He didn’t really understand why the underworld messenger was calling him “old grandpa.” Wasn’t it said that the Wuchang had lived for hundreds or even thousands of years? And the tone sounded strangely familiar...

David Miller thought about it carefully. It was a bit like the way young village officials spoke when they came to his house to do their work.

“What are you hiding for? Staying in the human world as a wandering ghost, after a few years, with no one to offer sacrifices or care for you, you’ll be left starving, only getting a meal once a year. That’s no good life!” Old White said sarcastically. “Look at all those wild ghosts wandering the world of the living, crying to go to the underworld.”

David Miller had just died and didn’t know much about these things. He stubbornly said, “It’s not that I don’t cooperate with the government’s work (Ashley Grant: ??), look, when the village encouraged tea planting, I took the lead; when they wanted to renovate the toilets, I supported it too... But I had saved up money long ago for my funeral. My son is unfilial—he actually tricked me, a dead man, and spent less than half of that money. I just can’t accept it!”

David Miller started to complain endlessly about his sons, clearly very upset.

His son really hadn’t shown respect for the dead. Ashley Grant asked Old White, “Can you help him?”

Old White replied carelessly, “The paths of the living and the dead are different!”

Ashley Grant remembered how the old man had refused the lucky gold and silver banners, and couldn’t help but say, “Isn’t there any way? For example, when we pass by his son’s house, we could secretly take his money back and use it all for offerings. That way, he could leave in peace.”

Before David Miller could speak, Old White suddenly said, “That comes with a thirty percent handling fee! Old Miller, do you agree?”

Ashley Grant: “...”

He thought Old White should have “greedy for money” written on his hat.

David Miller was confused, “I-I guess that’s fine.”

So they detoured to David Miller’s son’s house and took out the wad of cash from the bedside table—this was all money David Miller had saved up.

He didn’t have much of a pension. Even at his age, he was still growing tea to earn money, and he wasn’t used to saving in the bank, so he wrapped it in cloth. A lot of it was small bills—tens and fives.

At this time, all of David Miller’s children and grandchildren were keeping vigil at the mourning hall, so no one was home. He stuffed some things into the drawer, muttering, “You little brat...”

“All right, let’s go,” Old White urged from the side.

“Wait a bit longer,” David Miller pleaded, “My youngest grandson is only in his third year of middle school, he’ll be starting high school this year. I want to see him again. And my tea leaves...”

Even after settling one matter, David Miller still had many regrets and attachments.

Seeing him beg like this, Ashley Grant thought, the old man wasn’t staying in the world of the living just out of resentment, was he? Whether it was love or hate, he was actually reluctant to leave the human world. He just wanted to keep living here, even if it was a mundane and not-so-happy life.

But Old White was already used to this, and said coldly, “The order from the underworld cannot be disobeyed. New ghost, follow me to the Yellow Springs!”

Hearing this, David Miller burst into loud sobs, “Let me stay one more night, just one more night!”

Ashley Grant was at a loss, when suddenly a surge of intense emotion rushed from his fingertips to his heart—confusion, unwillingness, fear, and despair, like a rising tide, quickly overwhelmed him.

Ashley Grant shuddered, swept up by these strong and complex feelings, his chest tightening. Looking at David Miller, he suddenly understood—these must be David Miller’s emotions. He said uncomfortably, “Why am I... I think I can feel what he’s feeling.”

Old White looked him up and down. “Human nature really is complicated.”

Ashley Grant: “What do you mean?”

Old White: “Right after a person dies, their emotions are at their most intense and rich. This soul-binding chain also transmits strong feelings. The more sensitive a person is, the more easily they’re affected... I didn’t expect you to both trick ghosts and sympathize with them! If you had the same hard heart you used to trick me, you wouldn’t be like this!”

Ashley Grant: “...”

No matter what, Ashley Grant learned something new: water conducts electricity, and the soul-binding chain conducts emotions. He also understood more deeply why underworld food is said to taste bad, and why some spirit-walkers end up half-crazy.

This kind of soul-to-soul transmission is more shocking than any sensory experience, and it’s easy to get swept up in the emotions of the dead.

It was a bit like an actor getting too deep into character, thinking they really were the dead person... Ashley Grant took two deep breaths and pulled himself out of the intense emotions.

Underworld messengers have led too many souls; even if they’re as sensitive as Ashley Grant, they’ve become numb to any emotion. Old White strung David Miller’s soul onto his own chain and said to Ashley Grant, “It’s getting late. Just see us to the crossroads, and we’ll meet again next time.”

As he spoke, he rubbed his hands together suggestively.

Ashley Grant: “...Got it!”

...

The next day.

David Miller’s son had kept vigil through the night. In the morning, he needed to pay the band and took them home to get the money.

But when he opened the drawer with the money in front of one of the musicians, all he saw inside was a handful of paper ashes!

—By comparison, Brian Carter’s story from last night was much less impressive.

On the first day, when he talked about sleep paralysis, quite a few people believed him. But the blue-and-white Wuchang, and the “since you’re here anyway” hat, were just too far-fetched, even comical. No matter how much Brian Carter tried to describe the eerie atmosphere, no one could get into it.