Chapter 8
In the early hours of that day, a post turned red-hot on the Tongcheng Forum.
Title: [You Won’t Believe It, But I Saw a Ghost Tonight.]
Original Post: [After my night shift, I was passing by the recently opened University Town Creative Market when suddenly the power went out. The street was still quite busy, but the sudden darkness startled me. I immediately tried to leave, but no matter how I circled around, I kept ending up in the same spot. My phone had no signal, and I couldn’t get any light out! You have no idea—I was about to cry when suddenly I saw someone ahead and hurried over…]
Replies:
“Wow, it’s been a while since I’ve seen a ghost story on the forum. Refreshing.”
“Is this the start? Midnight ghost story segment?”
“Prosperity, democracy, civility, harmony; freedom, equality, justice, rule of law; patriotism, dedication, integrity, friendliness.”
“Beer, soda, sunflower seeds, snacks, mineral water—front row, selling plush toys, chubby ginger cats, and golden shaded ones!”
“Creative Market? Come on, at least make your story believable. Aren’t ghosts afraid of sunlight? The market’s always crowded—how could you meet a ghost there? A men’s restroom story would be more convincing.”
“So, what happened next? Don’t run, OP!”
“Waiting is so slow. Is this a new trend—drop a hook and then vanish?”
“OP, hurry up and tell us!”
OP: “Don’t rush me, I type slowly!”
OP: “Continuing—when I got closer, I saw a man. He was so handsome, really beautiful. I’ve never seen a man that good-looking before, sob.”
Replies:
“??”
“OP, isn’t this supposed to be a ghost story? Why are you telling a romance?”
“I want a ghost story, you’re off-topic (expressionless).”
“I’m not interested in men; just tell me what ghost you saw!”
OP: “No, I’m not off-topic! I continue: this handsome man suddenly—suddenly black smoke poured from his body, his eyes turned blood-red, and he said, ‘Qingqing, why do you hide from me? Why won’t you look at me?’”
OP: “His voice was super eerie, I got goosebumps all over!”
Replies:
“Huh?”
“Could he be a forsaken vengeful male ghost???”
“Oh, so the handsome man you saw was a ghost.”
“Uh… a ghostly handsome man?”
“Honestly, you’re the least scary ghost story poster I’ve ever seen.”
“Same here. I was a bit spooked by the Creative Market mention, and I even experienced a blackout there after work that night, but… that’s it? That’s all? Fake or not, it’s really boring.”
OP: “No, Chinese don’t lie to each other! I really saw it! That male ghost suddenly looked terrifying—red pupils, mouth wide open like he wanted to eat me! My legs went weak! But then something stranger happened! Do you know? Some playing cards flew over and stuck all over the ghost, and he… he disappeared! Really disappeared! What the hell??!!”
Replies:
“…Playing cards to exorcise ghosts, really?”
“If it were tarot cards, I might believe you, but playing cards? Forget it.”
“Exclamation marks won’t save this lame story.”
“Believed OP’s nonsense, I’m out.”
“Let’s go, wasting ten minutes of life.”
“Boring.”
“So fake.”
OP: “It really was playing cards, not tarot cards! Because playing cards totally blew my mind—no, everything tonight blew my mind. I was stunned, then I saw another young man. He gave off a comfortable, gentle vibe. I saw him wave at the spot where the ghost dissolved, and suddenly the streetlights came back on, power restored…”
OP: “I’ve been thinking—did I just witness a ghost capture in action tonight?”
Replies:
“…OP, please stop making things up.”
Second page
Replies:
“I get it now, OP is actually advertising the Creative Market! Pretending to tell a ghost story but really promoting the market!”
“Good analysis upstairs.”
“Case solved. Looks like a low-tier advertorial writer. I’m out.”
OP: “?????”
Why does no one believe me?
…
Several days passed, and Tongcheng remained peaceful and calm.
Apart from local news reporting a few citizens had lost their pet cats and asking cat lovers to help search, the ominous events the mysterious black-clad underworld official mentioned—of malevolent spirits harming people—seemed not to have occurred.
It appeared the underworld official had successfully resolved the situation.
A couple of days later, Chu Mingming was browsing the forum when he saw the ghost encounter post again and immediately forwarded it to Chu Ning.
He hadn’t expected that a passerby had commented and even liked the post with a touch of sympathy.
Chu Ning read the post and couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time. After all, even ordinary people have moments of heightened emotion, and stumbling upon something supernatural wasn’t that strange.
This OP’s plight was that even telling the truth earned no belief.
But playing cards to exorcise ghosts? Haha, that was a truly unexpected twist.
Because Chu Ning had recently received a sum of money from Su Xiaqing, his financial pressure for timely payments to the Tonghua City Hospital had eased.
He allocated half to the hospital and transferred the rest to his parents’ bank account.
When a large deposit appeared suddenly, Chu’s parents were startled. After checking, they found it was from their eldest son, Chu Ning.
“Why are you sending money out of the blue, Ningning?”
Chu’s father called, his background filled with the noisy clanging of cooking and customers urging him in the kitchen.
Chu Ning knew that since the revelation of the baby mix-up between him and Chu Xiuran, though no one openly said anything, his father, formerly a department manager, had been quietly dismissed due to rumors.
After dismissal, facing Chu Ning’s high medical bills, his parents had sold their only two houses and borrowed heavily from relatives.
They juggled caring for the comatose, vegetative Chu Ning in the hospital, while working odd jobs between Tongcheng and Lin City.
Later, thanks to his father’s cooking skills, relatives helped him get a job as a chef at a popular private restaurant, and his mother took a part-time server position there. Their work finally stabilized again.
Thinking of his parents in their fifties still struggling to cover his medical expenses, Chu Ning felt deeply apologetic.
He calmed himself, took out a yellow talisman paper and began writing, speaking to his father: “I’ve earned some money recently. The hospital rehab fees are covered. Dad, you can use the rest to help repay debts to Uncle’s family.”
His father replied, “No rush on the debts.”
He paused, then his tone turned nervous and low: “But Ningning, honestly tell me—what exactly are you doing to suddenly make so much money?”
Chu Ning didn’t hide the stall business. When asked, he briefly mentioned it. When he said a talisman could sell for a thousand, his father burst into a coughing fit.
His father gripped the phone tightly, voice raised: “How many did you sell?”
“One thousand yuan each.”
Chu’s father wasn’t a strict materialist; when Chu Mingming was applying for university, he and his mother had gone to the most famous Taoist temple in their hometown to pray for a peace talisman, hoping their younger son could get into his ideal university.
The Taoist priest who drew the talisman was highly recommended and sold them a peace charm for 200 yuan, which he thought was expensive.
But now, his son was selling some mysterious “Six Jia God Talismans” for a thousand yuan each!
A thousand! If his son dared to ask that, someone must be foolishly rich enough to buy!
Chu’s father worried that Chu Ning was resorting to deceit just to help the family repay debts.
He wanted to talk to his son seriously but was interrupted by the kitchen staff urgently calling him, so he had to hang up and get back to work.
…
Chu Ning, having informed his family about the stall, began thinking about new ideas.
Talismans were expensive. Except for the first day when Zhao Kexin and her close friend bought many, in the following days, not a single one sold.
Occasionally, someone asked about the price but left immediately after hearing it.
Gradually, fewer and fewer came to his stall.
By yesterday, Chu Ning sat alone, playing a match-three game on his unimpressive phone for six hours without interruption.
Meanwhile, the neighboring tarot stall remained busy as ever.
When his phone died, Chu Ning boredly stared at the neighboring stall, reflecting on his outdated approach of selling fortune-telling and talismans.
He decided to try selling affordable small items.
He did market research at the Creative Market, studying the two most popular stalls—the fully booked nail salon and the booming tarot stall.
The nail salon owner gave customers a small brooch as a free gift.
The tarot stall owner, besides selling lucky crystals, also gave each customer a pretty card symbolizing good fortune.
Both the brooches and tarot cards were cute little trinkets.
Chu Ning pondered this, then went to a wholesale market and bought several large bags of goods.
Chu Mingming didn’t know what his brother was up to, as he was already overwhelmed with his own studies.
Just days after the Creative Market opened, Chu Mingming focused entirely on his studies.
With deadlines approaching, he had lost sleep for several nights, growing irritable and less efficient during the day.
He wasn’t alone—campus-wide, many students were in the same predicament.
Chu Ning hadn’t visited the Creative Market for two days, staying in the apartment making items.
He was unaware that due to upcoming school assessments, foot traffic in the market had dropped by fifty to sixty percent.
Only the tarot stall remained as busy as ever, while the nail salon struggled to fill its tiny stools.
Late at night in the rental, Chu Ning worked until midnight.
When he looked up and stretched, preparing to wash up and sleep, Chu Mingming knocked and peeked inside.
Curious about what his brother had been doing locked in his room, he was surprised to see the table covered with felt wool dolls and piles of red-string knotted decorations.
“Bro, did you make all this?” Chu Mingming exclaimed.
Chu Ning rubbed his shoulders and proudly showed off his creations, picking up a doll to fidget with. He asked, “I’m taking these to the stall tomorrow. Business should improve, right?”
Chu Mingming looked at the pretty red knotted decorations and the oddly shaped dolls, hesitated, then decided to blindly support his brother.
“Definitely will!”
“I think so too.” Chu Ning asked, “Why did you come here?”
Chu Mingming realized his original purpose and handed over a cup of water, stammering, “Bro, I want to stay at school for the next couple of days. The exam is coming, and I’m afraid I won’t study well.”
“Exams are important. Don’t worry about me,” Chu Ning said.
Although temporarily unable to stand, Chu Ning was still capable of self-care.
He waved off concern, noticing Chu Mingming’s dark circles under his eyes from poor rest.
He casually picked up one of the red-string felt dolls and muttered an incantation:
“Hehe Yangyang, sun rises in the east, cut off nightmares, ward off misfortune.”
A barely visible white light flickered from the doll.
Chu Mingming rubbed his eyes hard, puzzled. What kind of magic was his brother practicing now?
Chu Ning calmly finished, tossed the doll to Chu Mingming, and said, “Carry this with you—it can cure insomnia.”
Chu Mingming took it dumbfounded, repeating, “...Cure insomnia?”
After a pause, he looked the doll over skeptically and asked, “Bro, besides catching ghosts, you can cure illnesses? This really works for insomnia?”
Chu Ning was sleepy and didn’t want to explain more, yawning casually, he replied, “Try it and you’ll know.”
Chu Mingming squeezed the doll and hesitated, “...But I’m a guy. Sleeping with a doll isn’t very manly.”
Chu Ning: “?”
Why is he so picky now?
He reached out his hand: “Then give it back.”
Chu Mingming: “...” Oh no!