With Seven Ancient Copper Coins in her pocket and the Ghost Collecting Bell around her waist, Wang Ya paid the ghost no mind. She glanced at it and turned to hang clothes, but the doorbell rang—she figured it was the Landlord, so she went to open the door. There stood the Landlord and a burly man in his thirties wearing a loose oversized T-shirt and baggy pants past the knees. The man froze, then said, “So young—still in school? Over twenty?”
The Landlord Wife pinched Landlord Sir’s arm and said, “Miss Wang, my husband talks like that—don’t mind him. I bought what you asked for.” She handed over the bag.
Wang Ya looked: a full bag of Incense, Candles, Paper Money, Wax Candles, and a thick stack of Yellow Paper—enough for three years of Drawing Talismans.
The Landlord Wife asked, “Is it enough? If not, I’ll have my husband go buy more.”
Wang Ya broke into a sweat and said, “Enough!” She took the bag and said, “Come in, but don’t sit on the sofa—your brother is sitting there spacing out.”
The Landlord Wife’s face paled instantly. She stammered, “I… is it convenient for us to come in?”
Landlord Sir craned his neck toward the sofa and chuckled, “Hey, why can’t I see anything?” He strode in, grinning at Wang Ya as he passed with a look that said, “What a pity for such a young girl to be a scammer.”
Wang Ya felt uncomfortable with Landlord Sir’s sloppy demeanor and odd gaze. She asked, “Landlord Sir, want to see? Sure, wait a few minutes!” For her, Drawing an Eye-Opening Talisman was easy. She carried the bag to the dining area. The living room was occupied by the ghost, and the coffee table too low to draw on in front of it.
As she passed the living room, Wang Ya saw the ghost no longer dazed—it huddled with head down, hands clutching its less-than-inch-long hair, looking tormented! Wang Ya couldn’t help thinking: Did this guy kill himself? She shook her head, reached the dining table, and unpacked the Landlord Wife’s purchases. The Landlord Wife had bought thoughtfully: not just Cinnabar, but brushes and ink, even a good Incense Burner from the shop. She really cared about her brother.
Wang Ya mixed the Cinnabar Ink, set out brushes, ink, and Yellow Paper, placed the Incense Burner, composed herself, and reverently lit incense to honor the gods, inserting it into the burner. Then she paced in predetermined positions, chanting under her breath.
Landlord Sir watched with arms crossed, chuckling “Hey” and saying to the Landlord Wife, “Wifey, look at this little beauty dancing so properly—should’ve gone into acting! Scammers these days put in real effort!”
The Landlord Wife glared at him fiercely, rubbed her arms fearfully, and sidled closer. “Hubby, it’s so hot without AC, but still this cold!”
Landlord Sir glanced at the AC. “It is chilly. Nighttime, of course it’s cooler!”
Meanwhile, Wang Ya stood at the table, brush flying over the Yellow Paper! Her expression solemn, brush like a roaming dragon, she exuded a completely different aura from usual.
Seeing this, Landlord Sir glanced at the talisman-like paper and said, “Looks kinda legit!”
Wang Ya drew over a dozen talismans in one go, then set down the brush, exhaled slowly, and looked up with a brilliant smile at Landlord Sir. She folded two into triangles, gave one to the Landlord Wife and slipped one into Landlord Sir’s pocket. “Two Divine Talismans for your protection.” Then she pinched another between index and middle fingers, waved it before him, silently chanting rapidly, and snapped, “Divine Talisman, brighten the eyes—open them!” With the shout, the air trembled; she flung it, and the paper ignited instantly, its Talisman Patterns turning to two beams of light that shot into Landlord Sir’s eyes.
Landlord Sir jolted, blinked hard, and yelped, “What the—?” The burned paper drifted down; he stumbled back. “Don’t burn my hair!”
Wang Ya snickered! The talisman burned in front of him and fell—how could it reach his less-than-centimeter hair? Does he even have hair? Grinning mischievously, she said, “Landlord Sir, I’ve opened your Heavenly Eye—lasts a quarter-hour. Look at the sofa.” The ghost on the sofa, hair in fists, threw its head back in agony: furrowed brows, twisted face, grinding teeth, roaring silently!
Landlord Sir turned to the sofa.
The ghost went berserk, arm sweeping at the empty coffee table as if to smash things off it.
“Mommy!” Landlord Sir screamed, jumping up, then howling, “Ghost—!” His legs buckled; he staggered back, nearly falling on his butt but caught himself with his hands, then scrambled to the door on all fours. He flung it open, yelling “Ghost—!” and bolted to the elevator, mashing the button frantically.
Wang Ya laughed “Haha!” and shouted, “That’s what you get for calling me a scammer! Time to see a ghost live!” Suddenly, a chill shot from the living room. She turned to see the ghost standing there, staring coldly at her—then charging! Wang Ya yelled to the Landlord Wife, “Get out!” She pinched a talisman and slapped it at the oncoming ghost!
The Landlord Wife had been anxious since Landlord Sir fled; at Wang Ya’s words, she chased after him!
The talisman light struck the ghost, sending it flying to crash in the living room. Wang Ya shouted to the Landlord Wife at the door, “Your husband’s eyes are open—he’ll see ghosts! Outside, use a lighter to burn the talisman in his pocket, or he’ll go mad seeing more!”
The Landlord Wife acknowledged with an “Ai!” and slammed the door shut like her pants were on fire, fleeing too!
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