Andrew Miller usually doesn't like dealing with ghosts—or rather, he doesn't really like dealing with people either, but for some reason, he actually felt a bit willing to respond to this underworld messenger who took the initiative to talk to him.

"I’m not dead."

A living soul? Ashley Grant thought he was a ghost, mainly because ordinary living souls separated from their bodies could never be this calm—usually, they’d be like Brian Carter.

"Do you eat underworld food?" Ashley Grant asked.

"Do you make underworld food?" Andrew Miller shot back, having overheard the little red and little green ones mention the kitchen squad earlier.

Ashley Grant: "I don’t cook."

Andrew Miller: "I don’t eat."

Their conversation flowed smoothly, and after speaking, they both fell silent for a moment.

After a while, Ashley Grant burst out laughing, feeling as if their brainwaves were mysteriously in sync—there was even a bit of tacit understanding.

There was a hint of a smile in Andrew Miller’s eyes as well.

He hesitated for a moment, then actually explained, "My soul accidentally left my body and got lost, so I’m just staying somewhere with convenient transportation, waiting for my family to call my soul back."

Ashley Grant was shocked. Was there really someone this calm? His soul had left his body, and yet he knew to sit at a crossroads waiting for his family to call him back, not even afraid of underworld messengers?

Maybe he was like himself—not actually one, but influenced by exposure...

Ashley Grant thought about it and decided to do a good deed. "Alright, a chance meeting is fate. As an impermanent, I’ll hurry and send you back!"

Ashley Grant rummaged in his pocket and took out his last origami, tossing it to the ground. He wasn’t particularly skilled at this, and didn’t know how far the other’s body was, so he cautiously chose a means of transportation.

But as the origami grew larger, it turned into a little donkey.

Andrew Miller fell into deep thought. Hurry along on a fast horse?

"Huh, only a donkey left." Ashley Grant patted the donkey’s head. "It’s fine, it’s the same. Hop on?"

Andrew Miller didn’t move.

The donkey, seeing he didn’t move, nudged him with its head.

Andrew Miller showed a look of distaste and dodged aside.

"Look how cute it is, just make do for now!" Ashley Grant said to Andrew Miller. He was a head shorter than Andrew Miller, so he had to look up slightly.

So cute...

Andrew Miller’s eyes flickered. He really broke through his psychological barrier and got on the little donkey, which immediately perked up and shook its head energetically.

Andrew Miller: "You—"

As Andrew Miller hesitated, Ashley Grant had already pulled out his fan, opened it, and gave the paper donkey a strong wave. "No need to thank me, off you go!!"

The little donkey brayed twice, then took off at a gallop.

It really was fast, wind whipping under its hooves, but its body bounced up and down, extremely bumpy. Andrew Miller looked down and saw that one of the hind legs was clearly injured—this was a lame donkey!

Andrew Miller: "????"

Ashley Grant also saw the donkey’s running posture, and that guy was being jolted all over, turning to glare at him.

He froze for a moment, then remembered that when he folded this paper donkey, the hind leg had gotten soaked and ruined.

The donkey had already clattered off into the distance—lame but fast. Ashley Grant shouted at the top of his lungs, "Bro, you’re already riding it, just bear with it—"

……

"Futan? You’re awake?"

Andrew Miller slowly woke up to see his mother’s concerned face. He propped himself up in bed.

Mrs. Miller asked worriedly, "How do you feel? I just called your dad—he’s still filming a night scene at the studio, but he’ll rush back in the morning."

Andrew Miller shook his head. "No need, I’m fine."

"…Sigh, alright." Mrs. Miller sighed. The child just has to get used to it, but she still had some questions. "How come this time, you came back without us calling your soul?"

His memory was still a bit fuzzy after returning to his body. Andrew Miller stared blankly for a while before recalling that underworld messenger with his face covered, only a pair of warm brown eyes showing... and because of the bumpy ride, he felt especially dizzy waking up this time.

Andrew Miller moved his fingers and only then noticed something in his hand. He lifted his hand and opened his palm.

Mrs. Miller asked curiously, "What’s that? Where did it come from?"

In Andrew Miller’s palm lay a little donkey folded from yellow paper, its right hind leg slightly torn.

Chapter 6: This Is the Proper Way to Ride with Impermanence

Henry Young was woken by the cold. He’d already lost a lot of blood, and after lying on the ground for half the night in the middle of spring, he’d almost passed out for good.

Shivering, he climbed to his feet, only to feel a sharp pain in his face—his nose felt like it had been run over by a truck. He clutched his nose and looked around, finding himself in a parking lot. The two fierce ghosts were long gone, leaving no trace except for a small pile of paper ash not far away, but he didn’t pay much attention to that.

"What the hell happened last night?" Henry Young’s hometown accent slipped out. He thought back carefully and seemed to recall, in his dazed state, seeing someone wearing a tall hat and holding chains...

A messenger from the underworld?

"Did an underworld messenger come by?" Henry Young asked the golden silkworm gu he kept.

The golden silkworm gu was a bit special compared to other gu worms—it had a soul and could control the souls of others. That’s why Henry Young, as a gu master, dared to take on this kind of job, subduing fierce ghosts. It was also what Old Bai referred to as a "gu ghost."

—Unfortunately, Henry Young hadn’t expected those twin sisters to be so formidable and had fallen for their trick in an instant.