All of a sudden, cold sweat kept pouring down my back. I hurriedly asked John Thompson, “Mr. Thompson, since you know so much, you must have a way to deal with this. Please, you have to save your little brother!”

But John Thompson seemed to have something he couldn’t say, hemming and hawing for a long time, unwilling to say more.

This made me even more anxious. I said, “Mr. Thompson, I really have no way out now. I’m counting on you to show me a way to survive. You can’t just watch me die!”

John Thompson sighed, looking a bit helpless, and said, “Little brother, it’s not that I don’t want to help you, it’s just… just that my method is a bit shady. If… if word gets out, it could cause big trouble.”

At this point, I couldn’t care less about whether it was shady or not—even if it was an immoral method, I had to hear it. So I said right away, “Mr. Thompson, just tell me, no matter what the method is, I absolutely won’t tell a third person.”

John Thompson was silent for a moment, then finally said to me, “I heard this method from a gentleman back in my hometown. He told me to throw the ghost money I picked up by the roadside and let someone else pick it up. That way, the bad luck would be transferred to another person. You know, doing this is basically harming an innocent person, but I had no choice either. For the sake of my own life, I could only do it. Sigh!”

Hearing this, I suddenly understood. I finally got why he was so hesitant to speak earlier—so this was the reason.

Seeing my shocked expression, John Thompson quickly said, “Little brother, I’m only telling you this. Whether you want to do it or not is up to you. Think it over carefully.”

After saying this, John Thompson didn’t want to say any more. He turned and left the neighborhood, no matter how much I called after him, he wouldn’t stop for even a moment.

After John Thompson left, I could only return to my rented place alone. Staring at that stack of ghost money in the room, I felt anxious and uneasy.

As night fell and dusk approached, I lay alone on the bed for who knows how long, constantly thinking about whether I should listen to John Thompson and throw the ghost money onto the street.

Right now, it was a multiple-choice question: A: throw the ghost money onto the street and find some unlucky soul to die in my place; B: be that unlucky soul myself and meet my end.

I thought it over and let out a long sigh. Although harming others made me feel a bit guilty, when I thought about it being either someone else dying or me dying, I couldn’t care that much anymore. After all, I’m not Lei Feng. For me to choose B, unless my brain had really been kicked by a donkey.

I may not be a bad person, but I’m definitely not Lei Feng either. I don’t have that kind of “if I don’t go to hell, who will?” bravado, because everyone who did that is dead, and I don’t want to die. When facing death, there are only two options, and I really don’t have the courage to just sit and wait for it. Since I can clearly choose A, why would I be so stupid as to choose B?

Having made up my mind, I decided that tonight I would throw that ghost money by the roadside and let some unlucky person become my scapegoat. At the same time, I comforted myself, saying it wasn’t my fault—blame yourself, who told you to be so greedy and pick up money?

That night, I waited until around eleven o’clock, then took the ghost money and went out, heading straight to the intersection where I had picked up the money before.

To make sure someone would pick up the ghost money, I even put it in a wallet, and placed two real bills on each side of the ghost money. Usually, people who pick up money are guilty and don’t dare to check carefully. If they see real money on the outside, they’ll most likely grab it and run.

Although this was a bit immoral, I had no choice if I wanted to survive.

When I got to the intersection, there were already very few pedestrians on the street, only two or three cars in sight. When those cars drove off into the distance, I immediately threw the ghost money by the roadside, then turned and ran back.

I ran all the way back to my rented place, my heart pounding wildly. I didn’t know if it was from exhaustion or from guilt over what I’d done.

Once inside, I immediately locked the door, then lay down on the bed, trying to calm myself.

To be honest, after doing this, I felt very complicated inside. I felt both guilty and as if a weight had finally been lifted from my heart, like I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. These two feelings were very conflicting—on one hand, my fear was gone, but on the other, my conscience was uneasy.

I kept comforting my conscience, telling myself it wasn’t my fault, I had no choice. This is a world where the weak are prey to the strong. If I didn’t do this, I’d be the one to die. I had no choice.

Of course, I was still very confident in John Thompson’s method. I believed that as long as I got rid of the ghost money, I should be fine. After all, there were five people who picked up the money with John Thompson, and the other four all died half a month ago—only he was still alive and well. That’s the strongest proof. In other words, if John Thompson’s method didn’t work, he should have died half a month ago.