Chapter Seventy-Three: Furious with Shame

I walked up to the bald man and forced a smile. “Buddy, can we talk somewhere else? There are elderly folks here, it’s not convenient.” My tone was calm and seemingly earnest, but in truth, there was a provocative undertone. That’s just how I am—impulsive, a little reckless.

The bald man squinted at me. “Kid, what do you want? Trying to stand up for someone?”

I kept smiling. “Oh, come on, I wouldn’t dare. A life for a life, a debt repaid—those are just the rules! Let’s talk outside; it really isn’t suitable here. The old folks are up there in age. If anything happened, it wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

A cold, sinister smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s see what tricks you have up your sleeve. But if you’re trying to fool me, don’t blame me for what happens next.”

“I wouldn’t dare!”

The bald man and his lackeys marched me outside. Wang Ying tried to protest, but I stopped her. Honestly, I didn’t need to lift a finger against these guys. Last night, while hiding out in the bathroom, I’d had a brief chat with Shangguan Wan’er and Xuanli Qingtin. The three of them had agreed: if anything went down, Xuanli would step in.

As we reached the doorway, I casually grabbed a plastic bag from behind the door—something Shangguan Wan’er and the others had prepared last night.

A crowd of us made our way out to the garden in the residential complex. Fortune favored us; a light drizzle began to fall, the cool drops landing softly and comfortably on our skin.

A few children were playing in the small plaza. I shooed them away with a smile, then opened the plastic bag. My word! The three spirits had done their job well—it was packed full, all red bills.

I thrust the money into the bald man’s hands. “Buddy, count it—see if it’s a million.”

He hadn’t expected things to go so smoothly. His usually small eyes widened like saucers as he snatched the bag and went off to count. I slipped away to the side, took out the soul jar, and slyly opened it. “Wan’er, how did you make this money look so real?”

Shangguan Wan’er giggled. “Of course it’s real. I borrowed it from some old friends. But it’s all spirit money—burned offerings! You can’t use it, but we can. Wasn’t this the effect you wanted?”

“Wan’er, you’re so thoughtful. Whoever marries you is truly blessed.” I gazed at her lovely, full cheeks, momentarily entranced.

“Go on, or your wife will give you an earful,” Wan’er replied, blushing.

“Xuanli, you’ll be the grand finale. It’s cloudy today, so there’s less positive energy—perfect for you to shine.” I knew a good show was coming. I could handle these guys, but there was no way I’d use my palm-thunder against mortals.

“Exactly one million. The debt’s settled, we’re leaving!” The bald man seemed in a daze. He’d only come to extort us, never expecting to actually get the money. He couldn’t wait to leave.

I reached out. “Not so fast! Don’t be in such a hurry. You need to leave me a receipt. I have to explain things to my father-in-law, after all.”

The bald man paused, his gaze shifting. At last, he picked up a pen and scrawled on the notebook I handed him: ‘Such-and-such received one million as debt repayment.’ The handwriting looked like a turtle’s crawl, and I didn’t bother checking if the name was real. I had no intention of getting the money back.

“You checked? It’s real money?” I tucked the receipt into my pocket and asked again.

“It’s real. We’re out of here.” He’d gotten a million and was eager to leave. He rounded up his men and they piled into a nearby van, roaring off.

Wang Ying rushed over. “Honey, where did you get so much money? Isn’t it a waste, giving it to them?”

I put my arm around her shoulders. “Dear, I’d sooner give money to beggars than to these thugs. Just wait and watch.”

“Oh!” Wang Ying replied, saying no more. In her eyes, there was nothing I couldn’t do.

The drizzle thickened, and though it was summer, the air felt chilly and damp. I’d wanted to go upstairs with Wang Ying, but figured those guys would be back soon, so I waited by the stairwell. She held onto my arm and waited with me.

Sure enough, barely five minutes later, the van came roaring back. The door slid open, and the bald man stormed out, grabbing me by the collar.

“Buddy, what’s this about?” I shook his hand off.

“Fraud! Charlatan! You tricked us with sleight of hand—look at this!” He angrily threw the bag from earlier at my feet, spilling a pile of black ash from the opening.

“What! Swapped? Or did it burn up? Where’s the money?” Of course, I knew the truth, but feigned innocence.

“Swapped? This is your trickery,” he raged.

“In broad daylight, with everyone watching, didn’t you all check and count it yourselves? Sleight of hand? Show me one! Watching you panic is hilarious. Coming here to scam people—you’re in for it.”

“You—you’re a scammer! Get another million or we’ll tear your building down!” His rage at seeing a million turn to ashes was palpable.

I took out the receipt he’d just signed. “Buddy, you signed this. You got the million, so if you keep pestering me, don’t blame me for getting rough.” These were conmen, and I had no intention of letting them off the hook. I wanted my actions to be justified.

“Are you giving me the million or not? Boys, beat him—give him a good one!” The bald man, furious, retreated while his lackeys advanced.

“Xuanli, you’re up!” I pulled Wang Ying aside. In this weather, with the heavy yin energy, Xuanli could handle ten of them without breaking a sweat. I just had to enjoy the show.

The first few thugs charging at me suddenly stopped, shivering, their eyes glazing over. Their expressions made me want to laugh. Sleight of hand? Today, I’ll show you a real ghost trick.

One of them snapped his fingers, and three woke up.

“Hit him! What are you doing?” The bald man, seeing his toughest men go blank and then turn around, was at a loss, shouting.

Smack! A crisp slap landed on his face. He never expected his own lackey to turn on him, and the slap was so forceful it knocked him to the ground.

“You—you’re rebelling?” the bald man shouted, scrambling up and yelling at his lackey.

“Yes, I am. I’m going to beat you. I’ve had it with you.” The voice was familiar—Xuanli’s. As he finished, a flurry of slaps rained down. The poor bald man was so stunned he didn’t even fight back; soon, his face was swollen like a pig’s, his already small eyes lost in the puffiness.

“Bro, why are you hitting the boss?” a blond-haired lackey stepped in to stop him.

“Don’t move, or you’re next,” another lackey blocked him. I couldn’t help but laugh—this was Shangguan Wan’er’s voice. She couldn’t resist joining the fun. The other ‘rebellious’ lackey must have been possessed by Qingtin.

“Ermao, what’s wrong with your voice? Why do you sound like a woman now?” The blond guy backed away in fear, bewildered by his companion’s sudden transformation.

“That’s none of your business. From now on, if any of you do evil again, I’ll cripple you. Now get lost.” The lackey possessed by Shangguan Wan’er pointed at the group of terrified thugs.

Not knowing what had happened, they turned to run.

“Stop!” Shangguan Wan’er shouted. They froze at once. The blond one quavered, “Is there something else?”

“Take him away. Don’t let him die here. And take us, too.” The lackey, still with Shangguan Wan’er’s voice, pointed at the bald man lying on the ground.

As she finished, the possessed lackey trembled and slowly collapsed—Wan’er had left his body.