Volume One, Chapter Thirteen: D-Don’t Come Any Closer!

In the end, the waiter practically stumbled and crawled as he rushed to inform the restaurant owner.

“What nonsense? What era do you think we’re living in? How could there be ghosts? You must not have slept well last night and started dreaming in broad daylight,” the owner, a slightly portly middle-aged man dressed in a light gray Mao suit, scoffed, his face full of disbelief.

“It’s true! There really is a ghost! I saw it with my own eyes, right in that private room!” The waiter was visibly agitated.

“Just go and look for yourself—I’m not lying!”

Wang Huazhong didn’t believe a word. “Even if there were ghosts, they wouldn’t be out in the middle of the day. I think you’re just looking for an excuse to slack off.”

“I’m going to check right now. If there’s nothing, you’ll answer for it!” With a snort, he strode out the door, the waiter hurrying nervously after him.

“It’s… it’s this one.” The waiter pointed at the private room where Yun Mojiu and the others were, his body trembling, unable to go any closer.

“Look at you—so timid! There’s no such thing as ghosts in this world,” Wang Huazhong grumbled with disdain, pushing the door wide open.

“Hey, good day to you~”

Gu Ling floated in midair, upside down, grinning and greeting Wang Huazhong.

His face was unnaturally ashen, his pupils clouded with an eerie white—the features unmistakably not of the living.

Wang Huazhong froze in terror.

“Aaaah—g-g-g-ghost!” he shrieked, stumbling back two steps until he tripped over the doorframe and landed, trembling, on the floor, his fleshy face twisted in horror.

Behind him, the waiter rubbed his nose. See? He hadn’t lied. And to think he’d been called a coward! They were both the same, weren’t they?

“Hey, don’t be scared,” Gu Ling laughed, “We’ve lived together for decades. I’ve been around since you were still in diapers.”

Wang Huazhong’s eyes widened in shock.

What?

Lived together for decades?

Who?

Him and… this ghost?!

“But you really have eaten well over the years. I’m envious—I can’t eat a thing. If only I could have a bit of your flesh. Look how plump you are, and how skinny I am,” Gu Ling sighed.

Wang Huazhong’s mouth twitched. Was that envy, or just a dig at his weight?

Gu Ling drifted down, moving toward the owner.

Wang Huazhong’s pupils contracted in fear.

Don’t come any closer! His whole body shook like a sieve, the fat on his face quivering with terror.

“All right, enough,” Yun Mojiu stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension. If Gu Ling kept this up, the owner might have a heart attack.

“Boss, I called you here to ask about this house’s history.”

Wang Huazhong blinked, only just noticing there were others in the room.

“Who… who are you?” He eyed Yun Mojiu, who didn’t look like a ghost—if anything, far too beautiful for one.

Yun Mojiu smiled faintly. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that I can return this house to you—ghost-free.”

“You can get rid of ghosts?!” Wang Huazhong exclaimed, then remembered Gu Ling was still there and immediately shrank back, afraid to provoke the spirit.

Yun Mojiu nodded. “Yes, but first, you need to tell me everything you know about this house’s past.”

She had already questioned Gu Ling earlier. Although he was a millennium-old ghost, he’d only been awake for a century and remembered little of the past. If he wished to reincarnate, they needed to discover how he’d died and why his soul never entered the underworld.

Wang Huazhong frowned in thought. “This house has been in my family since my great-grandfather’s time. I heard it was bought from someone else, then passed down to me, and I turned it into a restaurant. As for the previous owner or what happened before, I’m not sure. But if you want, I can look into it.”

“Good. I’ll leave that to you.”

“Of course, of course.” Wang Huazhong grinned obsequiously.

“We may need to dig something up in your house shortly—do you mind?” Yun Mojiu asked. Since Gu Ling’s spirit was trapped here, his remains must be somewhere in the house.

Wang Huazhong shook his head vigorously. “Of course, I don’t mind! As long as you get rid of the ghost, you can turn the place upside down for all I care! I’ll get some people together—you just say where to dig, and we’ll dig.”

Pleased with his cooperation, Yun Mojiu said nothing more. She formed a Soul-Seeking Talisman between her fingers, made a swift gesture with her other hand, and the talisman shot above Gu Ling’s head, circling rapidly.

Moments later, the talisman streaked away like an arrow.

Yun Mojiu followed at a leisurely pace, with Xiao Junhe, Wang Huazhong, and the waiter trailing close behind, and Gu Ling, curiosity piqued, floating after them. He, too, wanted to know why he had died and why he’d been trapped here so long.

If he ever discovered who had bound him, he’d scare them out of their wits! It was all their fault he’d been stuck here, unable to leave.

The Soul-Seeking Talisman swept through the central courtyard and led them toward the backyard, finally stopping at a lush, sprawling tree.

“Has this tree always been here?” Yun Mojiu raised an eyebrow.

Wang Huazhong hurried to reply, “Yes, for as long as I can remember, it’s always been here.”

“Then have someone dig it up,” Yun Mojiu instructed, circling the tree.

“Right away!” Wang Huazhong whipped out his phone.

While he made arrangements, Yun Mojiu quietly dispelled the revealing charm from Gu Ling. With more people arriving soon, she had no interest in hearing a chorus of panicked screams.

Soon, several men arrived with shovels. To avoid alarming customers, Wang Huazhong ordered the door between the back and front yards closed.

About an hour later—

“A… a coffin!” One of the workers tumbled out of the pit, terror-stricken, pointing at a jet-black coffin at the bottom.

Wang Huazhong’s heart skipped a beat. After all these years living here, he’d had no idea there was a coffin buried beneath the ground.

As everyone else backed away in fear, Yun Mojiu approached the pit with a calm expression.

“I’ll help you,” Xiao Junhe offered, seeing Yun Mojiu preparing to open the coffin.

She shook her head. “No need—you won’t be able to open it.”

She was simply being honest. This was no ordinary coffin; she could sense a spell formation sealing it, which no ordinary strength could break.

Accepting her words, Xiao Junhe stepped back to give her space.

Yun Mojiu drew two talismans, which flew out and slapped themselves onto either end of the coffin. With swift, practiced motions, she formed a series of hand seals and chanted under her breath.

Finally, she uttered a single word: “Break!”

Instantly, the lid of the black coffin burst open with a boom, crashing into the nearby mound of earth.

Inside, a withered skeleton was revealed to all.