A Spirited Business Deal

The old man, passing by Bai Wanwan, instinctively halted for a few seconds, their gazes locking. Despite his advanced age, and the fact that he and Bai Wanwan were strangers—making him, by all accounts, an elder—his eyes held a disconcerting blend of deference and terror. He looked at her as a small child might gaze upon a much taller adult, as if even a flicker of unkindness in Bai Wanwan’s eyes could send his aged frame trembling apart.

Of course, he feared Bai Wanwan; she had just hosted a deity. At this very moment, she radiated the most potent yang energy and divine presence in the entire hospital. After all, anyone found within a hospital’s walls, be it due to their physical constitution or their destined fate, invariably carried some inherent flaw. Even the family members of patients were no exception; their destinies, weakened by the suffering of their kin, were naturally more fragile than those of ordinary people. Such an environment was a haven for malevolent spirits unable to reincarnate, offering them a chance to prey on the vulnerable.

“Miss…”

Just as Bai Wanwan prepared to skirt around the old man, intending to follow Deng Shuqi toward the inpatient building, a voice suddenly halted her.

Bai Wanwan paused, her expression momentarily freezing. It was her first encounter with such a audacious spirit. She was well aware of his intentions, loitering within the hospital, yet she had no desire to entangle herself in karma, preferring to mind her own business. However, despite her disinterest, he had unexpectedly called out to her first. ‘Could he truly not discern the lingering traces of divine possession upon me?’ she wondered. Had it been any other ordinary person, responding to a ghost’s call and instinctively turning back would have, at the very least, shaved two years off their lifespan.

“The spirit money you carry, if I may be so bold, where did you acquire it?” The old man, supported by a paper figure youth, slowly made his way towards her.

“Spirit money?” Bai Wanwan’s brow furrowed. She couldn’t recall carrying any such thing. Then, with a moment of careful thought, it dawned on her: there was indeed a piece of yellow paper, folded into spirit money, tucked away in her pocket. The folding method was one her grandfather had taught her; she had merely been practicing, testing if her hands had grown rusty. This, after all, was slated to be one of the Rebirth Pavilion’s future products.

“Are you referring to this?” Bai Wanwan produced a piece of yellow spirit money from her pocket. At the sight of it, the old man’s eyes gleamed, as if he had stumbled upon a priceless treasure.

“Precisely! That’s the one. May I ask… where did you purchase it?”

“You’re taken with my spirit money?” Bai Wanwan was genuinely perplexed. To be frank, these items held little monetary value. In her youth, she had toiled alongside her grandfather, folding vast quantities from dawn till dusk, only for them to fetch a paltry sum. Beyond the intricate steps involved, Bai Wanwan often mused, ‘These offerings for the departed inevitably turn to ash in the end, so why bother with such elaborate procedures?’ Yet, her grandfather’s unsparing ruler was always the stern reply to her queries. After enduring a few chastisements, Bai Wanwan ceased her complaints, choosing instead to silently, diligently fold the spirit money.

“Indeed.” “My, my! Sir, you possess truly exceptional discernment!” Liu Hanzhi suddenly materialised beside them, causing the old man to jump in surprise. Ghosts, as a rule, were not easily startled—unless, of course, the one startling them was also a ghost…

“This is a product from our Rebirth Pavilion, though it’s not yet officially available for purchase. With your keen eye, you must have already discerned its true value, haven’t you?” Liu Hanzhi, assuming the persona of a sharp merchant, passionately presented the funerary item to the elderly gentleman. All the while, subtly, she positioned herself to shield Bai Wanwan, effectively creating a barrier between her and the old man.

The most astonished, however, were Deng Shuqi and Liu Guochang. Was Bai Wanwan actually drumming up business in broad daylight? How could they possibly know that the old man was, in reality, a deceased spirit, an ancient ghost unable to reincarnate? All they understood was that Bai Wanwan and Liu Hanzhi were undoubtedly astute businesswomen—bold and meticulous. Setting aside the ‘meticulous’ part for a moment, their audacity was truly astonishing. After all, it took considerable nerve to recommend funerary items to an elderly man who appeared to be on death’s door, right outside a hospital. Even casual passersby reacted with knitted brows, deliberately detouring a few steps to avoid the scene.

“This yellow spirit money is meticulously handcrafted, and currently, it’s a one-of-a-kind piece. If you desire it, the price is one hundred yuan.” Liu Hanzhi extended a slender finger, naming a sum that caused even affluent individuals like Liu Guochang and Deng Shuqi to inwardly flinch. ‘What could possibly make this item worth a hundred yuan?’ they wondered. ‘Who would buy it? He’s an old man, but not a fool. Master Bai’s power is undeniable, but this is hardly the way to conduct business.’

“Excellent! It’s a deal!” Just as Liu Guochang was on the verge of instructing Bai Wanwan on proper business practices and pricing strategies, the old man, with an excited flourish, produced a hundred-yuan banknote and extended it to Liu Hanzhi. He seemed to fear they might retract their offer.

A mere thin sheet of yellow paper, after a few folds, had generated a profit exceeding a thousand times its base cost. This sight utterly dumbfounded Liu Guochang; he felt as though all his past, formidable maneuvers in the business world were nothing more than a laughable charade.

“Thank you for your patronage. Should you require anything further, please don’t hesitate to contact our Rebirth Pavilion. We even stream live every night after eleven PM!” Liu Hanzhi, ever the opportunist, seized the chance to promote their livestream channel. After bidding farewell to the old man, she placed the hundred-yuan banknote into Bai Wanwan’s hand, winking playfully.

“Do you recall the moneymaking scheme I mentioned to you?” “Our funerary items are simply too valuable to be wasted on the living, who often don’t truly understand their purpose. We can absolutely profit from the deceased!” Liu Hanzhi murmured, her voice a low whisper, into Bai Wanwan’s ear.

“Profit from the deceased?” Bai Wanwan, initially puzzled, glanced at Liu Hanzhi and instantly grasped the concept. There were quite a number of spirits, like Liu Hanzhi, who found themselves unable to reincarnate. Some even blended into human society, securing jobs and generating income. Liu Hanzhi, for instance, earned her keep by fortune-telling at a stall and applying phone screen protectors. The elderly ghost they had just encountered was likely in a similar predicament… He possessed not only an aged, decaying physical form but also paper figure attendants, indicating significantly better circumstances than Liu Hanzhi’s. An aged, decaying body was still a tangible form, after all. If the population of such spirits was substantial, it implied that the creations Bai Wanwan produced held immense appeal for them. For example, the paper figures Bai Wanwan crafted, while only lasting about a week, offered an experience virtually indistinguishable from inhabiting a youthful body. For a modest sum, a spirit could obtain an excellent physical vessel for an entire week—what ghost wouldn’t be enticed by such an offer?

“Master Bai, do you typically handle funerary services?” Deng Shuqi, observing Bai Wanwan, recognized a prime opportunity to forge a closer connection between them.

“Indeed.” Bai Wanwan nodded, tucking the hundred-yuan note she had just earned into her bag, before following Deng Shuqi into the packed elevator of the inpatient building.

“Where do you primarily conduct your business? If the opportunity arises, I could certainly recommend you to acquaintances.” Deng Shuqi, still viewing the traditional folk industry through a conventional lens, presumed Bai Wanwan’s particular line of work wouldn’t be advertised ostentatiously. After all, those involved in such matters often prioritized auspiciousness.

However, Bai Wanwan’s subsequent words left not just Deng Shuqi, but everyone else in the elevator, utterly flabbergasted. “Online. We sell funerary items through live-streamed sales.” Bai Wanwan delivered this with unwavering confidence, yet it sent a chill down the spines of her listeners, who quickly concluded they were in the presence of a madwoman. They silently implored the elevator doors to open swiftly… ‘Though,’ one might have thought, ‘this little madwoman does seem rather endearing.’