The door was left half open. Although the sun was blazing outside, the room inside was dimly lit. I took a glance inside and, damn, I was nearly scared to death—there was actually someone hanging from the beam in the room!

That person was facing the doorway, dressed all in black. Even though the lighting was poor, I recognized at a glance who it was hanging there. If it wasn’t Old Smith, who else could it be?

Old Smith’s face was deathly pale, as white as paper, completely drained of color. Because he’d been strangled by hanging, his eyeballs bulged out like two pigeon eggs, glaring wide open, his face twisted in a mask of pain and agony.

What made it even more chilling was that he was actually grinning eerily! As if, right before he died, he’d thought of something amusing—his death looked truly bizarre.

I’ve never been particularly brave, and the moment I saw Old Smith’s terrifying, ghastly corpse, I was instantly shocked, my heart skipped a beat, and I almost screamed out loud like the landlady. I felt a cold chill run down my back, goosebumps breaking out all over me.

Chapter Two: Spirit Money

I thought to myself, it’s over—something really happened to Old Smith.

But what I couldn’t figure out was, how could Old Smith just die like that? And by hanging himself, no less! Did he have something he couldn’t get over? Or did he run into some insurmountable problem?

I was really puzzled. Just yesterday, we were playing mahjong together, and he didn’t seem troubled by anything. The only thing bothering him was that he’d lost all his money this month and didn’t know how to explain it to his family. But didn’t we find some money last night? That should have solved his financial problem, so why would he still commit suicide?

Could it be that after picking up the money, he felt guilty and ashamed, so he hanged himself out of remorse?

That seemed even more impossible. Old Smith wasn’t a bad guy, but he wasn’t exactly a saint either. If he really had that kind of conscience, he wouldn’t have insisted on picking up that money off the ground the night before.

I just couldn’t figure out what was really going on.

Honestly, aside from my confusion, I was scared out of my wits at that moment. But I forced myself to calm down, quickly told the panicked landlady to call the police, and then mustered up my courage to slowly walk into the room.

I carefully approached Old Smith. His shoes had fallen to the floor, and his feet were bare. I gently touched his foot—it was ice cold to the touch. My heart skipped a beat. I knew he’d been dead for a while, because his body was already stiff.

Thinking about how we were together just last night, that meant Old Smith must have died last night.

After touching him once, I didn’t dare touch him again, let alone untie him. I just waited for the police to arrive and let them handle everything.

At that moment, I looked around the room, and my brow furrowed. The floor was littered with coins—not real money, but spirit money printed with “Bank of Heaven and Earth”!

Seeing all that funeral money scattered everywhere, I felt a wave of dread. My pupils shrank, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Wasn’t this scene exactly the same as what I saw last night?

Last night, I saw Old Smith standing by my bed, tossing spirit money into the air, scattering it all over the floor. Then, suddenly, a hemp rope slipped around his neck. And now, wasn’t this the exact same scene? The floor was covered in spirit money, and Old Smith was hanging by a rope…

Holy shit! Did I really see a ghost last night?

Thinking about all this, I felt chills all over, goosebumps rising instantly. Honestly, I was so scared I nearly pissed myself. I immediately backed out of Old Smith’s room, cold sweat pouring down my face.

Of course, if Old Smith had just died, I would have simply mourned the loss of a friend. What really scared me was why everything was exactly the same as what I saw last night. Was it really a ghost, or was there some other reason?

This was just too strange. My mind was racing. Suddenly, I remembered last night when Old Smith was scattering money in my room. Even though the lighting was poor, I knew that money was the same cash we’d picked up by the roadside last night.

Suddenly realizing this, I was startled—could it be that the money we picked up was actually spirit money?

And last night, I even had a dream where I was holding a lot of money, but in the end, it all turned into spirit money.

Thinking about all this, I felt even more unsettled. I stood there in a daze for several minutes, my mind in chaos. It wasn’t until the landlady touched me that I snapped out of it.

The landlady said she’d already called the police and they’d be here soon.

I nodded. At that point, I couldn’t think about anything else. I immediately turned and rushed back to my own rented room—I had to check on the money we picked up last night.

Last night, I’d put the money in a metal box, and hadn’t looked at it since.