386-390

Chapter 386: Winning the Game  

“Eh…”  

Something felt off.  

Standing behind Old Qian, Ah Hao quickly spoke up, taking the initiative. "Since you all don’t want to stop the mahjong game, how about I take Old Uncle Qian’s place and continue playing with you while he goes to entertain my master?"  

Hearing Ah Hao’s words, Old Qian, who had been feeling a bit conflicted, quickly nodded.  

"That’s a good idea."  

Without hesitation, he gave up his seat, not caring whether the three ghosts at the table agreed or not. He pulled Ah Hao into his place and sat him down.  

As Old Qian left the mahjong table, the ghosts who had been seated there instinctively started to get up. However, the moment Ah Hao took his seat, they seemed to be unable to resist sitting back down, their faces dark as they stared at him.  

Gulp.  

Feeling the cold, lifeless stares of the three ghosts, Ah Hao instinctively swallowed hard.  

Forcing an awkward smile, he said nervously, "Uh… dear uncles and aunts, this is my first time in Thailand, and my first time playing mahjong with you all. If I do anything wrong, please go easy on me…"  

"…"  

The three ghosts remained silent, their expressions dark as they stared at Ah Hao for a long moment. Then, at last, they stretched out their pale hands and began reshuffling the mahjong tiles.  

Clatter—  

Hearing the familiar sound of shuffling tiles, Ah Hao let out a small breath of relief. He quickly reached out to mix his own tiles while secretly praying in his heart.  

"Master, please… don’t screw me over this time."  

"Sorry about that, Jiu Ying."  

Leaving the mahjong table, Old Qian reached into a drawer and pulled out a thick stack of banknotes. Feeling the heavy weight in his hands, he struggled to suppress a smile as he apologized to Lin Jiu Ying, who had just arrived at the general store.  

"I don’t know what happened today—I got so caught up in mahjong that I completely lost track of time and missed picking you up. You had to find your own way to Chinatown. Let me make it up to you with an authentic Thai dinner and a massage tonight."  

Having won so much money, Old Qian couldn't help but sound a bit more generous than usual. He patted his chest confidently, grinning with his few remaining teeth.  

Lin Jiu Ying, however, furrowed his brows and said, "Instead of worrying about treating me, you might want to take a closer look at what’s in your hands—see if it’s really what you think it is."  

Hearing this, Old Qian shook his head and chuckled. "Jiu Ying, after all these years, you haven’t changed a bit. Still speaking in riddles."  

Even so, he glanced down at the stack of banknotes in his hands.  

The face of King Rama IX, Bhumibol Adulyadej, was clearly printed on the thick wad of Thai baht.  

Bhumibol Adulyadej was the longest-reigning monarch in Thai history, deeply respected and loved by the Thai people, often referred to as the "Father of the Nation." He and his son, the current King Rama X, were polar opposites in the eyes of the public.  

Staring at the cash in his hands, Old Qian was just about to make a remark when Lin Jiu Ying suddenly waved a peachwood-carved leaf in front of his eyes.  

In the next instant, a faint blue light flickered, and Old Qian felt a brief chill in his vision.  

Looking back at the money in his hands…  

It had somehow turned into a thick stack of joss paper—ghost money.  

"What?!"  

Old Qian’s grin froze instantly as he stared at the ghost money in his hands.  

"Where’s my money?! The winnings from my mahjong game—why did they all turn into ghost money?!"  

Hearing the disbelief in Old Qian’s voice, Lin Jiu Ying simply pointed toward the living room and said,  

"Turn around and take another look at your mahjong buddies."  

Following the direction of Lin Jiu Ying’s finger, Old Qian turned toward the mahjong table.  

With the illusion lifted, the truth was laid bare before him—  

Seated at the mahjong table were ghosts.  

Watching them continue their game with Ah Hao, Old Qian’s already wrinkled, skeletal face turned even paler. The realization that he had been playing mahjong with ghosts just moments ago nearly made him cry out in terror.  

"Shh."  

Lin Jiu Ying swiftly covered Old Qian’s mouth and whispered in a hushed tone.  

"I had Ah Hao take your place, but that’s only a temporary measure—it won’t hold for long. Once they realize something’s off, we’ll be in trouble."  

"Now, go get me a table and a bowl of rice…"  

"Why aren’t you drawing a tile?"  

In the general store’s living room, at the mahjong table—  

Ah Hao had neatly stacked the tiles like the others, but now he was fidgeting anxiously.  

He wasn’t lying to his master earlier—he really didn’t know how to play mahjong. He didn’t even know where to start drawing tiles from.  

"Uh… why don’t you go first?"  

Seeing the ghostly "auntie" across from him staring with her exposed brain matter visible, Ah Hao struggled to maintain a neutral expression and awkwardly deferred his turn.  

"…"  

The three ghosts stared at him silently for a moment. Then, at last, the one with an unnaturally long tongue reached out and drew a tile.  

With that, another ghost followed suit.  

Seeing their example, Ah Hao hurriedly imitated their actions and picked a tile as well.  

"What, are you hesitating to discard a tile too?"  

Looking at the tiles in his hand, Ah Hao’s expression remained stiff.  

He didn’t know how to play mahjong, so he had no idea whether his hand was good or bad.  

The ghost with a knife lodged in its chest sneered and urged him to play a tile.  

Ah Hao glanced at the knife sticking out of the ghost’s chest before hastily grabbing a random tile and throwing it out. Then, he froze again, unsure of what to do next.  

"Draw a tile."  

The ghost with the knife reminded him again, its voice chilling.  

"Oh…"  

Ah Hao hurriedly grabbed another tile.  

But in his panic, his hand bumped into the stack of tiles, knocking them over.  

Seeing his tiles spill across the table, Ah Hao became even more flustered. He quickly set aside the tile he had just drawn and scrambled to fix the mess.  

"Wait a minute…"  

Just as Ah Hao was restoring order, the ghost with the knife suddenly spoke up.  

Its pale face darkened as it stared at Ah Hao, its tone eerie.  

"You just won, didn’t you?"  

"Huh?!"  

"Self-drawn, concealed hand—you won this round."  

Chapter 387: Ghostly Trickery  

"Master Taoist, the things you asked for are ready!"  

Meanwhile, as Ah Hao played mahjong with the three ghosts, a few breathless Chinese immigrants from Chinatown hurried back to the grocery store.  

"Master Taoist, is this amount of blood enough?"  

One of them carefully held out a small bowl of chicken blood with both hands, looking worried.  

"The height of a mountain doesn’t matter—what matters is whether it has a spirit. The amount of blood doesn’t matter either—what matters is whether it has the right properties. Rooster blood is merely a medium; this much will do."  

Taoist Lin Jiuying took the bowl and glanced down at the blood as he spoke.  

"Old Qian, are you human or ghost now?"  

After handing all the materials over to Lin Jiuying, the group finally noticed Old Qian standing to the side.  

Instinctively, they took a step back, huddling together as they stared at Old Qian, who looked utterly dejected. Swallowing nervously, they asked, "Are you sure you're still human?"  

"Of course I am! What kind of stupid question is that?"  

Old Qian scowled at them and replied in frustration.  

"But… I might as well be a ghost at this point."  

Just as the group began to relax, patting their chests in relief, Old Qian’s next words made their hearts jump back into their throats. Some of them even began subtly turning around, ready to bolt if things took a bad turn.  

"…I mean a broke ghost. I’ve been playing mahjong with those ghosts nonstop these past few days and haven’t won a single dime. If that doesn’t make me a broke ghost, what does?"  

Fortunately, his follow-up explanation stopped them in their tracks.  

"As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters."  

The group exchanged sheepish glances, retracting their steps and forcing awkward smiles. Then, they turned to Old Qian and began lecturing him.  

"And you’re still worried about money? If it weren’t for the Taoist Master noticing something was off, who knows how much longer you’d be stuck playing mahjong with those ghosts?"  

"Honestly, Old Qian, you’re just too greedy for money. You even wanted ghost money—no wonder they came knocking at your door! If something really happened to you, this grocery store would be changing owners…"  

"Speaking of which, how did you even get involved with those ghosts? What did you do to make them come looking for you to play mahjong?"  

As the others bombarded him with questions, Old Qian shook his head, looking downcast.  

"This whole mahjong game… I’m still confused about how it even started."  

"Thinking back now, Aunt Tai has been dead for two or three years. How could she suddenly be alive again and playing mahjong with me?"  

"What?! You saw Aunt Tai?"  

One of the Chinatown residents gasped in shock at the name.  

"Who’s Aunt Tai?" someone else asked, still trying to process the situation.  

"You forgot? She was the old lady who lived at the corner of the street and got killed when a flower pot fell from above."  

"Oh, that Aunt Tai…"  

"And it’s not just her. The other two at the mahjong table were 'familiar faces' too..."  

When Old Qian revealed the identities of the other two mahjong-playing ghosts, everyone in the grocery store looked even more horrified.  

One of them, known locally as Brother Long, had been a thug who extorted protection money from Chinatown businesses. Last year, he was killed in a street fight, and many people had celebrated his demise. The other was Uncle Yu, an elderly immigrant who had been one of the earliest settlers in Chinatown. Unfortunately, his son had gambled away their home, leaving him destitute. In the end, he hanged himself at home and wasn’t discovered until ten days later—his corpse had already begun to rot.  

Three ghosts, all former Chinatown residents. The realization sent chills down everyone’s spines.  

Some of them even began recalling other past deaths in the community, wondering if those souls were still lingering nearby, unseen but ever-present.  

The thought alone was enough to make them shudder.  

"Master Taoist… please, you have to help us…"  

Turning to Lin Jiuying, the Chinatown residents pleaded with trembling voices.  

"Don’t worry. Exorcising evil and protecting the innocent is the duty of a Taoist practitioner."  

Lin Jiuying placed the rooster blood and willow branches on the table, his expression solemn and determined.  

Meanwhile, at the mahjong table in the living room, Ah Hao was still playing in a daze against the three ghosts. Just as Old Qian had said, when a living person plays mahjong with ghosts, they can win even with their eyes closed.  

Despite not even knowing the basic rules of mahjong, Ah Hao kept winning round after round. And oddly enough, the ghosts he was playing against had no complaints—they simply watched as he continued to take their money, seemingly content with the outcome.  

"You won again. Your luck is incredible," Uncle Yu said, stretching out his tongue unnaturally as he spoke in a ghostly, hollow tone.  

"Just lucky, just lucky," Ah Hao replied, grinning as he collected the paper money handed to him by the ghosts.  

Even though he knew these were just spirit offerings, the thrill of winning every single round gave him an inexplicable high.  

Now, he finally understood why Old Qian had been glued to that seat, unwilling to leave. Playing mahjong with ghosts was so satisfying!  

He tried to act humble, but the glee in his eyes was impossible to hide.  

The three ghosts exchanged eerie glances, their expressions dark and sinister.  

Sitting to Ah Hao’s left, Brother Long sneered, his voice chilling: "Beginners often have strong luck. But let’s see how long that luck lasts."  

"That’s right. You’re laughing now, but let’s see if you’ll still be smiling when you start losing," Aunt Tai added.  

As she spoke, a thick, white brain-like substance dripped from the gash on her head, splattering onto the mahjong table. Her blank eyes fixed on Ah Hao.  

"Not good!"  

At first, Ah Hao brushed off their words as nothing more than the bitter complaints of sore losers.  

But a short distance away, Lin Jiuying’s expression suddenly darkened.  

"What’s wrong?" Old Qian asked, noticing the shift in his demeanor.  

"It looks like these ghosts are getting impatient. They’re planning to use dirty tricks now," Lin Jiuying said grimly.  

"Dirty tricks?"  

"That’s right. Normally, living people have better luck than ghosts. So if a ghost wants to win, the only way is to keep playing until they drain the person’s good fortune completely. That’s what they were trying to do with Old Qian—they almost succeeded. But then Ah Hao stepped in, forcing them to start over.  

"And now, these ghosts don’t want to wait any longer. They’re planning to use supernatural means to win. Even if it costs them dearly, they’re determined to end this game."  

"And what exactly are 'supernatural means'?"  

"It’s what we call ghostly trickery."  

Chapter 388: The Whipping   

"Open the altar, begin the ritual!"   

Seeing that the ghosts at the mahjong table were about to play tricks, Lin Jiuying hesitated no longer.   

He took two red candles from his backpack, lit them, and placed them at both ends of the table. Then, he carefully inserted three incense sticks into a bowl of rice, assuming a respectful posture. Stepping into a Yin-Yang Bagua stance, he formed a hand seal and began chanting incantations.   

"Spirits, spirits, without a name, I summon three ghosts to my altar. By chanting this true spell, the celestial forces shall reveal their forms. The breaking star shall heed my command, and the divine spirits shall capture these phantoms. By the decree of the heavens, come forth immediately!"   

As he recited the incantation, Lin Jiuying pointed to the incense in the bowl. The next second, a flame emerged from his fingertip and instantly ignited the incense in front of him. Watching the incense catch fire, Lin Jiuying's expression grew solemn. He brought his index and middle fingers together, circled them around the incense tip, and then pointed toward Ahao’s location.   

Under the gaze of Lao Qian and the others, a wisp of white smoke rose from the burning incense, swirled in the air, and then, as if guided by an invisible force, drifted toward the living room.   

This extraordinary scene made the onlookers' expressions fill with even more awe.   

Clearly, Daoist Lin was not a fraud—he was a true practitioner with genuine abilities.   

As the smoke spread, the ghostly hands that had been manipulating the mahjong tiles suddenly froze in place.   

"Do you smell something?"   

Aunt Tai craned her neck, sniffing the air before turning to the other two ghosts.   

"Now that you mention it, there is indeed a scent in the air," Old Man Yu muttered with a frown, inhaling deeply. His expression darkened as he exchanged glances with Brother Long, both looking bewildered.   

Normally, ghosts had no senses. To them, the physical world was empty—they couldn't eat, drink, or even touch objects when they first became spirits. That was precisely why they longed so desperately for the material world, attempting to play mahjong and win things they desired, including human bodies.   

Among the three ghosts, Old Man Yu had been dead the longest.   

And yet, this was the first time since becoming a ghost that he had smelled anything.   

Instinctively, the ghosts took deep breaths. As they did, three faint humanoid figures slowly materialized around the mahjong table.   

"This is...!?"   

Standing behind Lin Jiuying, the onlookers gasped at the sight of the apparitions at the table.   

Hearing about ghosts was one thing, but seeing them with their own eyes was entirely different. Even though they had been told that Lao Qian had been playing mahjong with ghosts, the moment they actually witnessed the three hazy figures in the living room, they couldn’t help but cry out in shock.   

Hearing the exclamations, the ghosts at the mahjong table turned their eerie gazes toward the onlookers.   

Their eyes first landed on Lin Jiuying, who stood upright and dignified in front of the table.   

"Master!"   

Ahao, who had been playing mahjong, immediately realized that his master had taken action. He turned to look at Lin Jiuying at the altar and called out instinctively.   

"Master?!"   

Upon hearing Ahao’s address, Old Man Yu’s expression changed slightly. He narrowed his eyes and asked in a chilling tone, "So, this is all your doing?"   

Lin Jiuying gestured to Ahao to stay calm before turning to the ghosts in the living room. Bowing slightly with a polite expression, he spoke, "Dear spirits, as the saying goes, the paths of the living and the dead should not cross. Since you have already become ghosts, you should not linger in the mortal realm. The dead have their own ways, and the living have theirs. I suggest you end this mahjong game and move on..."   

His courteous demeanor made it clear he was following the principle of reasoning before resorting to force.   

However, the three ghosts in the living room were not interested in reason.   

"End the game?"   

"Who do you think you are?!"   

With a loud thud, Brother Long—who had a dagger stuck in his chest—even slammed his hand on the mahjong table, his face twisted in malice as he glared at Lin Jiuying.   

"I warn you, don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong, or I'll make sure you regret it."   

Even as a ghost, Brother Long remained just as aggressive and domineering.   

His words were met with approving nods from the other two ghosts, who also stood up from the mahjong table, their sinister gazes locking onto Lin Jiuying.   

Clearly, they had no intention of backing down.   

"You won’t listen to reason, then?"   

Lin Jiuying shook his head lightly, sighing in disappointment.   

"Ahao, move aside!"   

Since persuasion had failed, Lin Jiuying wasted no time. He called out to Ahao.   

"Yes, Master!"   

Ahao quickly nodded and jumped away from the table.   

The moment Ahao stepped aside, Lin Jiuying plucked a grain of rice from the incense bowl and held it over a nearby candle flame.   

Bang!   

The rice grain burst into flames at his fingertips. With a flick, Lin Jiuying sent the burning grain into a bowl filled with rooster blood. Instantly, the entire bowl of blood ignited.   

Unfazed, Lin Jiuying calmly dipped his fingers into the burning rooster blood and stirred it. The flames licking his skin seemed to have no effect on him.   

While stirring the fiery liquid, he reached for a willow branch placed to his right. Moving with precise footwork in the Yin-Yang Bagua stance, he chanted another incantation.   

"The living are separated by paper; the dead are separated by mountains. No evil shall escape; no demon shall break free. By the decree of the heavens, let this be so!"   

As he spoke, Lin Jiuying dipped the willow branch into the burning rooster blood. A faint red glow shimmered across the surface of the branch.   

Gripping the glowing willow branch tightly, Lin Jiuying leaped over the mahjong table with the agility of a swallow and charged at the three ghosts in the living room. With a swift motion, he swung the branch at them.   

Sizzle—   

The moment the branch struck, the ghost let out an ear-piercing wail, as if it had been slashed by a blade. Unlike physical pain, the attack directly affected their spirit forms, causing them unimaginable agony.   

"Ahhh!"   

They had believed themselves invincible simply because they were ghosts.   

But the willow branch in Lin Jiuying’s hands shattered that illusion.   

Faced with his relentless attacks, the three ghosts clutched their heads and scrambled in all directions, desperately trying to evade the burning lashes.   

Chapter 389: Subjugation  

"This..."  

Chinatown, inside Qian's General Store.  

Watching the three ghosts scurrying around, clutching their heads as Lin Jiuying beat them mercilessly, several local Chinese were left utterly dumbfounded.  

Just a moment ago, the scene was unfolding like a classic horror movie.  

But the instant Lin Jiuying took action, it turned into a full-blown comedy.  

Since they lacked the ability to see spirits, the onlookers couldn't perceive the ghosts in full detail. However, thanks to the smoke in the air, they could vaguely make out a few shadowy figures being relentlessly pursued and struck by Lin Jiuying wielding a willow branch.  

"Old Qian, who exactly is this Daoist? He's unbelievably fierce."  

"A genuine Maoshan Daoist priest."  

Hearing the question, Old Qian instinctively straightened his back, a proud expression on his face as he responded.  

Gripping a thick stack of bills in his hand, he glanced at the three ghosts wailing under Lin Jiuying’s assault, finally feeling some relief from his earlier frustration.  

"You guys screwed me over at the mahjong table—now it’s payback time."  

"Ah!"  

Another ghost shrieked in agony as the willow branch lashed across its spectral body.  

Master Yu stretched out his long, whip-like tongue and wrapped it around the ceiling fan above. His emaciated frame leaped up like a toad, clinging onto the fan blades. With his head lowered, he glared eerily at Lin Jiuying below.  

"Enough, you damned Daoist! Don’t think we’re really afraid of you!"  

"If you push us too far, we’ll drag you all down with us!"  

Following Master Yu's warning, the other two ghosts also contorted their faces into menacing expressions, looking as if they were ready to go down fighting.  

After all, this situation was utterly humiliating for them.  

They were used to terrorizing people—when had the tables ever turned like this?  

Lin Jiuying casually swung the willow branch and assumed a relaxed stance, his sharp brows furrowing into a straight line.  

"If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s being threatened. Especially by ghosts."  

As he spoke, he gripped the willow branch tightly and aimed it at the three spirits. Without looking back, he called out to his disciple.  

"Ahao, prepare the talisman cloth."  

"On it, Master!"  

Ahao had been waiting at the altar ever since he ran from the mahjong table.  

Hearing Lin Jiuying’s command, he immediately pulled a yellow cloth from their luggage.  

This wasn’t just any cloth—it had been specially consecrated at Maoshan Sect’s ancestral altar for forty-nine days.  

"Old Qian, help me hold this."  

After taking out the talisman cloth, Ahao looked around and quickly called out to Old Qian.  

"Oh! Sure!"  

Momentarily stunned, Old Qian swiftly stuffed his stack of paper money into his pocket before grabbing one end of the cloth.  

Seeing how Old Qian refused to let go of his money even at a time like this, Ahao’s expression twitched with silent exasperation. But there was no time to complain. Gripping the other end of the cloth, he stretched it open and called out to Lin Jiuying.  

"Master, the talisman cloth is ready!"  

In the living room, Lin Jiuying continued lashing the three ghosts with the willow branch.  

However, while the strikes inflicted pain, they couldn’t actually destroy the spirits.  

The moment he heard Ahao’s signal, Lin Jiuying’s gaze sharpened. With two swift steps, he leaped back toward the altar.  

"Hold the cloth tight."  

Glancing at the two holding the talisman cloth, Lin Jiuying gave a quick instruction.  

Then, he dipped the willow branch into a small bowl of rooster blood and, with a dramatic flourish, used it as a brush to write on the cloth: Edict to Command Ghosts to Return.  

As he wrote, he chanted in a solemn voice:  

"By divine decree, as the sun rises in the east, I bestow this talisman to cleanse all misfortune. With the fire of mountains in my breath, and the guiding light of the talisman’s power, I command spirits across the heavens and earth. May plagues be broken, and demons subdued. May the dead be purified, transforming into blessings. By the order of the Supreme Elder Lord, so let it be done!"  

His movements were fluid and precise, showing his deep familiarity with the ritual.  

The moment he finished writing the final character, his incantation also came to an end.  

Without hesitation, he tossed the talisman cloth into the air.  

Instead of falling, the cloth hovered as if held by an invisible force. The words Edict to Command Ghosts to Return glowed bright red, shining directly toward the three ghosts.  

"AHHHH!"  

The ghosts shrieked once more.  

Master Yu, who had been clinging to the ceiling fan, fell to the ground with a thud. Dragon Brother and Aunt Tai, who had worn sinister expressions moments before, were now writhing in pain.  

The talisman cloth’s power far exceeded that of the willow branch.  

Bathed in its glow, the ghosts' former human forms quickly dissolved, transforming into three flickering orbs of blue light. Within mere seconds, they were sucked into the talisman cloth.  

Seeing this, Lin Jiuying swiftly leaped up, grabbed the floating cloth, and deftly bundled it into a tight knot.  

At that moment, Ahao rushed over, holding a container.  

"Why the hell is it a vase?!"  

Lin Jiuying raised an eyebrow at the wine jar in Ahao’s hands.  

"Had no choice, Master! This was the only thing I could find in time!"  

Ahao responded helplessly.  

They hadn’t expected to encounter ghosts on this trip abroad, so they weren’t properly equipped. Even the ghost-sealing container had to be improvised from whatever was available in the store.  

Hearing this, Lin Jiuying sighed, shaking his head. He then stuffed the knotted talisman cloth into the vase, sealing the opening with two willow-tied talisman papers. Finally, he poured the remaining rooster blood inside.  

"This should hold them for a while."  

After completing the ritual, he exhaled deeply, wiping the sweat that had unknowingly formed on his forehead. Then, he turned to his disciple.  

"At sunrise tomorrow, take the vase outside and expose it to direct sunlight for three hours. Once it stops shaking, you can store it away."  

Ahao nodded hurriedly before hesitating.  

"Master... will this kill the ghosts?"  

"No."  

Shaking his head, Lin Jiuying glanced at the others and answered casually.  

"But it'll make them suffer for a good while. Serves them right for calling me a ‘damned Daoist’ so gleefully."  

Hearing this, Ahao suddenly understood.  

"Figures. Master sure holds grudges—he even makes ghosts pay for their insults."  

Chapter 390: Unlucky  

"Jiuying, I really have to thank you this time."  

Inside Qian’s General Store.  

Seeing the vase in Ahao’s hands, Old Qian instinctively took a small step to the side, putting some distance between himself and the fragile object.  

Then, he turned to Lin Jiuying in front of him and expressed his gratitude.  

"If it weren’t for you, I don’t know what would have happened to me."  

"What else could’ve happened? You’d have ended up just like them—turned into a ghost."  

Hearing Old Qian’s words, Ahao pouted while holding the vase and spoke without hesitation.  

"Ahao!"  

Noticing his disciple’s lack of respect, Lin Jiuying immediately shot him a look.  

He then shook his head and turned to the embarrassed-looking Old Qian. "Sorry about that, Old Qian. My apprentice has a habit of speaking out of turn."  

"It’s fine, it’s fine."  

Old Qian waved his hand dismissively, showing that he didn’t mind. However, his gaze instinctively drifted toward the mahjong table in the living room, and a hint of lingering fear flashed in his eyes.  

It would be a long time before he dared to touch those things again—after all, he had nearly lost his life to them just now. As unpleasant as Ahao’s words were, they weren’t wrong.  

If Lin Jiuying hadn’t arrived in time, he might have already been dead at that mahjong table.  

"Speaking of which, Old Qian, how did you end up entangled with these ghosts? Were you actually playing mahjong with them?"  

Although Lin Jiuying had successfully dealt with the mahjong ghosts, he didn’t let his guard down. On the contrary, he was still curious and puzzled as to why these ghosts had targeted Old Qian in the first place.  

After all, under normal circumstances, an ordinary person wouldn’t attract ghosts so easily.  

Especially not three of them at once—enough for a full mahjong table.  

"Now that you mention it, I find it strange too."  

Earlier, with everything happening so fast, Old Qian hadn’t had the chance to think about it.  

Now that the ghosts had been dealt with, he finally had time to reflect. Furrowing his brows, he pondered for a moment before speaking.  

"I’ve lived in Chinatown for so many years, and I’ve never had trouble with anything supernatural before. But in the past few days, I don’t know why—I’ve just been ridiculously unlucky. Before I knew it, I got caught up with these ghosts and ended up playing mahjong with them for days without even realizing it..."  

Even though Old Qian’s answer was somewhat vague, Lin Jiuying picked up on something important.  

"You suddenly became especially unlucky?"  

Frowning, he muttered to himself.  

Then, he looked up at Old Qian and made a quick calculation with his fingers before his expression turned serious. "Can you describe exactly how unlucky you’ve been, Old Qian?"  

"Don’t even get me started—it’s infuriating!"  

"For those few days, I don’t know what happened, but it was like I was cursed. Nothing went right."  

"I’d hit my head just getting out of bed, my breakfast order would always be missing something, and I lost count of how many times I tripped walking down the street. I even started wondering if I had early dementia and went to the hospital to get checked, but they didn’t find anything. I ended up wasting a bunch of money on tests, and the moment I stepped out of the hospital, I got run over by someone..."  

Inside the general store, as Old Qian recounted his streak of misfortune with a pained expression, several other Chinese residents of Chinatown exchanged uneasy glances.  

Then, as if by mutual agreement, they quietly took a few steps back—just as Old Qian had done earlier when avoiding the ghostly vase.  

After all, who knew if bad luck was contagious? If they got infected by Old Qian’s misfortune, they’d be in serious trouble.  

"You really are the definition of bad luck," Ahao couldn’t help but remark after hearing about Old Qian’s series of unfortunate events.  

"Tell me about it."  

Old Qian let out a frustrated sigh.  

He had already thought his luck couldn’t get any worse. But in reality, it had.  

After all, getting unlucky enough to be dragged into a game of mahjong with ghosts—now that was next-level misfortune.  

"This isn’t just about bad luck."  

After listening to Old Qian’s account, Lin Jiuying stopped what he was doing and gave him a deep, meaningful look before speaking.  

"A normal person, even if unlucky, should have limits. But for you to suddenly become this unlucky in such a short time—there are only two possibilities. Either someone has cast a spell to harm you..."  

"A spell? Someone cursed me?"  

Old Qian’s eyes widened in shock at Lin Jiuying’s words, and he quickly defended himself.  

"That’s impossible! Sure, I like to get good deals, but not to the point where someone would go that far just to curse me."  

"Yeah, we’re all neighbors here. We know what Old Qian is like. He’s a bit greedy, but honestly, what businessperson isn’t? We’ve known each other for decades—there’s no way he’s bad enough to warrant something like that."  

"I agree. Old Qian isn’t that kind of person..."  

"But you never know. Even if Old Qian himself isn’t that bad, what if the person cursing him is just petty and vindictive?"  

Not only Old Qian but also the others chimed in to vouch for him.  

Even Lin Jiuying himself didn’t think Old Qian was bad enough to warrant someone placing a curse on him.  

"If it’s not a curse, then there’s only one other explanation—you’ve been tainted by something supernatural."  

"Can you remember if you’ve come into contact with anything unusual recently? Any strange events or objects?"  

"Something unusual?"  

Old Qian blinked and thought for a moment.  

"Chinatown gets thousands of tourists every day, and my general store gets all sorts of customers—some buy things, some just browse. If we’re talking about unusual people, at least half of them could count as that. But as for objects..."  

As he spoke, his expression changed slightly, and he suddenly looked a bit guilty.  

He had been dealing in amulets and charms—something not exactly illegal but certainly taboo.  

After all, in Thai culture, amulets, especially Buddha amulets, were meant to be sacred protectors. If the origins of such an amulet were unclear, who knew what kind of energy it carried?  

But when he thought about all the bad luck he had suffered, he gritted his teeth and finally spoke up.  

"Actually, a few days ago, someone came to my store trying to sell a Buddha amulet. I didn’t think much of it at the time and just bought it. I’ve done this before, and nothing ever happened... But could this amulet be the reason behind my misfortune?"  

(End of Chapter)