setup they had seen in the suburbs, surrounded by ghostly shadows all watching the play.
The current performance was nearing its end. Two cloth strips hung from above, and the actor used them to flip and perform acrobatics, indeed an aerial show with rich movements like “Child Worships the Moon” and “Spider Spins Silk.” Despite the ghosts not being entirely human-shaped, performing so many poses required skill.
Lan He stood at the back, applauding along with the other ghosts.
After the main act, a new one started. Several ghost actors came on stage, and since it was Mulian Opera, it was naturally another ghost play. One wore a paper hat resembling an underworld emissary’s, but without the words, it couldn’t mimic a real emissary’s uniform.
If it were Sichuan opera, Lan He might understand a bit, but he couldn’t tell which version of Mulian Opera this was—many operas had this play, and he couldn’t understand the dialect at all. But the singing was impressive, performed with great enthusiasm and large movements, including spear tricks, offering plenty of spectacle.
The actor playing the underworld emissary, with a painted face, appeared tall, powerful, and full of presence. Pointing at another actor in a green costume, he sang a long passage in a high-pitched, resonant voice, full of emotion and righteous indignation.
Even though Lan He couldn’t understand the words, he could tell the singing was excellent. The actor then impressively kicked the other actor, who somersaulted several times before stabilizing, gripping his long fork tightly.
The audience cheered, and Lan He clapped along, exchanging a glance with Song Futao. “Impressive, huh? His voice is so loud we can hear it clearly from here! Truly a classic handed down by our ancestors!” Lan He praised. “What’s this play called?”
Song Futao clapped a few times as well but didn’t know the name. With hundreds of short plays in Mulian Opera, he hadn’t seen them all.
A ghost in front of them heard and turned around, not realizing Song Futao was alive. Still immersed in the excitement, the ghost enthusiastically introduced, “This is a new production, today’s main show called “Emissary Comes to the Netherworld and Scolds Ghost Officials!””
Lan He: “???”
News travels fast in the underworld, and they produce artistic works quickly. They even performed a play about me?
Lan He hadn’t thought deeply, only feeling a slight pain in his heart: I’m still a third-rate nobody, never played a lead role since my debut. In the play adapted about me, “I” am the lead…
Author’s Note:
Lan He: Tears of confusion.