Chapter Six: Classification of Ghosts

Liu Jun picked up the ox tear and dropped two drops into his own eyes. Many people who watch Director Zhou’s films think the ox tear is blue. Actually, that’s not true—the ox tear, like human tears, is transparent. After applying it, he didn’t feel anything special; he had expected a dazzling flash, like the golden gleam from Monkey King’s fiery eyes.

The wind chime by the door jingled softly. It was an antique-looking piece, with small bronze discs on top and three strings hanging below, each with seven bronze rings. It wasn’t exactly beautiful, but rather seemed like an old artifact. What was peculiar about this wind chime was that no matter how strong the wind blew during the day, Liu Jun had never heard it ring. He had even thought it was a mute chime.

Liu Jun had once asked the old man what this wind chime was called, and the old man mysteriously told him to guess. After looking at it for a while, Liu Jun said confidently, “It’s called the 'Don’t Care.'” The old man was immediately enchanted.

“Don’t Care? Why so?”

“Look here—three strings, each with seven rings, three times seven equals twenty-one. There’s a saying, isn’t there? ‘Don’t care about three seven twenty-one.’ So, this chime is called Don’t Care,” Liu Jun explained.

“You’re hopeless!” the old man snapped angrily and walked away without telling him the real name.

The wind chime kept jingling softly by the door. It must be said, the sound was quite pleasant, and after all this time, it never felt annoying.

“Miss Mo Li, what’s the name of that wind chime at our door? What’s it for? I’ve humbly asked the old man, but he wouldn’t tell me,” Liu Jun asked.

“It’s not that Master Li didn’t want to tell you; you probably just made him angry,” Mo Li smiled.

“Haha, no, no. That old man just has a bad temper,” Liu Jun replied awkwardly. Apparently, Mo Li knew about his ‘three seven twenty-one’ guess.

“That wind chime is called the Volcano Bell. See, three strings with seven bronze rings each—in Yi Jing philosophy, three represents Li, seven represents Gen. Together, three seven form the Hexagram of Fire on Mountain. And those two golden plaques at the door are called Ze Di plaques. Two plaques, each with eight characters; two represents Dui, eight represents Kun, two eight is the Hexagram of Marsh on Earth. The Volcano Bell has two functions: to alert customers that the shop is open and to detect ghostly energy, warning us when a customer arrives. As for the Ze Di plaques, they protect the premises and improve the auspicious energy of the place.”

Mo Li didn’t dwell on Liu Jun’s mishap of angering the old man and patiently explained the wind chime’s significance. She even introduced the two golden plaques at the door as a sort of buy-one-get-one bonus. Honestly, if Mo Li hadn’t explained their purpose, Liu Jun would have thought the old man’s taste was just a bit eccentric—hanging two golden plaques to show off his wealth.

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“Master Li’s idea is for me to teach you for a while first, then he’ll take over. If you don’t understand something, you can ask me. But you mainly need to practice courage and broaden your knowledge first,” Mo Li said as she placed an incense burner on the counter, lighting a stick of incense and placing it upright.

“Alright, alright. I think I’m pretty brave already; no need to practice. As for knowledge, I can’t claim to have mastered the classics thoroughly, but I did graduate from nine years of compulsory education without issue,” Liu Jun said, thinking to himself: With my courage, I could spend a night in a graveyard and probably play poker with a couple of ghosts. As for knowledge, I haven’t yet found any gaps in my education.

“Here are a few books. Take a look and ask me if you don’t understand. There aren’t many customers in the shop at night, so you can read then,” Mo Li said, handing Liu Jun a stack of books.

Liu Jun flipped through them: Dao De Jing, Nan Hua Jing, Yi Jing, Bao Pu Zi, “On Thirty-Six Types of Ghosts,” “On Deceiving Ghosts,” “On How to Escape When You Can’t Defeat Ghosts”??? What’s this nonsense? Three question marks popped into his head. The first four were familiar Daoist classics, but the last few—what kind of material is this? Was he in the wrong place?

“The first few are basic Daoist texts; the rest were written by Master Li himself. You should read them; they might be useful,” Mo Li said uncertainly, avoiding his gaze as if the counter held some priceless treasure.

Heh, that old man—the kinds of ghosts he tolerates, the idea of running away when beaten is one thing, but deceiving ghosts? What kind of operation is that? An old man so serious yet so unreliable. Liu Jun chuckled to himself and picked up the book on ghost types first. If these really existed, at least he’d know which kind of ghost he was kneeling before.

Opening the book, it read:

“This book is purely hand-drawn from the great Master Qing Fengzi’s experience, for reference only. If you follow this book’s advice to the letter, we accept no responsibility. Counterfeiters will be prosecuted.”

Heh, that old man even calls himself great—shameless! Liu Jun mocked the old man inwardly and flipped to the second page.

The second page stated: Humans have human aura; ghosts have ghostly aura. Six kinds of ghostly aura correspond to six categories of ghosts.

White ghost aura: Usually newborn ghosts, confused at birth, low resentment, minimal harm. If you don’t harm them, consider yourself lucky.

Gray ghost aura: Ordinary ghosts usually have this aura, low resentment, low harm—basically, if you don’t provoke them, they won’t provoke you, though a few mischievous ones exist. These ghosts are generally queued up waiting to go to the underworld. Like humans, most people cause some trouble before they leave the world.

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Yellow ghost aura: These ghosts usually died from or are related to wealth. Their resentment and harm levels can vary. If you encounter one, be cautious. Don’t assume golden radiance means they are benevolent—they might be sending you to meet Buddha.

Black ghost aura: Often ghosts who died from illness or depression. Generally low resentment and harm. Many officials and ghost guards in the underworld also have black ghost aura. So if you meet a ghost with black aura, observe carefully; don’t rush to grab it. If it turns out to be a ghost guard, who captures whom is uncertain.

Red ghost aura: Mostly vengeful ghosts, extremely resentful, highly harmful. Without strong skills, it’s best to avoid them. Ordinary ghosts rarely fake red aura to scare others; don’t gamble with it.

Cyan ghost aura: Strictly speaking, these aren’t ghosts but ghost immortals. They possess powerful magic, can take human form, and appear briefly during the day. Their resentment can be nonexistent or sky-high. As for harm, novices are doomed, intermediates barely escape, experts might hold out, and the godlike top masters? It’s anyone’s guess.

At that moment, the wind chime jingled again.

“A customer’s arrived,” Mo Li said.

Liu Jun looked up as a cold gust blew in, carrying a gray mist that drifted inside and slowly took shape before the counter in the form of a human figure.

By then, Liu Jun’s mind had gone blank. Though brave and accepting of ghosts’ existence, seeing one in reality was an entirely different feeling—terrifying as hell. Deep breaths, deep breaths—I must calm down. It’s a gray ghost, so it shouldn’t harm me. I’m not afraid of ghosts; if it tries to hurt me, the old man will surely come to save me. Liu Jun didn’t know where his confidence came from, thinking that if something really happened, the old man would rescue him—completely forgetting how often he annoyed the old man before.

Struggling to steady his nerves and control his trembling, he stared at the gray ghost before the counter.