Kong Fan sighed as he spoke. If he had known the house was like this, he certainly would never have bought it. This was the rotten luck of eight lifetimes.
An immortal cultivator's money did not blow in on the wind. He had bought this house with a loan.
Nor could he turn around and sell it on to harm someone else.
Now he did not even dare go home. The moment he went in, the Poverty Ghost would deduct his money.
What a torment.
He hoped the Celestial Master of Mount Longhu and the helper she had invited could solve the problem.
"All right. Leave it to me." Zhou You loosened his limbs, ready to take the Poverty Ghost on alone.
"Do you still have the talisman you used to seal the Eye-blocking Ghost last time? Give me one."
Last time, he and Su Tingxue had dealt with the Eye-blocking Ghosts together. Zhou You had eaten one, and Su Tingxue had sealed the other.
Su Tingxue paused, then handed Zhou You a yellow talisman. "You still need this? Weren't you just going to eat it?"
Zhou You shook his head again and again. The Poverty Ghost was too frightening. He did not dare take a bite.
"A Poverty Ghost is stronger than an Eye-blocking Ghost. You have to subdue it before you can seal it," Su Tingxue reminded him. A Poverty Ghost was not so easy to seal. Its movements were nimble, and it resisted talismans. Otherwise she would have sealed it yesterday.
Kong Fan handed over a flashlight. "I couldn't pay the electric bill. The power's out at home. It's pretty dark in there."
Zhou You: "..."
Weren't the conditions a bit too harsh?
Zhou You took Su Tingxue's talisman and Kong Fan's flashlight, went upstairs, and opened the door.
He switched on the flashlight. Kong Fan's home was crowded with bottles and cans of every kind, all delivered by courier.
The bottles were labeled "East Sea seawater." The cans were named "Qinghai-Tibet Plateau air."
Zhou You figured Kong Fan must have fallen apart when those packages arrived. He must have wanted to strangle the Poverty Ghost.
Had the Poverty Ghost been treated as a sucker in life, and so cursed others to be suckers after death?
Zhou You shook his head and stopped puzzling over the Poverty Ghost's logic. Flashlight in hand, he searched all around for it.
"Is there a ghost?"
"A talisman in hand. Another Daoist?" A gloomy voice came out of the dark, as if laughing and weeping at once. Zhou You immediately shone the light that way.
A gaunt, middle-aged man leaned against the wall, hair a mess and face grimy, perfectly at ease, blended into the darkness. Under the flashlight his figure was illusory, nearly transparent.
"That look in your eyes. You can see me?" the Poverty Ghost said with a laugh. Its voice was like a broken-down machine, hoarse and rasping.
"Poverty Ghost." Zhou You had not expected it to simply stand there, with no intention of hiding at all.
"Daoist, anyone richer than me deserves to die!" At the sight of Zhou You, venom showed on the Poverty Ghost's face.
Why? Other people lived bright and polished lives, especially these young ones, full of vigor, their futures wide open. Why was it the only one dogged by rotten luck, never having made any money in a whole lifetime, wife gone and children scattered, even its own parents refusing to acknowledge it?
Money. All of it was because it had no money!
It would curse everyone to end up the same way it had!
The Poverty Ghost activated its power. When it saw Zhou You's money, it was stunned.
Not a single fen!
Nothing in his pockets, and nothing on his phone either!
"Forget it. You can go." For the first time, the Poverty Ghost had met someone poorer than itself. It pitied Zhou You and meant to let him off.
When it died, it still had two coins in its pocket.
"I'll beat you to death!" Zhou You was furious.
The Poverty Ghost's movements were nimble and ever-changing. It dodged Zhou You's fist.
In life it had dodged the people hounding it for debts. After death it had changed, and become hard to catch.
"No. You do have money. You transferred your assets ahead of time!" The Poverty Ghost noticed the little trick Zhou You was playing.
From the Poverty Ghost's point of view, there was a faint, half-there thread on Zhou You, hidden so deep that it had not noticed it at first glance.
A thread like this meant the other party had used lending money as a pretext to move the cash away.
So he had come prepared. Just as it thought—how could anyone be this poor?
A bit of brains. Still, how could a little trick like this fool it?
The Poverty Ghost's will fastened onto that barely-there thread, and it was shocked all over again.
Only fifty yuan?!
Could this Daoist have fought other Poverty Ghosts before?
Forget it. He was not keeping this fifty either!
It could make money burn on its own.
Its will raced along the thread and, in an instant, arrived at No. 2 High.
...
During study hall, the Empress was playing five-in-a-row with the Pen Immortal.
With a gel pen she drew level horizontal and vertical lines on the back of a test paper, and with a pencil she marked x's and o's for black stones and white stones. Once a game was finished, she erased the x's and o's and could play another.
The Pen Immortal had never played. The Empress had taught it.
"I win." Five black stones in a row. Chu Xiaoyao declared victory, perfectly calm.
Of course, the words were written on the paper.
No talking during study hall.
Nuomi pouted. She had already lost several games in a row. The Empress was too strong.
"Hm?"
Nuomi rubbed her eyes to be sure she was not seeing things.
Without the slightest warning, she saw a thread suddenly stretch out from the fifty yuan in the Grand Elder's pencil case.
The thread ran out the window. She had no idea where the other end led.
From the thread she felt a thick malice.
"Shoo. Shoo."
Like driving off a fly, Nuomi reached out and snapped the thread.
...
"Ah—"
The Poverty Ghost was struck by an attack from an unknown source. The thread snapped, and its consciousness was yanked back in front of Zhou You in an instant.
What met it was a punch from a fist that could twist a bottle cap open with one hand.
Bang!
The Poverty Ghost took a heavy blow and staggered back several steps.
Hang on. At least attack with the talisman. What Daoist hits a ghost with his fists!
From that single blow, the Poverty Ghost knew it was no match for Zhou You. After all, it had never been any good at fighting.
It could not win a fight, and he had no money. Where had this Daoist come from? Not a single weakness!
But the Poverty Ghost was not flustered. This was its home ground. It could pass through walls and hide as it pleased, and drag this out forever. Could this Daoist last?
Its figure blurred. It passed through the TV wall, from the living room into the bedroom. Zhou You grabbed empty air.
Time after time, Zhou You watched the Poverty Ghost flee right in front of him. He could not even catch a corner of its clothes.
Zhou You finally understood the fury Lishi had felt at the sight of him. Failing to catch someone weaker than yourself really was infuriating.
"Kid, quit wasting your strength. Get as far from here as you can. You'll never catch me!" From the far side of a bedroom, the Poverty Ghost laughed wildly.
A cold voice came from behind it and chilled it to the bone.
"Got you~"
A pair of big hands covered the Poverty Ghost's eyes. It wrenched its head around a full hundred and eighty degrees. In a darkness where you could not see a hand before your face, Zhou You stood quietly behind it.
The Poverty Ghost's heart stopped cold.
Terror sent it fleeing through the wall at once.
Before it escaped, it looked back to where Zhou You stood. He had not moved from the spot. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
The Poverty Ghost understood what he meant.
He was saying, "Think. You. Can. Run?"
The Poverty Ghost passed through the wall into another room and stared fixedly at the pitch-black doorway, panting in a wretched state, the last sight of Zhou You flashing through its mind again and again.
"I'd like to see just how you show up!"
Darkness fell before its eyes once more.
"I told you. You can't escape."
The Poverty Ghost wanted to flee again, but Zhou You had tired of playing. His big hand covered its face, and with a clang he slammed it to the floor.
A ghost could ordinarily pass through the floor, but the Poverty Ghost could not leave this house. It was pinned solidly to the ground and beaten.
Zhou You's fists came down hard and heavy. One punch left its face blooming with wounds.
He seized the chance to stick the talisman onto the Poverty Ghost's face and, full of expectation, tried to draw it into the talisman. He felt he was doing it properly. He counted as a Daoist now.
No reaction.
"Hm?"
Zhou You remembered what Su Tingxue had said when she gave him the talisman. He had to subdue the Poverty Ghost before the talisman would work.
Did this still not count as subdued?
He thought a moment, then, as a test, kept beating the Poverty Ghost until it was at its last gasp.
Trembling, the Poverty Ghost raised a hand in surrender. "Wait. Whatever you want to ask, I'll confess."
Ask what? Zhou You had nothing to ask. He kept beating it.
The Poverty Ghost's soul splashed in every direction and drifted to the edge of Zhou You's mouth. The sight left him aching with hunger.
So hungry. Maybe just one bite?
Chapter 27