Chapter Twenty-Six: The Ghost Car

That night, no other ghosts or spirits came knocking. Liu Jun spent the entire night practicing talismans, while the fatty slept through it, clutching his copy of the Diamond Sutra. As for the little white fox, it nibbled on the wooden armchair for a while before drifting off to sleep as well.

At the first light of dawn, Mo Li returned to the second floor. Liu Jun woke the fatty up, grabbed the white fox, and headed out for breakfast. The stall was run by a middle-aged couple; it wasn’t exactly gourmet, but it was clean. They sat down with some soy milk and fried dough sticks.

"Brother Liu, do you have any room left? I want to move in with you," the fatty asked.

"I have the space, but why move out? Isn't your place quite large?" Liu Jun remembered that the fatty’s family was well-off, living in a duplex. He couldn't figure out why he wanted to leave.

"It’s big, but there’s no place for me there. My parents are constantly pushing me to find a partner; they want grandchildren. But look at me—where am I supposed to find one? They nag me every single day, so I just want to get out." It was understandable; as children, parents hope for good grades, then for success, and once you're mature, they just want you to marry and have kids.

"Sure, I’ve got a spare room. You can move in."

"Brother, you’re a stand-up guy! I’ll toast you with this soy milk." With that, he grabbed the little fox’s bowl and downed it in one gulp, which made the little fox so furious its fur stood on end. It looked ready to leave a tooth mark on the fatty at any moment. As for his own bowl, he had already finished it. Liu Jun had to order a fresh cup of soy milk for the little fox to calm it down.

"Speaking of which, don't you have someone you like? Why not go find someone?" Liu Jun asked curiously.

"I’ve liked people, sure, but it always ends before it even starts," the fatty continued. "Back in high school, I liked our class beauty. I thought I’d set her voice as my morning alarm so I could hear her every day. But after a while, every time I heard her voice, I just wanted to punch her." Such is the power of morning grumpiness.

"In college, I liked this girl. After we’d been seeing each other for a while, I gave her a couple’s shirt, and she accepted it."

"That sounds good, right? That means she was interested in you," Liu Jun said, puzzled.

"Good? Hardly. The next day, I wore my matching shirt to pick her up downstairs, and I saw her mother walking out of the building wearing the exact same shirt," the fatty lamented.

Oh my goodness. The fatty’s tragic love life was so awkward, yet Liu Jun couldn't help but want to laugh. He suppressed a chuckle and comforted him, "It’s okay, you’ll find someone better later."

After breakfast, they dropped the white fox off at home and parked the electric scooter. Liu Jun then followed the fatty to his house to pack. The fatty owned a Mitsubishi Pajero—a wide, rugged SUV that suited him perfectly. After packing his belongings and making a quick call to his mother, they left.

Back at the house, they settled into their rooms. The fatty was a slob, throwing his clothes on the floor instead of using the wardrobe. Liu Jun didn't bother with him; he cleaned up and went to sleep.

He slept until nine in the evening and then called for the fatty to head out. The fatty dawdled, so Liu Jun went to rush him. He found the fatty standing there, looking bewildered, holding a pair of underwear riddled with holes. The pair he was wearing also had several holes, with bits of flesh bulging through.

"Brother Liu, do you have mice?" the fatty asked. Liu Jun fell silent; he figured it was the little fox getting revenge for the stolen soy milk. He went over to lecture the fox—of all things to chew on, why underwear? Didn't it mind the smell?

After the chaos, it was ten o'clock. They finally set off, with the fatty driving toward the shop. On the road, they encountered a black Santana sedan. It looked like an old model, and it didn't have a license plate. The car accelerated to overtake them, then slowly decelerated, maintaining a speed of about thirty or forty kilometers per hour.

The fatty tried to accelerate to pass, but the Santana consistently blocked their path. "What the hell? Is this guy crazy? Driving a Santana and acting like a road hog," the fatty cursed.

Finally, a gap opened up on the right. The fatty stepped on the gas and squeezed through, overtaking the sedan.

"Brother Liu, do you think a Santana could have an autonomous driving system, like a Tesla?" the fatty asked.

"Nonsense, of course not."

"Then get your bull’s tears and talismans ready. We might have run into a ghost."

"Are you saying that Santana is driving itself?"

"Exactly," the fatty said, watching the car through the rearview mirror while driving.

Liu Jun rummaged through his bag: bull’s tears, thunder talismans, five-thunder talismans, golden body talismans, and... a carrot? *Huh? A carrot? When did the little fox stuff that in there?*

Liu Jun applied the bull’s tears to his own eyes and the fatty’s. He looked back at the Santana. Good heavens—it was just a paper model, a funeral offering. Inside, a man sat in the driver's seat with hollow eyes, his face ghastly pale and devoid of expression.

"Fatty, cut him off!" The fatty swerved as instructed. He expected to force the Santana to a stop, but the car flickered like a glitching film and instantly appeared further ahead, continuing its slow crawl.

They followed cautiously, not daring to cut it off again. The Santana led them into an old residential complex and parked under an old apartment building, sitting perfectly still.

"Brother Liu, are we going to exorcise it?" the fatty asked.

"Do you have an addiction to catching ghosts? Let’s wait and see. This ghost has grey aura mixed with a bit of black, which means he likely died of an illness. There’s no malice or resentment, so he hasn’t hurt anyone." They sat in the car, observing.

Liu Jun called Mo Li to tell her they’d found a regular ghost and wanted to see what it was up to before heading over. Mo Li didn't object, only warning him to run if he encountered any real danger.

Just as they were about to fall asleep, a young woman carrying a child walked toward the old building.

"Fatty, look!"

"Brother Liu, have some decency! That’s a noble mother carrying her child. You’re not going to target her, are you?" the fatty said, rubbing his eyes.

"Damn it, look where I’m pointing! What are you thinking? Look at the ghost!" Liu Jun snapped.

The ghost looked ecstatic. It drifted toward the woman, circling her anxiously, as if trying to say something. But death is final; the worlds of the living and the dead are separate. No matter how anxious the ghost was, the woman couldn't hear him.

When the woman went upstairs, the ghost stood there, looking pitiful. Liu Jun and the fatty got out of the car and walked behind it. The ghost stood for a moment, then slowly drifted back to its paper Santana, ignoring them as if it assumed they couldn't see it.

"Do you have an unfulfilled wish? Why haven't you reported to the Underworld instead of lingering in the world of the living?" Liu Jun asked calmly.

The ghost turned, looking surprised. "You can see me? You're talking to me?"

Liu Jun nodded.

"If I tell you, will you help me?" the ghost hesitated.

"What’s your name? Tell us what’s wrong. Once it's settled, go straight to the Underworld. If you run into anyone else who can see you, they won't be as polite as us," Liu Jun replied.

"My name is Li Ming. I was rushing a project recently and worked overtime for two days straight. I died of sudden cardiac arrest while waiting at a red light on my way home. My wife doesn't have a job; the family depended entirely on me. I hid a bank card under the bed, and the password is my wife’s birthday. It has all the money I’ve saved over the years. But I died so suddenly, she doesn't even know the card exists."

"Alright, we understand. We’ll go tell your wife." Liu Jun and the fatty headed toward the stairs. Just as they were about to climb, Liu Jun paused. *Wait, which floor?*

"Fourth floor, 402," the ghost said, noticing Liu Jun’s hesitation. *Well, at least this guy is considerate.*

They reached 402 and knocked. Liu Jun stepped back slightly so he could be seen through the peephole.

"Who is it?" a woman’s voice asked, filled with caution. It was understandable—her husband had just passed away, and she was alone with her child. A man knocking at midnight would be suspicious.

"You must be Li Ming’s wife. I’m a friend of his. Before he passed, he asked me to tell you that there’s a card hidden under the bed. You should check it." The footsteps behind the door faded; she was likely going to look for the card. They waited quietly.

A moment later, the door opened. A gaunt woman with tear-stained cheeks stood there. "I found the card. Thank you for telling me. Won't you come in?"

"No need. The password is your birthday. Don't be too sad—if you collapse, what will happen to your child? We’ll be going now." Liu Jun turned and left. It wasn't appropriate for them to linger.

Downstairs, the ghost thanked them, and Liu Jun had the fatty use the Buddhist *Ksitigarbha Soul-Crossing Sutra* to send him off. He didn't have a soul-crossing talisman on him, and he didn't know how to weave the necessary hand seals.