Chapter 19: Partners

The elders often say that if you must take an infant out at night, you should light a stick of incense and carry it in your hand—a tradition still followed by some even today. Newborns possess clear and pure vision; their “spiritual eyes” are open, allowing them to see wandering spirits in the mortal world. To comfort these souls and prevent them from disturbing the child, incense is used as a lantern, offering protection.

As children age, their “spiritual eyes” gradually close, but some people, due to their unique constitution, never lose this ability throughout their lives. Those gifted with this sensitivity are often frail and sickly, for they communicate with the dead, standing at the threshold between the living and the departed.

In the early Tang dynasty, the famed diviner Yuan Tiangang created the art of weighing one’s fate, using a person's birth date and time to calculate the heaviness or lightness of their destiny. Those with a heavy fate enjoy longevity and prosperity; those with a light fate suffer hardship and misfortune, and are more prone to attracting restless spirits, plagued by nightmares and depleted vitality.

In summary, those with weak aura and light fate are especially vulnerable to being haunted by malevolent forces.

Even if Qi Yan didn’t fully understand, he could grasp the meaning of this. For some reason, his aura—which should have been quite robust—was weakening, and given his recent experiences, it was clear something was causing this. At this point, he had no choice but to believe in the supernatural. Having comprehended Li Lan’s words, Qi Yan felt like a patient just diagnosed with a grave illness; he nearly dropped the lunchbox from his hands.

Li Lan continued, stunned, “It… is devouring your aura as ‘payment,’ and it seems to be forcibly taking it. Maybe you don’t feel it now, but if this continues, you’ll slowly become like me—able to easily see those filthy things invisible to the naked eye. That’s not the worst part. What’s truly terrifying is… your physical health will deteriorate, and it could even shorten your life!”

“Enough!” Qi Yan interrupted, his lips trembling, eyes vacant. “I know what that means…”

After speaking, he fell silent again, slumping on the sofa without a word.

Li Lan felt a bit dejected by this and turned to his sister. “Sis, do you have any way to help him? I’m not exaggerating; his aura is much weaker than before.”

“Well… um…” Li Ruoke hesitated, her lips twitching. “Maybe I could give him a few luck charms I got wholesale from Southeast Asia? Oh, and I have a jade amulet I personally had blessed by a senior monk at Zen Sound Temple recently.”

Her suggestion only deepened Qi Yan’s despair. He could barely hear the siblings talking, his nerves, which had just calmed, now in turmoil once again.

A terrifying, indestructible, inescapable talisman… Not only did it manifest its power on its own, but it also forcibly demanded his life force as compensation?

Now, truly, inviting the spirit was easy; sending it away would be near impossible.

Sleep was out of the question. Having slept most of the day, Qi Yan couldn’t rest now. He dragged a small stool to the window, asked Li Ruoke for a pack of Thai capsule cigarettes, and sat there lost in thought.

Cigarette after cigarette, his craving intensified with anxiety. His mind, less chaotic than before, faded into a blank void, ignoring everyone around him.

He sat there from midnight until three thirty in the morning—none of them could sleep, so they gathered awkwardly in the living room, each burdened by worry.

He had smoked more than half the pack, filling the room with secondhand menthol fumes. Li Lan busied himself in the kitchen, while his sister Li Ruoke sat beside Qi Yan, gazing with him out at the night scene below.

“You know, smoking so much won’t drive away the evil spirit haunting you… It’s just choking us instead.”

“Cough, cough…” Qi Yan’s throat, dry from excessive smoking, couldn’t help but erupt in harsh coughs.

Li Ruoke sighed and continued, “Actually, it’s not as bad as it sounds. That talisman absorbs your aura, which sounds scary, but honestly, you don’t seem like someone with especially good luck anyway.

Young people like us living in big cities are already unlucky—raised on processed foods, staying up past midnight whether we have work or not, under constant stress, neglecting our health, and you smoke so much… Honestly, with our lifestyles, even without this supernatural mess, we probably wouldn’t live very long.

Besides, you said you’re an unemployed city youth who can’t even keep a job, right? Let me guess: credit card maxed out, no savings, no house, no car, no girlfriend… If your luck is already that bad, how much worse can it get?”

Qi Yan kept his gaze fixed outside, his face unchanged, replying in a hoarse voice, “Your brand of tough-love comfort is more effective than any spiritual pep talk… Go on, say more.”

Li Ruoke didn’t press further but shifted to a more serious topic. “Do you have any faith? I think you could try your luck at a temple, a shrine, or even a church.”

Qi Yan was startled by her abrupt change in subject, but at this point, his emotions barely stirred. He took a deep drag, exhaling smoke, and replied, “No.”

“Even after personally experiencing all this supernatural stuff?”

Qi Yan thought briefly, then shook his head. “No. I may be a materialist, but I know this much: true faith is believing even without ever seeing. If I only start praying to gods or Buddhas after encountering real ghosts… well, honestly, I doubt any deity would bother to protect me.”

His words surprised Li Ruoke. Plenty of people nowadays are skeptical of gods and Buddhas, but few, knowing the truth, still steadfastly hold to their beliefs. Even though he was certain he was haunted, he refused to seek divine protection—what kind of mindset was this?

From his gaze, Li Ruoke saw a stubbornness beyond words: beset by misfortune, unshaken by fear, yet fiercely clinging to his principles… This stubbornness left her momentarily at a loss for words.

Finally, she shifted the conversation entirely. “How about this—you’re unemployed now, right? Why not come work with me at my shop? You’re just sitting around anyway. In times like these, any job is better than none. At least you’d have an income; otherwise, it’d be embarrassing to starve to death before the ghosts get you…”

Qi Yan hadn’t expected her to bring this up now. He finally looked at her, frowning. “You want me to work with you? At… your tiny studio?”

“That tone! You sound like you’re looking down on it… So what? Working for others, no matter how capable, means being a servant; running your own business, no matter how small, makes you the boss. I think someone as clever as you isn’t lacking ability—it’s just that you refuse to be managed, right? Come work with me—we’ll split shares, you’ll be a silent partner, equal footing. We’ll split profits sixty-forty. What do you think?”

Qi Yan saw she was serious, and glanced around her small shop again. “I heard your brother say you do a lot of business—not just fortune-telling online, but also selling sacred amulets?”

Li Ruoke nodded. “First, I don’t just sell amulets—I sell dreamcatchers, lucky stones, protective charms, homemade drinks, and more. Second, I don’t tell fortunes; I divine!”

“What’s the difference?”

Just then, Li Lan emerged from the kitchen, carrying three drinks. Hearing their conversation, he eagerly chimed in, “Don’t underestimate my sister’s business. Like I said, she’s got over a hundred thousand followers on Weibo and more than a thousand friends on WeChat. On average, her monthly turnover is pretty decent. Those young shut-ins love to consult her—divine, not fortune-tell. If business is good, all these miscellaneous jobs can net over twenty thousand in profit a month!”

“Exactly…” Li Ruoke nodded, then quickly retorted, “Hey! Watch your words—what do you mean ‘net’?”

Qi Yan didn’t immediately agree, letting his heart be for the moment. He asked, puzzled, “Why offer me a job? And a share?”

“Because you saved my brother—whether by accident or intention.”