Chapter 14: The Cocoa Mystical Studio

New City, located in the southwest, is a sprawling inland metropolis known for leisure and entertainment. Even at night or in the early morning hours, its streets bustle with life. Now, just past seven in the morning, the night market vendors were finally packing up their stalls, even as breakfast shops opened their doors—proof that the city pulsed with ceaseless vitality around the clock.

Inside Building C, Unit 2 of Duyi Community in the new district, Qi Yan and Li Lan stood in the elevator, looking as if they’d just come from an early swim—their clothes soaked through and caked with mud, resembling a pair of muddied monkeys.

“Your sister’s shop… it’s in a residential block? On the twelfth floor?” Qi Yan hadn’t gone home; after what happened last night, he had nothing left to his name—not just his phone, but his luggage, ID card, passport, bank cards, and keys had all been confiscated by that group.

So, Li Lan had invited him to stay at his place for now. Replacing those essentials would be complicated, and even though they’d made it back to the city, there was no guarantee they were truly safe—they needed to plan their next steps carefully.

Li Lan was a student. On their way back, Qi Yan had shared his story: Li Lan’s parents had died together in a car accident when he was in middle school. He wasn’t an only child, though—he had an older sister. The siblings had depended on each other for years in this city, with one of them working and the other attending school. His sister ran a small business without a storefront, using their apartment as both living space and studio. Li Lan split his time between home and campus.

Only when they were finally alone in the elevator did Li Lan offer a more detailed introduction to his sister. “My sister is about your age. She doesn’t run a typical shop, so it’s fine to have her studio here at home. Actually, there’s another reason I wanted to bring you here—she knows much more about Thai amulets than I do. Do you use Weibo? Her account is called ‘MMD Occult Cocoa-chan,’ and she has over a hundred thousand followers!”

Qi Yan turned to him, eyes half-lidded in disbelief, the sarcasm plain on his face. “Weibo? …MMD Occult… Cocoa… and ‘chan’? You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not. Her shop is called ‘Cocoa Studio.’ She mainly deals with overseas occult items, tarot readings, and various lucky charms. Oh, and the Thai amulets are her best-sellers these past couple of years, so she’s an expert. That’s why I thought of her.”

Qi Yan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “So your sister’s a… charlatan?”

Li Lan considered this, then explained, “You mean the fortune-tellers who used to set up stalls on the street, or those who work as funeral consultants nowadays? She’s not like that. Her clients are young people like us. She doesn’t have a physical store, but runs everything online—microbusinesses, WeChat shops. She gets plenty of requests for readings every day. Oh, have you heard of a forum called ‘Dark Palace Seven’? She’s the president.”

Qi Yan licked his lips, snorting. “Sounds like a modern charlatan to me—a ‘new-age charlatan.’ Is there really any difference?”

At that moment, the elevator chimed and the doors slid open. Li Lan tugged him out. “Let’s just figure out what to do next. I mostly stay at school, but it’s summer break for the next two months, so I’m living here with my sister.”

Their apartment was number 1208 at the end of the corridor. The door, a sturdy new security model, bore an oval wooden sign trendy in design, scrawled with colorful marker: “Cocoa-chan’s Little Ghost Drinks, Open 10 a.m.—10 p.m.” The word “ghost” was written in an especially playful font.

In this era of ubiquitous internet, businesses no longer needed traditional storefronts. Many mahjong parlors, cafes, and food studios operated out of residential buildings. This wasn’t unusual.

Qi Yan gave the sign a lazy smirk. “So your sister’s business includes drinks now?”

Li Lan scratched his head sheepishly. “Well… it’s just a front. If she put ‘fortune-telling’ or ‘amulet sourcing’ on the sign, there’d be trouble.”

Knock, knock, knock.

After a moment, a young woman’s languid voice sounded from inside. “Who is it?”

“Sis, it’s me!”

As she opened the door, she began to scold, “Why are you only just getting back? I told you to call me after your plane—my god! Did you fall into a coal pit?!”

Qi Yan, standing behind Li Lan, sized up his sister, whose face was a picture of shock. The family resemblance was obvious—tall, at least 170 centimeters, clad in pink pajamas and slippers, with long straight hair. She certainly qualified as a beauty, though perhaps just out of bed—her face bare, her hair a little wild, and, like her brother, she was quite thin.

Before opening the door, her voice had been weary, but upon seeing the pair, she was clearly startled. If Li Lan hadn’t spoken first, she’d probably have mistaken them for construction workers come to make noise at dawn. Who knew what these two had been through—they looked like refugees returning from a trek through Nepal.

Twenty minutes later, Li Lan sat at the small round table, munching dry bread and recounting everything that had happened since he got off the plane. Qi Yan didn’t sit, nor did he listen to their conversation; he wandered the apartment, cup of hot water in hand, taking in his surroundings.

If this place was masquerading as a drink shop while actually hosting a modern occult studio, its décor was certainly unique.

It was a spacious three-bedroom apartment with over a hundred square meters. The living room walls were covered with glossy black wallpaper patterned with flowers; the curtains were printed with a three-dimensional starry night sky. Several trendy sofas and chairs dotted the room, while the left wall and ceiling were festooned with dreamcatchers of all shapes and sizes. The other walls were adorned with odd framed pictures: oil paintings of graveyards with crosses, colorful portraits, watercolor carnivorous plants…

On the table stood a pumpkin-shaped lamp and several faux candelabras. There was no TV, but three cages by the wall housed a Siamese cat, a brown toy poodle, and a white bichon frisé. The double-door fridge was decorated with adorable chibi skeleton magnets, and the small round table where the siblings now sat was draped in dark blue cloth, topped with a crystal ball the size of a fist and a spread of tarot cards.

Even their mugs, used for drinking water, were printed with cartoon ghosts and monsters. So this was the legendary “Cocoa Occult Studio.”

Li Lan’s sister—the little boss of this quirky enterprise—was called Li Ruoke. She listened to her brother’s story with a somber face, the room sinking into a deathly silence as he finished.

About thirty seconds later, she suddenly slammed her palm on the table, sending the crystal ball nearly rolling off and startling Qi Yan.

“In a society ruled by law, those bastards still dare… You just wait, I don’t believe in this kind of evil—”

She was halfway through her angry rant when she stormed into the kitchen, emerging moments later wielding a kitchen knife.

Li Lan rushed to block the door. “Calm down! Sis—please, put the knife down. If you go out like this, you’ll be tackled by the security guards before you even leave the building!”