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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 15: Ghost Month Taboos
"What is the Soul Stone?" Fat Yi asked me, looking completely bewildered. I was equally confused.
"It's a big, dark, smooth stone. My grandfather gave it to me, and I'm giving it to you so you can place it in a cave with excellent feng shui to absorb the Spirit Energy from the earth."
Fat Yi shook his head, his brows furrowed. "I don't remember." I couldn't believe it; he seemed like someone who had lost their mind, unable to recall anything at all. He shook his head in response to every question.
"Do you remember going out with Grandpa and who you encountered or offended?"
Fat Yi shook his head again. "What happened to Grandpa?"
"Oh my god!" He didn't remember anything, so he probably didn't recall kicking me out either. What on earth happened to him last night? Did I accidentally make him lose his mind when I removed the curse?
I held up three fingers and asked Fat Yi, "How many is this?"
"Brother Qi, how could anyone not know this? Even a drooling child knows it's three!" I felt frustrated as I watched him act so seriously. Fine, let me pull out my trump card and see if he slips up.
"Fat Yi, did you get Aunt Ha from West Street pregnant? Are you planning to marry her?"
He burst into laughter, finally winking at me. "Brother Qi, stop joking! No matter what, I wouldn't look at her—she's smelly and fat! I deserve to find a beautiful girl for my... you know."
I was about to faint. His responses were coherent; he wasn't an idiot but genuinely couldn't remember what had happened before. Sigh! What a situation. "You must be having fun at the hospital or just have too much money to spend. If there's nothing else, get up and come back with me."
"Oh."
Just then, a nurse came in. "You can settle your bill and leave now." After saying that, she turned and walked away without wanting to linger for even a moment. Neither Fat Yi nor I were particularly attractive; I figured if Qin Jian were around, maybe the nurse would glance our way or say something before leaving.
"She's really tempting—big, bouncy, and has a nice backside. Perfect for having kids," he said while gesturing at his own chest, pressing the excess flesh together. If you didn't look closely, it almost resembled a woman's figure.
Fat Yi never changed; no matter how he transformed, he still had that same old habit of obsessively analyzing women.
I went to settle the bill—goodness gracious! In just one night, I'd racked up several hundred bucks. Fat Yi! I cursed inwardly as I noticed him glancing around instead of focusing on the task at hand, his eyes wandering toward the nurse's more sensitive areas.
I walked over and bumped him hard with my shoulder. It was only then that he snapped back to reality and followed me out of the hospital. To be honest, even as we exited, I was still preoccupied with the matter of Monkey Spirit. The Fatty was asking, "Brother Qi, how are we getting back?" but I didn't even hear him.
We headed toward the parking area, and the Fatty was not pleased. "You’re not seriously going to make me ride that junk motorcycle back, are you?"
"Should I rent you a Lamborghini to take you home instead?"
"Hey, no need for that. But do you think sharing that junk motorcycle will get us stopped by the police?"
That was indeed a concern; my old motorcycle hadn't passed inspection in years. Just coming to the hospital, I had taken quiet alleys with hardly anyone around. If I were to blatantly ride with a Fatty, it would be a big problem.
If they caught my motorcycle being unroadworthy, I'd face hefty fines. It seemed like I needed to scrap both of these old vehicles; otherwise, trouble was bound to come.
"How about you catch a ride while I pedal the junk motorcycle back?"
The Fatty reached out his hand, making an annoying gesture that really got on my nerves. I pulled out my wallet and took out a fifty-dollar bill. Before I could say anything, he snatched it from me. "Brother Qi, thanks!"
The Parking Attendant appeared in front of me to collect the parking fee. Watching the Fatty whistle as he walked away, I handed her a five-dollar bill. She took it without a word and quickly returned my change.
I smiled at her. "Auntie, just now..." She didn't listen and turned away after taking the money, leaving me with her indifferent back.
Sigh!
I pushed the junk motorcycle out with a grunt and climbed on. The rough noise of the engine drew an annoyed glance from the Parking Attendant. I rode away from the parking area, crossing the sidewalk into an alley, moving cautiously as I feared someone might suddenly appear from one of those crooked paths. As long as nothing went wrong, this old motorcycle wouldn't be scrapped.
With a sense of luck on my side, I continued forward, my fingers tightly gripping the brake lever, ready for an emergency stop at any moment. It was the fourth day of Ghost Month; remnants of burnt Hell Money and Ashes were scattered at intersections where diligent Cleaners had already swept away what shouldn't exist, leaving behind charred marks on the ground.
A text message notification finally halted my progress. I stopped and leaned the junk motorcycle against the wall, stepping into the shadows to see what was on my phone screen. I hoped it would be a message from Han Mi—even just a word would suffice.
Opening the message revealed it was from Chi Xinrong. A hint of disappointment washed over me, but I still opened it earnestly.
Chi Xinrong provided a list of passersby who had done nothing at Hongqiao Supermarket. They were not far from there, and this list had been obtained through Uncle's connections—a close friend at the police station.
These passersby were not having an easy time lately. They were haunted by nightmares and unable to sleep. As Ghost Festival approached, they burned large amounts of paper money at Yuyaya's incident site in hopes of seeking forgiveness.
The father of the night patrol officer is a patient of Chi Xinrong's uncle. The night patrol officer managed to capture images of the scene, of course, using his mobile phone. Now, as I opened the images he sent me, I saw amidst a sea of burning Hell Money, wisps of blue smoke swirling around. Not far from there, under a utility pole, an indistinct shadow emerged.
The shadow was faint in color, almost blending into the night; it was nearly impossible to discern without a careful look. Although my phone was a smartphone, it was an outdated model that I was reluctant to replace. With its worn-out screen, no matter how much I tried to zoom in or see clearly, it was all in vain.
Chi Xinrong really should have called or met me after returning from Riwa Store or Yujia Bay instead of sending me such a troublesome text message. Besides, my phone had long been due for an upgrade; I just couldn't bear to swipe my card for it.
My simple thought was that as long as I could make calls, I didn't have the luxury to pursue fashion. Unlike others, my life was destined to be filled with worries. Frugality is a traditional virtue of us Chinese; even if I didn’t upgrade my phone, the mobile market would still thrive with customers.
Cutting to the chase, I headed straight for Hongqiao Supermarket. I paid special attention to areas where traffic police might appear. Fortunately, navigating this area felt as familiar as my own fingers, so there were no unexpected incidents.
As I approached the entrance of Hongqiao Supermarket, a large hat suddenly came into view without warning. I was startled and quickly stepped back. Behind me was a grocery store on the street corner; I knew the shop owner well. Her husband had passed away many years ago, and it was my grandfather who handled his funeral arrangements. Since then, every time I saw her, she insisted on giving me something.
In summer, she would give me ice pops; in winter, hand warmers; in autumn, scarves; and in spring, her homemade Radish Sticks. I loved eating radishes—Radish Sticks with chopped green onions, garlic paste, a splash of vinegar, soy sauce, and sesame oil made for an excellent side dish.
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