Chapter 26: Haunted House Cleaner (Monthly Votes Requested)

"Why is it already seven o'clock?"

Ji Yun had been browsing forums on his phone, and when he finally realized the time, he was stunned. Had he really been reading all night?

Despite his mind being packed with a deluge of new information, he didn't feel groggy; on the contrary, he felt incredibly sharp.

A sudden realization struck him: "Wait, could this be the supernatural ability granted by the Coffin of the Ghost Gate?"

After everything that had happened last night—the shock and the terror—he should have been exhausted. Adding an all-nighter of high-intensity information absorption on top of that, he ought to have been even more drained. Yet, he could clearly feel that his consciousness was exceptionally clear. This abnormal state could only be a result of merging with the cursed object.

The die was cast, so Ji Yun didn't bother dwelling on whether it was good or bad. He looked around the empty room and muttered, "Has Sister Hualing not returned yet?"

Just as he thought this, a text message came through: "Little Brother Ji, I have an urgent mission today and likely won't be back during the day. I ordered takeout for you. By the way, wake up your Third Uncle and make sure he eats breakfast~"

Ji Yun raised an eyebrow at the message and replied, "Oh. Got it. Stay safe."

Hualing replied quickly: "Okay~"

Putting down his phone, Ji Yun got out of bed and stretched. The morning air was refreshing, clearing his head. Not long after, he heard the delivery driver knocking. As soon as he opened the door, he nearly tripped over beer bottles scattered everywhere.

His Third Uncle was still dead to the world on the sofa. His snoring, like a rhythmic saw, echoed like thunder throughout the office. Ji Yun stepped over the piles of beer crates, opened the door to take the food, and turned back to shout, "Third Uncle!"

Though they hadn't seen each other for years, Ji Yun still felt a deep affection for this uncle, who had always brought him novel gadgets from the city whenever he visited their hometown. He called out a few more times, but his uncle on the sofa remained completely unmoved.

"Third Uncle, time for breakfast."

When shouting didn't work, Ji Yun tried shaking him. The man didn't respond; instead, he buried his face further into the sofa, showing no intention of waking up. He had clearly drunk a great deal; as he shifted, a wave of alcohol fumes hit Ji Yun’s senses. Realizing he couldn't wake him, Ji Yun gave up. He brought the steaming buns inside and ate his own breakfast.

It was only seven-thirty when he finished. Ji Yun walked out of his room. The lighting had been poor the night before, so he hadn't seen clearly, but now with the morning sun streaming through the windows, he saw the mess the office was in.

It was Sunday, so there was no rush to head to school. With nothing else to do, and treating his uncle's place as his own, he found a mop and broom in the bathroom and began cleaning up the trash.

It had probably been years since the place was last cleaned. Aside from the paths frequently walked upon, the floor tiles were buried under thick layers of dust. Ji Yun packed the beer bottles into crates, stacking them neatly by the door to take to the recycling station once he was done. There were dozens of crates—if not more. He opened the windows and started filling large black trash bags. The deep clean took several hours.

...

"Phew... finally, that's about done."

Ji Yun collapsed onto the sofa he had just wiped clean. Looking at the now-organized office, he finally felt satisfied. He checked the time; it was already one in the afternoon. He still didn't feel sleepy; his energy remained high.

Sitting on the sofa, he picked up the business card on the table again. It was his uncle's. Printed on it was a rare title: "Spirit House Purifier."

In rural folk funeral customs, two professions were indispensable: the coffin shop his family owned, and his uncle's profession—a Yin-Yang Master. They were the practitioners who, after someone passed away, were responsible for leading the funeral rites, selecting auspicious burial sites, and picking lucky times. Just like the coffin shop, it was a sunset industry in the modern era. His uncle's free-spirited personality couldn't hold down such a traditional job, so he had moved to the city years ago.

Ji Yun had never known what his uncle actually did, but now he understood: he was essentially a "haunted house cleaner." It was a fitting profession. Before yesterday, he would have thought his uncle was just an ordinary Yin-Yang Master. But after last night, he felt a mysterious filter had been placed over his uncle as well.

Just then, a phone began to ring—*ding, ding, ding*. It rang for a long time, but his uncle didn't answer. Then it rang again. And hung up. It rang for a third time. Perhaps annoyed by the noise, his uncle turned over, burying the phone underneath himself. Ji Yun watched from afar as his uncle's drowsiness battled against the persistent ringtone.

He figured that anyone calling four times in a row must have an urgent matter. But if the phone couldn't wake him, he certainly couldn't either. Just as Ji Yun was debating whether to answer it for him, the phone rang a fifth time.

This time, seemingly annoyed, his uncle fumbled for the phone with his eyes still closed, pressed the answer button, and held it to his ear.

The next instant, the phone sounded as if it were on speaker, and a woman's sharp roar erupted: "You old drunkard! Do you have any idea what time it is? Where are you? Don't tell me you're drunk again! Didn't I tell you there was a big job today? Damn it, get over here! The client is already waiting! If you mess up this big job like you did the last one, I... I'll kill you, you dead drunk! Get up, do you hear me..."

"..."

Ji Yun’s eyelids twitched. Even from several meters away, he could feel the fury on the other end. It sounded like his uncle's business partner; they had a job scheduled for one-thirty. Ji Yun checked the phone—it was already one-ten.

Hearing the roar, his uncle seemed to finally remember the business at hand. His drunkenness vanished instantly. He sat up abruptly, his bloodshot eyes staring at the time, and let out a startled cry: "One o'clock?!"

Then, turning his head, he looked at the clean, tidy office—familiar yet strange—and looked around in confusion. "Where the hell did you bring me?"

Ji Yun was speechless. He called out, "Third Uncle."

It was the same familiar uncle—scruffy, unreliable, and unkempt, but very close to him. The uncle and nephew stared at each other for a few seconds. Ji Huachuan's brain seemed to reboot after the blackout, and he recognized him: "Little Yun?"

Ji Yun nodded.

Ji Huachuan asked uncertainly, "Where is this?"

Ji Yun reminded him, "The office."

Ji Huachuan gave him a bewildered look, then scanned the office—which had been filled with beer crates but was now empty and clean—with an expression that suggested he was still dreaming. He was awake, but not quite.

Ji Yun knew what that suspicious look meant and added, "I just did some cleaning."

Ji Huachuan finally realized, then asked in surprise, "Kid, why are you here?"

"I arrived last night," Ji Yun replied.

"Last night?"

Having blacked out from drinking, Ji Huachuan had no memory of it. Ji Yun knew explaining it wouldn't work, so he said straight out, "My parents are missing. They wrote me a letter telling me to find you."

"Missing, what?"

Before Ji Huachuan could say more, the phone rang again: "Old drunkard, where are you!!!"

His uncle answered the phone and lied without blushing: "I'm on my way! Almost there!" He hung up, grabbed his leather jacket and a cold bun from the sofa, and prepared to dash out the door. Just as he reached the entrance, he seemed to remember something and turned his head to ask, "Little Yun, do you have a driver's license?"

Ji Yun didn't know why he was asking, but replied, "Yes. I just got it last month." College students were experts at collecting certifications. Whether they were useful or not, they got them first.

Hearing this, Ji Huachuan immediately changed his plan: "Let's go! Come with me."

...

Five minutes later, in the underground garage.

Ji Yun sat in a brown Santana that was older than he was. Driving for the first time since leaving driving school, he sat in the driver's seat. His unreliable uncle had had his license revoked for drunk driving and, in a rush to get to the job, had no choice but to draft his novice nephew as his chauffeur.

In the passenger seat, Ji Huachuan stuffed a cold bun into his mouth while giving muddled directions: "Quick! Go to Dong'ai Second Road."

"But..."

"Oh, we're going to be late! This is a big job; if we mess it up, I'll be starving for the rest of the half-year."

"..."

Ji Yun hadn't touched a steering wheel since leaving driving school. Now, forced into the driver's seat, he bit the bullet and turned the key. Fortunately, once he got a feel for the old Santana, he picked it up quickly. As soon as they pulled out of the garage, Ji Yun felt strangely proficient.

Ji Huachuan noticed it too and praised, "Yo, kid, you're a pretty good driver."

"..."

Ji Yun found it strange himself. His driving skills should have been at the level of just passing a test, yet now he felt like a veteran driver, with no sense of awkwardness.

Ji Huachuan devoured a few more buns, then scrambled to take off his leather jacket and reached into the backseat for his "work tools." He threw on a stained yellow Taoist robe and put on a black *bagua* cap. In an instant, he transformed from a scruffy middle-aged man into a professional-looking expert.

His uncle wasn't a Taoist; this was just his work attire. Out of the corner of his eye, Ji Yun saw his uncle changing in the passenger seat and realized that after years of not seeing him, he had aged a lot. However, the Ji family all had sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, and those who were free-spirited possessed a certain aura—the kind of "handsome old man" charm that would surely be warmly welcomed by older ladies at square dances.

As they were driving, the phone rang again. Ji Huachuan didn't even dare to answer it. He shamelessly complained, "Little Yun, why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"I did," Ji Yun said softly. "You wouldn't wake up."

"..."

Ji Huachuan had no memory of it and sulkily gave up. Before they could chat more, the urging calls came one after another. Having overslept, he took the scolding without a word of complaint. He didn't even dare to pick up the phone again, instead constantly urging Ji Yun to floor the gas pedal. Only a nerve-dead uncle like his would dare to push a novice nephew to drive his old Santana like a race car. One dared to sit, and one dared to drive.

...

The distance from Chunfu Road to Dong'ai Second Road wasn't far, but by the time Ji Yun arrived, it was already one-fifty. They were twenty minutes late.

The Santana stopped in front of a commercial-residential building covered in scaffolding for exterior renovations. Before the car had even come to a complete stop, Ji Huachuan bolted out. He grabbed several cloth bags from the trunk and tossed two to Ji Yun: "Quick! Help me carry these. Follow me!"

Ji Yun didn't know what he was doing there, but he followed along with the bags, feeling completely bewildered.

Entering the building, several cars were already parked there. Ji Yun immediately noticed a noble-looking, charming middle-aged woman standing next to an imported Mercedes, accompanied by a driver, a secretary, and other attendants.

Seeing them, Ji Huachuan instantly shed his scruffy demeanor. His gait became steady, hurried but not chaotic—the aura of a Feng Shui master appeared instantly. He walked straight toward the noble woman. While looking her up and down, he spoke: "Madam, I apologize for keeping you waiting. I went to the Baiyun Temple on Longming Mountain in the western suburbs early this morning to find this superior 'incense ash' damp with morning dew. Unfortunately, I got caught in traffic coming back to the city, which is why I am late."

The noble woman didn't seem upset. A graceful, elegant smile played on her lips: "Mr. Ji, thank you for the trouble."

Hearing this, Ji Huachuan perked up: "Not at all. If you take someone's money, you must do the job well."

As he spoke, he stepped up to her, suddenly changed the subject as if he had discovered something, and let out a soft "Oh... Ms. Xu, your complexion is muddy with a hint of red, suggesting a malevolent influence in the southeast. May I ask if you've been feeling soreness in your shoulders and neck, or a lack of energy lately?"

The woman's eyes lit up: "Yes, actually. I just arrived in Jianghua these past few days, and I'm not used to the hotel pillows."

"This isn't a problem with the pillows," Ji Huachuan shook his head. He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her figure in the tight-fitting skirt before settling on her delicate hands. "Madam, if you don't mind, may I see your palm?"

The woman gave a charming smile and extended her hand: "Of course. Please, Mr. Ji."

Ji Huachuan took her hand immediately, kneading and rubbing it, and launched into a stream of flattery: "Oh, I haven't seen such a good palm in a long time. The Life Line hides a pearl, the end of the Fortune Line has a hook—this is what the 'Ma Yi Xiang Fa' calls 'Water Form, Gold Bone.' It signifies vast wealth and a smooth career... truly a top-tier palm for wealth."

The woman seemed pleased, though she remained poised, smiling elegantly: "I'll take your word for it." Her eyes crinkled with a smile as she asked, "But... I've felt my career hasn't been going smoothly lately. Could you help me see what the problem is, sir?"

Ji Huachuan didn't let go of her hand, inspecting it as if he could see the problem at a glance: "It's just a minor issue."

The woman raised an eyebrow: "Oh?"

Ji Huachuan pointed to the dark green beads on her pale wrist: "You've strung this Seven-Treasure Sandalwood bracelet incorrectly. The items are good, and the beads are antique. But the seven stars are inverted, attracting the malevolent energy of the Broken Army star. You also used the wrong gold thread, disrupting the flow of the spirit wood that gathers wealth. That’s what’s been causing your recent discomfort and minor career hiccups. However, external objects are just that—external. Your own destiny is one of great wealth; you wouldn't truly be affected by such small things, just a bit of annoyance..."

A strange light flickered in the woman's eyes, and she exclaimed: "Ah? No wonder. A friend gave this to me. The string broke earlier, and I re-strung it with gold thread myself. I didn't expect I had done something so foolish..." She looked up, asking sincerely: "Mr. Ji, what should I do?"

Ji Huachuan waved his hand: "Just take it off and let me re-string it for you."

...

Ji Yun watched from a short distance, witnessing his uncle resolve the taboo of being late with nothing but his silver tongue. The woman was not only unbothered but held his hand for a long time, chatting away happily. Then, she got in her car and left.

In the large garage, only the Santana and the two of them remained. This made Ji Yun admire his uncle even more. His uncle was indeed a man of great skill.

However, what Ji Yun didn't know was that inside the Maybach that had just driven off, a handsome fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy was sitting. He hadn't gotten out, but he had seen everything. As soon as the car drove away, the boy said indignantly, "Aunt Ruan, that guy is clearly a con artist. His complexion is dark, he smells like alcohol—it's obvious he just woke up from a bender last night, and he lied about going outside the city early in the morning. Hmph, not a word of truth came out of his mouth. Why did you hire him?"

Hearing this, the noble woman smiled: "Yudie, don't judge him by his lack of professionalism. He actually has quite a bit of skill. Otherwise, the intermediary wouldn't have recommended him to me." She played with the bracelet she had taken off and added, "Besides, I intentionally re-strung these beads incorrectly. The fact that he could see the problem shows he has a sharp eye."

The boy still looked at him with disdain: "If you do this for a living, you're bound to know a little something. Besides, Aunt Ruan, you're destined for wealth anyway; do you really need him to look at it? I think he was just trying to take advantage of you. The Taoist robe couldn't hide the sleazy, oily vibe coming off that guy..."

The woman didn't deny being taken advantage of, and the smile on her face didn't fade. She just said, "Before I came to Jianghua, I heard that this man is greedy for alcohol and women, and is free-spirited. Yet, he has no interest in power or wealth. Otherwise, with his silver tongue and his secret Feng Shui techniques, he wouldn't be where he is now..."

The boy looked even more annoyed: "Aunt Ruan, you don't actually believe that con man's nonsense, do you?"

The woman didn't explain further, her beautiful eyes sparkling: "Regardless... he really is quite an interesting person."

...

On the other side, Ji Yun finally understood what this job was about. His uncle’s profession was "Haunted House Purifier," and this Jing'an Building was a haunted house.