“You’re such a fool! How could you make such a big oath? Do you really think three years is a long time? Do you even realize how many cults there are in China? Not just hundreds, I’m telling you, when you add up all the small ones and big ones, there are over a thousand! Sure, most of them are just random nobodies, but there are still plenty capable of creating a vicious ghost. How are you going to find it? It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack!”

Ever since I made that oath, Uncle Cong had been chewing me out non-stop. Even Brother Xiang chimed in, “I say, Hui, don’t tell me you got bewitched by her beauty? You’ve got some unique tastes…”

Han Sifan agreed with Uncle Cong, saying, “You really acted recklessly this time. You could’ve just sweet-talked her with something she’d like to hear and coaxed her to reincarnate. But to make such a bold vow? What were you thinking?”

“Alright, alright, you guys think I made that oath on impulse, huh?” I retorted irritably. At the time, we were in Uncle Cong’s office. I was sitting on the sofa, lit a cigarette, took a drag, and sighed. “So, tell me, what would have been the right move? Just send her off to reincarnate and let that hatred dissolve into nothing? And besides, you didn’t see Xiao An being roasted alive like I did. If you had, you’d probably be angrier than I am.”

“Ah, seriously, you’re nothing like your Shifu when he was young,” Uncle Cong said with a sigh, mentioning my Shifu. That got my attention, and I quickly asked, “What kind of person is my Shifu anyway? You all keep acting so mysterious about him. He’s my Shifu, after all! Can’t you just tell me?”

“You want to know about your Shifu?” Uncle Cong chuckled. “When he was young, he wasn’t nearly as kind-hearted as you. He wouldn’t lift a finger unless there was money involved, and if there was even the slightest hint of danger, he wouldn’t go near it. If it was both unpaid and dangerous? Forget it—he’d rather die than take it on.”

“And then? What’s he doing now? Some big-shot corporate chairman or something?” I asked. After all, I’d seen him driving a BMW. But the moment I asked, Uncle Cong’s expression darkened, and he cursed, “Chairman, my ass! That guy’s selling soy milk in some backwater town called Wujing Town. Every year, he comes around begging me to lend him a few million. I’m telling you, when you two grow up and start earning, you better help him pay off his debts!”

The moment Brother Xiang and I heard that, we quickly changed the topic. Whenever we talked with Uncle Cong, it was the same—him bragging about how he’d seen nine-tailed foxes, zombies, and even drought demons. He’d also claim our Shifu used to be his little sidekick. We knew it was mostly nonsense, but hey, it made for good stories.

Later, Uncle Cong drove us to a hotel and whispered to me, “Don’t worry about the cult stuff anymore. A little snake in the left ear, right? Leave it to me. I’ll notify you if I hear anything.”

“Thanks, Uncle Cong.” I had a great impression of him. Sure, he liked to brag, but he was genuine, always straightforward. I quite liked him. Unfortunately, we had to fly back to Chongqing the next day for school. But Uncle Cong promised that we could come work for him during summer break.

The next morning, we left Chengdu on an early flight. Uncle Cong didn’t see us off; it was just the three of us. The mood going back was completely different from when we arrived. On the way to Chengdu, all I could think about was how to deal with the female ghost. Now, my thoughts were consumed by how to get justice for her. Funny, isn’t it?

After returning, I knew I’d need to buckle down and properly practice talismans and ghost-subduing techniques. I realized that this world had far more ghosts than I’d imagined. Or rather, maybe it was because of my special constitution—being a Sichen, someone destined to see ghosts, and even attract them to me.

Back in Chongqing, the first thing I felt was a sense of nostalgia. We’d only been away for two days, but it still felt different. After stepping out of the airport, we grabbed a taxi straight to the police academy. Although we’d gotten Jin Xishan to help us get leave, the academy’s rules were super strict. Taking leave required following every formal procedure. What we’d done—just informing someone casually and leaving—was almost unheard of.

Unsurprisingly, when we got back, Brother Xiang and I got a good thrashing from Uncle Liu. Let me tell you, I don’t know about other police academies, but here, getting beaten isn’t considered illegal. Got beaten up? What? Gonna report the teacher? The teacher would just say, “Useless. Go beat them back!”

It’s like when I first arrived and saw two guys fighting. The teachers didn’t care as long as no one died or ended up disabled. A few broken bones? If they could be fixed, it was all fair game.

The teachers here were ridiculously violent, too. Say something they didn’t like, and you’d get a beating. Suddenly, I realized how gentle and nurturing my high school teachers had been—they were like gardeners, and those little red bills they handed out were so lovely. Back in high school, they taught us that smoking was bad for our health. Here in college, you’d better keep a stash of cigarettes to bribe the most violent teachers.

After getting whacked, our dorm pitched in to buy Uncle Liu a pack of smokes, and the matter was resolved.

That night, back in our dorm, Tailong curiously asked, “Hey, where’ve you two been the past couple days? I heard you went on a honeymoon with Han the Great Beauty. Not bad, huh, managing to snag that bombshell for a trip!”

“Honeymoon, my ass!” Brother Xiang and I couldn’t even begin to explain. Were we supposed to tell them we’d just saved the world?

Exhausted, we collapsed into bed. The next morning, Little Fatty told us he’d become a dorm manager. He’d run out of money recently—not that he’d starve, since there was a cafeteria and he had a meal card. But the guy couldn’t live without snacks, so he took up the dorm manager gig, which used to belong to some old man named Wang Laotou. The old man had fallen ill and was hospitalized. No teacher wanted to take over—it was only 500 yuan a month and required staying up all night.

Little Fatty took the job and proudly told us he could sneak people out to go online, charging five yuan per head. Of course, if something happened, we couldn’t rat him out. I thought, damn, that’s a sweet deal. And so began our LOL gaming journey.

The whole dorm joined in, plus Han Sifan. We formed a LOL full party and spent those days gaming all night, napping in class, and occasionally drawing talismans. Life couldn’t have been more chill. If wasting time was an art, we were definitely masters.

A month flew by just like that. By then, I’d almost forgotten what ghosts even looked like. That was when Jin Xishan invited us on a hiking trip—and nearly got us all killed.