Chapter 68: We’re Here to Warn Him, Not Harm Him

Chapter 68 - We’re Here to Warn Him, Not Harm Him Note: Don't Forget to join my Patreon.com/flokixy to get access to +70 Advance Chapters or unlock the full story from the shop support so I can bring more Chapters for you Vote for Pãtreon Membership Ties Change "How could this happen!" After calming down and returning to his apartment, the fated one was suddenly overcome with fury. He had taken on a mountain of debt just to buy this place. Now he was being told that his neighbors were urns containing ashes—how could anyone feel at ease living in such conditions? The viewers in the live chat immediately sympathized with him. After all, similar cases had been reported in the news before: entire buildings used as storage for urns, with each unit housing multiple families' remains. [It's understandable why people do this. The absurd prices of public cemeteries are to blame—a tiny plot costs hundreds of thousands, and there's no guarantee you'll even get one.] [Nowadays, private graves aren't allowed. You can't keep your ancestors' ashes at home forever, and burying them risks having them dug up later, which would dishonor them.] [For commercial properties like this, an empty unit costs only tens of thousands. Splitting the cost among several families means it might reach twenty or thirty thousand at most. Plus, these apartments come with property rights lasting seventy or eighty years, far better than the twenty-year lease for cemetery plots.] [That said, while it's logical, selling a coffin building to living people is unheard of. That real estate agent who sold it to the fated one is utterly despicable!] Who would knowingly buy into a coffin building? Living alongside the dead sounds horrifying enough, but coffin buildings also tend to be cheaper, meaning lower commissions for agents. Clearly, the fated one had walked straight into a trap. "Master, so... does that mean my TV turning on at midnight and those old men and women in my dreams—are they real?" The fated one suddenly realized the key issue: if his upstairs and downstairs neighbors were urns full of ashes, wouldn't the yin energy be overwhelming? Wasn't he truly encountering ghosts? At this moment, Yāo Yāo's expression turned slightly peculiar. She explained plainly, "Uncle, the disturbances you've experienced are likely from your neighbors." "But that doesn't make sense," she continued. "Based on what you described, these individuals passed away naturally and are honored by their descendants. Ghosts in this situation typically wouldn't harm anyone—they'd try to protect their descendants instead." "But I'm not lying to you, Master!" The fated one looked genuinely sincere, almost ready to swear an oath. Yāo Yāo could tell he wasn't lying; his face showed genuine fear. "In that case, Uncle, prepare three measures of rice, along with incense sticks, candles, and some paper money. Since we can't figure this out privately, let's invite them here and ask directly. Maybe you unknowingly offended them or broke some taboo." After all, the habits of the living differ greatly from those of the dead. Something normal to humans might offend spirits. For example, sticking chopsticks upright in a bowl of rice could be interpreted as an offering to spirits. But if you then start eating without acknowledging them, they might feel mocked. Angry spirits could bring misfortune, though encounters like this are rare since ghosts aren't everywhere. However, the fated one was different—he lived among the dead, making ghostly encounters infinitely more likely than for ordinary people. "There's no other choice." Though terrified at the thought of confronting ghosts face-to-face, the fated one gritted his teeth and agreed. If he didn't resolve this, how could he endure nightly hauntings? "Still, I don't have any incense, candles, or rice at home. I'll need to check the supermarket downstairs." He briefly wondered whether the convenience store downstairs stocked such items. But considering the existence of coffin buildings—and possibly more than one nearby—the demand for offerings during festivals must be high. A few inquiries might go unnoticed, but if enough people asked, the shopkeeper would surely stock up. Besides, these items didn't expire. Unsold goods this year could carry over to next year. As luck would have it, the shopkeeper had recently restocked due to the upcoming Ghost Festival. This made things easier for the fated one. He quickly bought everything he needed within ten minutes. Back in his apartment, under Yāo Yāo's guidance, he arranged the incense, candles, and offerings neatly. Wisps of fragrant smoke began to fill the room. Not long after, Yāo Yāo noticed shadowy figures gradually appearing in the room. Turning to the fated one, she said, "Since the living cannot see ghosts, I will temporarily open your 'false eye,' Uncle. Whatever you see next, don't be alarmed!" The fated one froze, instinctively glancing around nervously. "Are they here?" he asked hesitantly. "Mm-hmm, Grandpas and grandmas are already here!" Yāo Yāo nodded. The fated one felt like he was staking every ounce of courage he had ever possessed. "O-okay... go ahead and open it!" With grim determination, he closed his eyes. The viewers in the chat nearly burst out laughing. [Even though this involves ghosts, between the master's explanations and the fated one's reactions, I can't help but find it less scary and more hilarious.] [Less scary? It's practically comedy gold!] [Aww, too bad we can't see the ghosts ourselves. I'd love to know exactly what's going on!] While the internet crowd reveled in the drama, the fated one internally groaned in frustration. Meanwhile, Yāo Yāo raised her chubby little hand, channeling spiritual energy to point at his forehead. The fated one felt something icy melt into his brow, sending a shiver down his spine. Then Yāo Yāo's crisp voice rang out: "Uncle, you can open your eyes now!" He opened them immediately. Despite mentally preparing himself, seeing an elderly woman mere inches away startled him so much he stumbled backward reflexively. "Oh! Young man, you can see me now!" The old woman's cloudy eyes brightened as she noticed his wary expression. Her loud exclamation startled the other spectral figures nearby, who began observing the fated one curiously, like monkeys in a zoo. Their chatter was deafening, a cacophony of voices that assaulted his ears. The fated one instantly recognized them—they were the same group of elderly men and women tormenting him in his dreams! Overwhelmed by anger and embarrassment, his frustration surged to the breaking point. In that moment, fear of the supernatural vanished, replaced by sheer rage. With a roar, he bellowed, "ALL OF YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!" His booming voice, coupled with his exhausted and menacing appearance, stunned the gathered spirits into silence. The room fell eerily quiet. "Young man, why are you so angry? Look how frightened you've made my wife!" One of the ghosts, an old man wearing a tai chi shirt and sporting a square-jawed face, stepped forward while supporting an elderly woman. The fated one nearly laughed in disbelief. These ghosts had been haunting his house every night, causing chaos, and now they dared accuse him of having a bad temper? What sane person could remain calm when ghosts invaded their home daily? Just as the tense atmosphere threatened to escalate, Yāo Yāo cleared her throat gently, breaking the awkwardness. "Grandpas and grandmas, please don't be upset. It's not entirely Uncle's fault for being impolite—it's because you've been entering his home uninvited at night and scaring him in his dreams." "Even though this is a coffin building, both yin dwellings and yang dwellings follow certain rules. Without the homeowner's invitation, entry is forbidden. I've asked Uncle to invite you all here today to clarify whether he accidentally offended you. If so, we'll offer joss paper as an apology. But if not, please stop disturbing him." "Otherwise..." Her voice softened further, yet carried unmistakable authority. "I'll personally escort all of you back to the underworld." Her words, though delivered in a childish tone, struck the gathered spirits like thunder. One of the older men couldn't sit still any longer and hastily spoke up. "You can't do that! We—we came to Xiao Fan's house because we didn't want him to be swindled out of everything by that woman!" "We're trying to help him, not harm him!" These words left the fated one utterly dumbfounded. His face twisted in disbelief. So this was their idea of helping? Breaking into his home and recreating scenes straight out of a horror movie? "Go to hell!"