Chapter 10: “Who the Hell Said Debt Knife-Bearers Can’t Use Magic or Fight?”

---

“Master… can I… can I go see my father? I… I want to…” The ghost woman’s voice trembled.

Before she could finish, Tu Shanju pulled out a nail clipper from her pocket. “You can—but you’ll have to buy my blade on credit.”

The ghost froze, stunned. Her eyes widened as she stared at Tu Shanju. “You’re a debt knife-bearer?!”

Tu Shanju arched a brow slightly in confirmation.

The ghost’s heart lurched in shock. She’d been dead for years and had wandered the mortal world honing ghostly arts. Of course, she knew about the various factions in the mystical world.

Every sect had its own methods of cultivation and its own areas of expertise.

The most well-known orthodox sects were Quanzhen, Zhengyi, Maoshan, and Lüshan—all fairly famous.

Then there were the lesser-known ones, like Meishan, Qingwei, Shenxiao, Jinshan, Taiyidao, and Zhendao, many of which practiced niche mystical professions passed down through families.

For example:

• The Tomb Raiders, also known as Touch Gold Masters. Underground spaces were their domain. Even masters from the big sects had to invite one or two when doing tomb work.
• The Gu Masters, known for their poisonous Gu arts, especially the famous Miao-Xiang traditions.
• Others included the Debt Knife-Bearers, Corpse Fishers, and Village Guardians.

But in the mystical world, it was widely known that debt knife-bearers were the weakest of all sects—incapable of both magic and martial prowess.

Their only strength? Freakishly accurate divinations.

But that very strength made them untouchable.

Who didn’t have a weakness? If a debt knife-bearer revealed it through a reading, it could be fatal.

Their legacy went back through the ages—who knew how many debts people owed them? And those people weren’t nobodies either.

What’s more, the ghost had heard rumors…

That debt knife-bearers didn’t just keep ledgers in the mortal realm.

Some even said that many high-ranking officials in the underworld bore the surname Tu Shan.

Just thinking about that sent a shiver down her spine.

But what shocked her even more was this—

Who the hell said debt knife-bearers couldn’t fight or use magic?!

This woman had stopped a speeding sports car going over 100 km/h with a single slap—and easily dismantled her ghost techniques like they were nothing!

Even the top sect masters might not be able to pull that off!

The ghost woman snuck another quick glance at Tu Shanju.

Yup—rumors are crap.

No—rumors are deadly misleading!

As she thought this, she quickly bowed and respectfully took the nail clipper from Tu Shanju’s hand. “I accept the debt.”

Tu Shanju smirked slightly and nodded. She formed a charm with her fingers and flicked out a talisman, her fingers making a swift gesture over the ghost.

In the next instant, something incredible happened.

Even Xie Shiyu and the others had their pupils contract in awe.

The talisman in Tu Shanju’s hand turned into a visible golden light, shooting straight into the ghost’s body.

Tu Shanju opened her mouth calmly and spoke:

“The transaction is initiated. Apologize where it’s owed. Take revenge where it’s due. By the end of the midnight hour, go to the underworld and confess your sins.
Those you frightened into accidents—though none died—many were seriously injured. You bear that guilt.
Two hundred years of being run over by red sports cars—that’s your punishment.”

Before vanishing, the ghost left behind a single word:
“Thank you.”

And then, her spell vanished with her.

The thick white fog rapidly dissipated.

Everyone’s vision cleared.

Tu Shanju checked the time. Midnight was almost here.

In Chinese traditional timekeeping, midnight (“zi shi”) is divided into early zi shi (11 PM–12 AM) and late zi shi (12 AM–1 AM).

She had given the ghost a deadline: by the end of the midnight hour (1 AM), she must purge all obsessions and head to the underworld for punishment.

It was almost 11 now.

At midnight, the ghost gates open.
Restless spirits must not linger in the mortal world.

Tu Shanju turned and looked toward Zhang Huihui, who was still spectating beside Xie Jingting.

“Zhang Huihui, it’s midnight. You should reincarnate now.”

Everyone froze—and stared at Zhang Huihui.

Zhang Huihui looked blank. She pointed to herself. “Me?”

Tu Shanju casually pulled a small box from her pocket and dropped the pink lollipop stick inside. Calmly, she said:

“Ghosts are bound to the living world through their feet. After death, their feet disappear—they float, have no shadow or substance.”

Xie Jingting’s gaze dropped down to Zhang Huihui’s dress hem.

She had no feet. No shadow, either.

All three men gasped.
Xie Jingzhou instinctively pulled Xie Jingting back a few steps.

Even Xie Shiyu frowned.

No one had noticed this before!

Zhang Huihui looked down at her missing feet. Her face twisted in terror.

“AHHH!!! I—I’m dead?!”

Tu Shanju: “Mhm. Freshly dead. Still warm.”

Zhang Huihui: “……Then why didn’t I know I died?!”

Tu Shanju thought for a moment and answered, “Selective amnesia?”

Just then, the wail of sirens echoed nearby—a police car and an ambulance raced past.

Tu Shanju tilted her chin in that direction. “There. Your corpse just passed by.”

At those words, Zhang Huihui suddenly remembered everything.

She had died.

Hit by a semi-truck.

She had fought with her boyfriend—but he didn’t abandon her. She got out of the car in anger without looking behind her, and a big truck ran her down.

The scene had been horrific—she’d died on the spot.

But as her soul left her body, her last thought had been: If only I hadn’t acted so impulsively.

So after death, her mind suppressed that memory—she forgot the accident completely.

Then, for a couple of hours, she drifted near the road, seeing no cars… until Xie Jingting’s car passed by, its residual ghost energy drawing her in.

“Wait—but Sister-in-law, didn’t she just grab me earlier?” Xie Jingting asked.

Tu Shanju explained, “The female ghost’s yin energy was too strong. You were affected, and she piggybacked off that to temporarily materialize. Go on—try touching her now. Can you?”

Xie Jingting looked at Zhang Huihui. She looked back.

“Uh, no thanks! Haha.” Xie Jingting shook his head and waved his hands like crazy.

Zhang Huihui drooped like a wilted eggplant. “But… I can’t find the ghost gate. What do I do?”

Tu Shanju sighed, too lazy to answer. She pulled out a talisman, swiftly drew two strokes with her fingers—

And Zhang Huihui disappeared from sight.

Can’t find the ghost gate?

Then go to the Underworld’s mortal-realm service office instead.