Though I didn't understand why, I did as told.
I walked over to the clay jar and spat on it.
Then I looked at my master, only to find his expression grim.
Curious, I asked: "Master, what's the meaning of this jar?"
My master's face was expressionless: "Inside it, your eldest senior brother is sealed."
I was shocked.
He continued: "Do you know why our ancestor is Lord Bao?"
I shook my head, saying I didn't.
My master explained: "Lord Bao was upright and incorruptible, redressing grievances for the people with an unyielding sense of justice.
By day, he served as an official in the human world; by night, he presided over trials in the underworld.
After his death, he directly became Yama the King of Hell below.
We ghost-senders all worship Yama.
But there are ten halls of Yama, and different lineages worship different Yamas based on their traditions.
Our ancestor is the Yama who judges ghosts' grievances with impartiality and integrity.
Thus, our lineage has three core rules."
At this, my master's expression turned stern:
"First: Ghosts and spirits have good and evil. Guide the good to rebirth; destroy the evil.
Second: Never use ghost-sending skills to amass wealth or commit evil.
Third: Never betray your master, disown your ancestors, or disgrace the lineage!
Zhou Yi, can you abide by these?"
These rules restrained ghost-senders from abusing their abilities.
I immediately replied: "I can!"
My master let out a breath, then said slowly:
"Back then, when I accepted your eldest senior brother as a disciple, I misjudged him.
He had great talent and soon surpassed me in skill.
After that, greed clouded his heart. He ignored good and evil, aiding the wicked.
Later, I used my ultimate technique to end him with my own hands.
Zhou Yi, if you dare break the rules…"
I spoke earnestly: "Then you can end me too! And place another jar here."
My master stared at me, and a smile slowly spread across his serious face.
Next, he told me many things and asked about my current situation.
When he learned I worked two jobs a day and shared a run-down apartment with others,
He shook his head and said it wouldn't do.
He told me to move that night, to come live with him here,
In the room that once belonged to my eldest senior brother.
My master then asked if I liked my current job.
I said I worked purely to survive, not because I liked it.
My master was pleased, saying it was good I didn't like it.
He told me to quit, and from now on, help him run the shop—he'd pay me 5,000 yuan a month.
Not only would I get a salary, but room and board would be provided,
And I'd learn skills from my master.
After hearing this, I felt like I was dreaming, too excited to speak coherently.
"R-really? Master, you're too kind to me…"
My master chuckled: "Silly boy, once a master, always a father.
It's only right that I treat you well.
Go pack your things. Hurry—move here tonight."
I readily agreed.
Leaving my master's shop, I felt like I was in a dream.
Me, a poor, helpless boy…
Now I had a master,
And he treated me so well.
I smiled the whole way back, overjoyed.
I packed my luggage at the rental house and moved to the shop that night.
I cleaned the room and arranged my things.
By the time I finished, it was already 10 p.m.
But just then, my master called me from the backyard to the front of the shop.
He was carrying a backpack—
It looked like he was going out late at night?
My master explained:
The mud on him earlier was from handling a tricky matter during the day,
And it wasn't finished yet.
He'd be gone for three days to wrap things up.
He told me to watch the shop while he was away,
And when he returned, he'd help me retrieve my lost soul.
He also instructed me to hang a green lantern at the shop door every night at 11 p.m., the hour of Zi midnight.
Since we were close to the funeral parlor and on a street selling funeral supplies,
At night, not everyone who entered the shop would be human…
I jumped in fright: "You mean, ghosts might come into the shop?"
My master nodded: "As long as you hang that lantern, those spirits will see it and won't come in to buy things."
After carefully explaining everything, he finally checked the clock on the wall—it was 10:30 p.m.
My master said he was in a hurry to catch a ride,
Then left with his backpack, his figure disappearing at the end of the street.
Most shops on Yellow Spring Street closed by 10:30 p.m.,
But a few, like my master's, stayed open until midnight.
I stood at the shop door, looking out.
The entire street was dark,
Gone was the bustle of daytime.
As soon as midnight arrived, I followed my master's order:
I took the green gauze lantern from under the counter,
Lit it, and hung it up.
A dim, hazy light spilled over the shop entrance.
Just after hanging the lantern and returning to the counter,
A figure appeared at the door: "Boss, do you have candles? I want to buy two."
It was a chubby, dark-skinned man in his early forties.
He stood at the door, looking inside, not entering directly.
I was about to say yes,
But the words changed in my mouth: "No candles."
Because I noticed the man was standing on tiptoe.
In the dim light, he had no shadow…
We were close to the funeral parlor.
Spirits leaving there would pass through here.
Some spirits with "money" would enter shops to buy things.
With my current physical condition, I wasn't suited to do business with them.
So my master had told me:
If spirits came to buy things, always say no.
After I spoke, the man's eyes slowly moved, scanning the shop.
Finally, he lifted a hand and pointed to the shelf behind me:
"Behind you—those are candles. I want to buy two."
I felt a headache but forced myself to stay calm: "Those candles are already reserved. Try another shop."
The man's expression was numb and stiff, his voice slow:
"Other shops sell fakes—they won't light.
Your candles here are real."
Was that true?
No wonder no spirits visited other shops on this street.
"Really can't. These are sold to someone else," I insisted.
My master had said that as long as the lantern was hung, spirits would know not to buy things that night.
If a spirit bargained and insisted,
As long as I, the shop owner, didn't relent or invite them in,
They couldn't enter.
"Oh…"
The man sounded disappointed after my refusal but turned to leave.
He tiptoed away into the dark street, muttering:
"No candles… the road is so dark.
So dark, I can't see anything…"
As he left, I let out a breath of relief.
It seemed that after death, spirits had to walk a dark road to the afterlife,
Which was why they liked candles.
Nowadays, funeral supplies had many varieties,
But only old-fashioned candles could light the way for spirits.
Just as I thought this, I looked up and jumped in fright—
The man who'd left was suddenly back at the door.
"Boss, someone else wants to buy candles. I brought them,"
He said slowly, then stepped aside.
Behind him, a pregnant woman in a blood-stained dress stared at me, her belly swollen.
My heart trembled.
Like the man, she was standing on tiptoe.
But unlike him, her maternity dress was soaked in blood,
With more blood dripping down her legs.