He found the flatbread and was about to hand it to Samuel, but as he straightened his waist—crack!—he clutched his lower back and let out a miserable cry: “Damn it!”

Samuel hurried over to support him, saying, “Mr. Carter, take it easy—hey, why is your body so cold? Hmm, you must have been hunched over from ghost oppression for several days now, don’t try to stand up all at once…”

“Hunched over?” Daniel Carter repeated, a look of sudden realization on his face. “No wonder these past few days, whether I’m standing, sitting, or walking, my back has felt so heavy! So it was a ghost pressing on me!”

Samuel took the flatbread and wolfed down a few bites, finally feeling like his life had been snatched back. With his mouth still full, he asked:

“Mr. Carter, did you come to see my master this time to deal with the ghost oppressing you?”

“Oh, not exactly.” Daniel Carter pulled a tightly wrapped handkerchief from his sleeve.

“I came to Simu Temple this time to donate some incense money on someone’s behalf. An old friend of mine heard that the temple had fallen into disrepair, so he entrusted me to deliver a sum of incense money for its restoration. Here is a large gold bar, please accept it, little Daoist.”

He unfolded the handkerchief layer by layer, revealing a gold bar.

This thing was truly valuable!

That was a hefty sum for incense money!

Samuel quickly waved his hands politely: “Blessings from the Supreme Lord, Mr. Carter, your friend is being far too generous. I, a poor Daoist, cannot accept this money!”

At that moment, he truly believed that the “friend” David Carter mentioned was just a friend.

Daniel Carter looked rather like a cunning merchant, but his nature was actually quite genuine.

He didn’t stand on ceremony with Samuel, and directly stuffed the gold bar into the merit box.

After donating, he knelt and kowtowed to the statue of the Daoist Lord, muttering prayers, his rear end sticking up high.

He was clearly a very devout believer!

This filled Samuel with great comfort: what he’d said earlier about Daoism being a sunset industry was utter nonsense—this was clearly a time-honored and ever-prosperous profession!

Having accepted someone’s money, he had to do the job.

Samuel understood the rules.

So, as he ate his flatbread, he steered the conversation back to the earlier topic:

“So, Mr. Carter, how did you end up haunted by a ghost?”

This question seemed to trigger David Carter; his eyes widened, his spirits lifted, and he began to ramble on:

“Little Daoist, you and your master know me. Ever since I was appointed mayor of the old town by Charles Carter, I’ve always conducted myself uprightly. As the saying goes, ‘A straight body fears no crooked shadow, straight feet fear no twisted shoes’…”

He went on boasting, spittle flying, until Samuel frowned and said, “Mr. Carter, can we get to the point?”

It wasn’t that he lacked patience, but he was eating, and this guy’s spit was flying everywhere.

It was a bit off-putting.

What if David Carter had a Helicobacter pylori infection in his stomach?

David Carter swallowed and nodded, then cautiously asked, “Spirit writing—this planchette divination, little Daoist, are you familiar with it?”

Samuel hesitated.

He had certainly heard of spirit writing before; it was a traditional form of divination in Chinese metaphysics.

As the saying goes, “The unpredictable is called the divine”—spirit writing could divine the unknown, predict fortune and misfortune, and in ancient times was known as “oracle plate divination.”

But in the world he used to live in, there were no ghosts, so he couldn’t be sure if the spirit writing he knew was the same as what David Carter was talking about.

Seeing his hesitation, David Carter continued on his own: “Perhaps because the question I asked broke a taboo, this ghost latched onto me!”

“What did you ask?” Samuel prompted.

Chapter 003: Asking the Ghost

David Carter swallowed again. “What I asked was…”

“How can one become a ghost that retains the consciousness from their previous life!”

Samuel stared at him in a daze.

His face was pale, his eyes glazed—it was clear he was still shaken.

Samuel said, “That’s a pretty tricky question. Why would you ask something like that?”

David Carter gave an awkward laugh. “Heh, I, heh, I was just asking randomly.”

Samuel looked at him suspiciously.

He said he was asking randomly, but judging by his reaction, that was clearly not the case.

Samuel knew he was lying, and he knew that Samuel knew he was lying, and Samuel knew that he knew that Samuel knew he was lying, but he still kept lying.

So Samuel didn’t press further, knowing that continuing would get him nowhere.

Instead, he changed the question: “So, how did the spirit writing answer you?”

David Carter gave a bitter smile. “There was no answer. As soon as I asked, the plate shattered.”

Samuel understood: “The plate shattered, and that’s when the ghost latched onto you…”

“No.” David Carter shook his head. “I was unwilling to give up, so I got another plate and tried spirit writing again, but changed the question.”

“I asked: How can one, after death, avoid entering the underworld or reincarnating, and instead remain in the human world with their consciousness intact?”

Samuel was dumbfounded: Bro, you’re really determined! Are you seeking immortality or what?

He asked, “So, did the plate shatter again?”

David Carter shook his head again. “The plate didn’t break.”

“This time, the table holding the divination paper and the plate broke!”

Samuel couldn’t help but point at him and say, “Look at you—this is like a rat that’s learned bedroom arts trying to lick a cat’s butt—just finding new ways to get yourself killed! Or like a fat pig squeezing into a butcher’s outhouse—begging for death!”