Last night was a long and restless one. Tossing and turning in bed, I couldn’t sleep a wink. Early in the morning, I rushed to catch the earliest bus from town to Jiangcheng. My mother fried me five eggs for breakfast. After eating, I called Little Rascal and Miss He, the cat. My mother asked why I was taking them both with me. I lied and said I was going to sell them in Jiangcheng, which earned me a couple of annoyed barks and meows from the two.
As I was leaving, I hesitated and asked if I should say goodbye to my father. My mother laughed and said, “Don’t bother. He drank too much last night and is still sleeping.” Stepping out of the courtyard gate, I glanced back, unsure when I’d return or what would await me when I did. Little did I know, my father had already woken up and was standing by the window, watching me without letting me see him. I wonder if he shed a tear as he watched my figure disappear into the distance.
The reason I left home so quickly was mainly to escape my hometown as soon as possible. Once I left that small town, no one would know I was a feng shui master. In a tiny place like that, even a loud fart on the street would be common knowledge by the next day. But in a big city, time moves too fast, people are strangers, and one person lost in a sea of millions—no one knows who you are. There, no one would know my past. Another reason was to take any danger away from my parents, so they could live in peace.
But the world has a way of bringing like-minded people together. Though I hid in Jiangcheng, I ended up encountering more people like me—those with strange names and odd identities: fortune-tellers, yin-yang masters, Taoist priests, monks, and even reclusive urban sages. I wasn’t ready to meet them.
Xie Lingyu once told me I wasn’t cut out to be a feng shui master because I was too emotionally attached, too burdened with feelings to ever become a great one. I think she was right. All I truly wanted was for my parents to be safe and for that one person to live a happy life.
When boarding the bus, the driver refused to let me on because I had a cat and a dog. I handed him a pack of Yellow Crane Tower cigarettes worth eighteen yuan and swore on my life that my pets wouldn’t make a sound. If he had known I was carrying a ruler with a female ghost inside, he’d probably have kicked me off and made me walk to Jiangcheng—and honestly, I wouldn’t blame him.
On the bus, I took out the ham for Little Rascal and dried fish for Miss He. The bus traveled an hour on the national highway, another hour and a half on the expressway, and finally an hour through Jiangcheng’s city center before arriving at the bus station.
Carrying a backpack with a cat and a dog on me, I must have looked ridiculous. Leaving the station, I couldn’t find a taxi amid the crowds, so I called Shen Yihu. After a long pause, he said he was at work but his wife could pick me up. Breaking into a cold sweat, I quickly declined, “Forget it, Officer Shen. I’ll figure it out myself.” I wasn’t ready to face the woman who once berated her husband over thirty yuan. The farther away from her, the better.
Finally, I managed to flag down a taxi. The driver was smoking a nine-and-a-half-yuan Red Golden Dragon. I smiled and said, “Hey, boss, mind not smoking? My cat doesn’t like it.” Grinning, he stubbed out the cigarette. “Your cat’s quite pretty. For her sake, I won’t smoke.”
Miss He peeked out from the bag, her green eyes blinking at the driver.
I told him to take me to Chuhan Avenue. After weaving through the streets, we arrived, and he announced, “Fifty yuan, exact change.”
“Boss, you’re ripping me off,” I protested. “This should be twenty at most. Fifty is daylight robbery.”
He lit another cigarette and puffed smugly. “Don’t like it? Should’ve walked. Once you’re in my car, you pay my price.”
Swearing under my breath (Who does this guy think I am, a first-time tourist?), I kicked the door open and stepped out. The driver yelled, “Hey! Pay up, you little punk. Think I’m just gonna let you walk away?”
Furious, I snapped, “Twenty, take it or leave it. Fifty’s out of the question. Want me to call the cops?”
The driver grabbed a wrench from his car. “Try walking away now, kid.” His belly jiggled with fat—one punch probably wouldn’t even faze him. “Don’t bully outsiders,” I warned. “I’m not easy prey. Charging fifty from the station to Chuhan Avenue? You think I’m an idiot? Want me to set my dog on you?”
The wrench never came down. Little Rascal, thinking I was releasing him, leaped from the bag and started barking wildly. The driver swung the wrench at him, but I ducked and rammed into him, knocking him against the car. The wrench clattered to the ground. Little Rascal narrowly escaped—he was good against evil spirits but useless against human malice.
The driver hadn’t expected a fearless outsider. Grabbing me, he snatched his radio and muttered into it. Within minutes, several other taxis screeched to a halt, surrounding me.
No way out—either pay up or get beaten.
Just then, Liu Jun, the owner of Brother Jun’s Auto Repair, slammed his tools down and stormed over in his grease-stained blue overalls. With a mustache like a bayonet and a solid build, the thirty-something man barked, “Enough! You guys acting like gangsters now? Shaking down a kid? You’re ruining Jiangcheng’s reputation with these fake taxis!”
The driver sneered, “Mind your own business. Gas ain’t free, old man. Piss off if you’ve got nothing better to do.”
Trapped in the circle, Little Rascal and Miss He yowled. I’d never been in a brawl before—no way to pull out my phone to call for help. Even if I told them I was a feng shui master, they’d just laugh. No point wasting secret techniques on these thugs.
Reluctantly, I bowed my head. “Sorry, boss. Here’s your fare.” I handed him a hundred-yuan bill. “Keep the change for cigarettes. Sorry for the trouble.”
Liu Jun roared, “Screw you and your scams! I hate you fake taxi crooks. If you ran an honest business, fine. But shaking down a student? Disgusting.”
With that, he tossed a twenty, pulled me from the crowd, and shouted for his three apprentices. One idiot even came out swinging a hammer, spitting as he marched. “Who dares touch my master?!”
The fake taxi driver cursed, “Bunch of morons. Think you’re tough? Just you wait!” Snatching the twenty from the ground, he and his cronies sped off.
Liu Jun turned without waiting for thanks and barked, “Back to work! No work, no food!” I repaid his twenty, and he offered me a smoke. I declined. He chuckled. “What’s the point of being a man if you don’t smoke?”
“Different strokes,” I said. “Bad lungs, so no smoking. But my liver’s fine—I can drink.”
Liu Jun asked why I’d come to Jiangcheng. I told him I’d seen a flower shop for sale online and wanted to run it for my girlfriend while finding another job myself. After being sick, I hadn’t earned much. My parents were getting old—couldn’t rely on them forever. Needed money for marriage, kids, maybe even a house (though that seemed impossible).
Liu Jun grinned. “What a coincidence. That shop’s right next to mine. The owner’s from Jilin—had twins and is heading back home.”
The flower shop idea was Xie Lingyu’s. She said flowers lifted moods, nourished people, and even benefited ghosts, so she funded the search for a shop.
No sooner had I spoken than Liu Jun knocked on the florist’s door.
The owner, Xu Wen, was eager to sell. He briefed me on the flowers, suppliers, and even threw in a Wuling van for deliveries. Liu Jun joked, “Old Xu, that junker’s practically scrap. Just give it to him and go raise your kids.”
Xu Wen laughed. “Scrap metal’s still worth something.” I pointed at the van outside. “That one?” He nodded. “Bought it for fifty grand.” I smiled. “For the twins’ luck, how about 6,880? Plus all the flowers and equipment—38,888 total.”
The shop was about forty square meters, leased from a landlord. The price was fair for Xu Wen.
After some hesitation, he agreed but asked when my “girlfriend” would arrive. Xie Lingyu was inside my jade ruler—hardly the time for her to materialize. “She’ll come tonight,” I said. “Just tell me what I need to know.”
Xu Wen, with his thick northeastern accent, listed a dozen tips on flower care, temperature control, and sourcing. I nodded along, pretending to memorize everything.
“You got all that?” he asked. I patted the ruler. “Got it.” We signed the papers, and Liu Jun drove us to an ATM to withdraw the cash. Before leaving, Liu Jun gifted Xu Wen a pair of golden figurines for the twins.
Everything went suspiciously smoothly. I almost believed my grandfather’s words—that the three-year curse was ending.
At noon, I closed the shop. Xie Lingyu wanted to rename it “White Dream Florist.” I agreed—it sounded nice.
Liu Jun recommended a cheap, quality sign maker and gave me their number. I treated him to lunch, then spent the afternoon house-hunting and arranging the sign. The Wuling van made things easier. I eventually rented a two-bedroom apartment near the shop—one room for me, one for Xie Lingyu (paid for by her). No idea how much money she had, but it felt like being kept by a wealthy ghost.
The apartment number was odd—Unit 4, Floor 4, Number 4. Normally unlucky, but Xie Lingyu laughed. “What’s there to fear? You’ve got Little Rascal to guard you. If you’re really scared, I’ll lend you Miss He. Save money where we can—you think I print cash?”
That evening, Shen Yihu called, inviting me to Grand China Restaurant. I drove the Wuling there on time. He looked baffled when I showed up with a dog. If Xie Lingyu and Miss He hadn’t been busy cleaning, I’d have brought the cat and ghost too.
Shen Yihu apologized. “Don’t blame me for Huang’s escape. Listen, how’s the job hunt? Want to work with me? Might even dig up clues on Huang.” I fed Little Rascal some peanuts from the table. “Go on.”
He pulled a photo from his black bag—a bald man named Yang Pao. “Wanted by the authorities. Five grand reward.”
I knew why he’d come to me. Yang Pao wasn’t your average criminal.
“Please tell me it’s not another male corpse this time.”
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