Chapter 9: On the ninth day after retiring from the entertainment industry, Sang Qiqi had a funeral.
No matter how much you complain, your body is extremely honest.
More than half an hour later, Sang Qiqi took the agent's pink electric scooter to the shop sandwiched between the clinic and the haunted house.
"Well, since Miss Sang wants to do funeral products business, she shouldn't mind that something happened here, right?"
When parking and locking the car, the agent mentioned the key reason why the shop could not be rented out, turned to look at Sang Qiqi, eager to get an answer that would satisfy both parties.
"No problem."
Not only does she not mind, if there is still a lonely ghost who can't find the way here, Sang Qiqi can even be kind enough to send him to the underworld personally, to add to her own achievements and become the boss of the underworld as soon as possible.
"That's good. This used to be a hot pot restaurant. There was an explosion at night, and the owner and his wife who lived in the restaurant were killed."
"explode?"
"Well, the official explanation was that the explosion was caused by a liquefied gas leak, but the owner's son disagrees with this conclusion," the agent said, lost in thought. "I heard he even hired a private investigator and a professional forensic agency to investigate, but their conclusions mirrored the official ones, so he didn't say anything more and even closed the shop."
As they talked, they pulled up the rolling door and walked in.
Although it had experienced an explosion, the interior of the house had obviously been cleaned up, the charred area had been removed, and the walls had been repainted. However, due to the long period of being closed, there was still a pungent smell of paint in the air.
As soon as Sang Qiqi entered the shop, she looked to the right, where a closed door stood. Noticing her gaze, the agent explained, "This was the bedroom where the owner and his wife used to live."
Sang Qiqi nodded to show that she understood, and walked around the bedroom and the hall.
Because it was a hot pot restaurant, the space was quite large. She glanced at every corner and had already figured out how many shelves she would need and what would fit on them. As for the bedroom, it would be a great storage room.
The rent is cheap and the shop space is large, Sang Qiqi is very satisfied.
The only problem was that besides the smell of paint, there was also a lingering scent of evil spirits in the house, but the stench was very faint, so they probably didn't use this place as a nest.
"I think this place is great, let's book it." Sang Qiqi decided on the shop. "Should I sign the lease contract with you or the landlord?"
"I'll sign for you."
The location of the funeral goods store was quickly settled. Sang Qiqi paid a year's rent, declined the agent's offer to take her home, and sent a message to the shelf factory she had already set her eyes on, asking them to deliver the ordered shelves within two days.
Afterwards, Sang Qiqi went to the underworld again and found some ghosts who were good at making paper-cut objects, but she soon discovered that those ghosts probably died early and had very old-fashioned ideas, and were only good at making luxury cars and mansions.
To attract customers, these things alone are definitely not enough.
The funeral industry is different from other businesses. Funeral shops almost all provide one-stop services, and these shop owners have connections in the surrounding areas. They introduce one employer to another, and the other party introduces them to other people.
A funeral director like Sang Qiqi, who is so young and a female celebrity who switched professions, seems unreliable no matter how you look at it.
It is easy to get black fans to come to you, but it is difficult to get business to come to you.
So, she decided to create some novel products to capture people's curiosity.
First, let’s start with the store front.
Sang Qiqi picked a nearby graphic advertising shop and stood at the doorway, looking at the stickers on the glass that could be used to make a door sign before she walked in. It was hot today, so she wrapped herself up tightly in a bucket hat, a mask, and a sun-protective jacket, revealing only her beautiful, bright almond-shaped eyes.
It was mid-afternoon, and the boss was so sleepy he kept yawning. Seeing a customer coming in, he looked listless and asked with his hand covering his mouth, "Hello, what can I do for you?"
Sang Qiqi: "I want to make a door sign."
The boss nodded and said, "Okay, I have a few styles here, you can choose one."
Sang Qiqi leaned over to take a look and found that they were all pretty much the same. In the end, to make it more noticeable and in line with the style of the funeral industry, she chose a pattern with white text on a gray background. Pointing at the sample paper, she said, "Write Sang Qiqi here, using a larger and bolder font. Then, divide it into two lines. Write 'Funeral Service' in white on the top, and write the contact information in black on the bottom."
The boss didn't hear clearly for a moment and scratched his ears: "What do you mean by a one-stop funeral service?"
Sang Qiqi: "Sang Qiqi's funeral is a one-stop service."
boss:"?"
He finally heard clearly now. He rubbed his face vigorously with both hands to drive away the sleepiness, and tried to open his squinting eyes to look at Sang Qiqi. But the girl's face and expression were hidden by the hat and mask, so he couldn't see clearly.
He seemed to be thinking: "Is Sang Qiqi a hater?"
Sang Qiqi was amused: "You know quite a lot."
This boss doesn't look young. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes are obvious. He should be no less than 40 years old. How could he even understand the tricks of celebrity haters?
The boss accepted the compliment and said modestly, "It's a daily occurrence. To be honest, every other day, someone asks me to print black and white photos of Sang Qiqi, as well as brochures with negative information about Sang Qiqi and posters showing her in an unflattering light. Just yesterday, someone came to me to customize an electronic screen. They said they wanted to mount it on a truck and have it circle around Sang Qiqi's agency."
Sang Qiqi: “…”
She took off her mask and hat, pointed at her face, and asked the boss with a smile: "Do I look familiar to you?"
boss:"……"
The boss's confident expression suddenly collapsed. Thinking back to the words that just came out of his mouth, he wanted to slap himself.
He chuckled twice and asked silently, "When do you want it?"
Sang Qiqi: "As soon as possible."
Boss: "Then I'll expedite it for you, three days."
Sang Qiqi nodded: "Okay, make me another box of business cards. I've found a design, take a look."
Three days passed in a flash. During this time, Sang Qiqi hired a few young men to clean up the funeral parlor. Then, she received a call from the shelf manufacturer, asking them to arrange the shelves according to her original plan. She had a takeout lunch, and in the afternoon, the boss of the graphic advertising company and his workers drove a small van to Sang Qiqi's store.
The workers helped put up the door billboard, and the boss handed the business card box to Sang Qiqi.
The business card customized by Sang Qiqi has white letters on a black background, and the paper has an embossed texture. It looks very noble under the light. It doesn't look like a business card for a funeral home, but more like a black card of a domineering president.
Sang Qiqi checked it over and naturally pulled one out. Seeing the boss's slightly stiff expression, she stuffed it into his hand and said with a smile, "Come to me anytime if you need anything. I'll give you a 10% discount."
boss:"……"
He didn't know if it was his illusion, but he always felt that Sang Qiqi's tone and attitude didn't seem like she was willing to give him a 10% discount, but rather as if she wanted to break his bones.
After a busy day, by the time the sun set, [Sang Qiqi Funeral Service] was finally ready.
Sang Qiqi pushed open the door to the storeroom. The once empty space was now filled with all sorts of paper crafts. Although it was late, Sang Qiqi still sorted them into categories and placed them on the shelves.
Ordinary luxury houses and cars occupy one row.
Just as she was about to move the mahjong machine out, a familiar voice came from behind Sang Qiqi: "Miss Sang?"
Sang Qiqi turned her head and saw Chen Xin looking at her in surprise with a bag slung over one shoulder. Next to her stood Xiao Xiao, whom she had met once before, and Kong Xingyan, the captain of the Fuping District Public Security Criminal Investigation Brigade.
"It's really you, Miss Sang! We passed by here and saw this [Sang Qiqi's Funeral Service] and thought it was a prank." Kong Xingyan stepped in first, his eyes falling on the exquisitely crafted paper mansion. Although he already had some guesses, he was still surprised. "Have you... changed your career?"
"Yes." She warmly welcomed them in and asked if they had eaten. She naturally handed out her business card. "If you need anything during festivals or sacrifices, you can come to me. I can give you a discount."
All three of them lowered their heads.
The three characters "Sang Qiqi" written in large letters on the business card made Chen Xin's eyes twitch: "I didn't expect you to understand this."
Sang Qiqi nodded at her: "Professional."
Chen Xin and the other two exchanged a glance, and Kong Xingyan spoke again, "It just so happens that we were planning to go to the cemetery. We were planning to buy some paper-cut flowers and candles from the wreath and incense shop around the corner, but since Miss Sang already has some ready-made, it saves us the trouble."
Sang Qiqi didn't expect it to be such a coincidence, but there was absolutely no reason to refuse the business that came to her door.
"What kind of paper crafts do you want? I have plenty in my storage room. Why don't you come in and take a look?"
Kong Xingyan and the other two were going to pay their respects today to an elder. That elder's surname was Zhang. He had previously run a noodle shop next to the Fuping District Public Security Bureau, and everyone called him Uncle Zhang. Uncle Zhang's noodles were hand-rolled, delicious, chewy, and crispy, and they were also inexpensive. They were a staple for many in the bureau, the kind you'd miss if you didn't eat them.
The bureau is usually busy with work and they often have no food to eat. Uncle Zhang will take the initiative to make noodles for them and bring them to the office.
Therefore, people in the bureau not only called him Uncle Zhang, but also Dad Zhang.
Unfortunately, Uncle Zhang was diagnosed with cancer a year ago and passed away.
As the anniversary of Zhang Bo's death approaches, all the colleagues in the bureau who have time will go to the cemetery to visit Zhang Bo.
After listening to this, Sang Qiqi asked, "What hobbies does Zhang Bo have?"
Xiao Xiao: "Does drinking count?"
Sang Qiqi clapped her hands, her eyes lighting up: "Drinking is good, I have Feitian Moutai here, do you want some?"
Xiao Xiao: “……?”
She went into the storeroom and soon emerged carrying two paper-made bottles of Feitian Moutai. Although Xiao Xiao had never bought Feitian Moutai herself, she had seen quite a few online. One relative, in particular, loved showing off. After receiving a bottle, she took a series of photos of it, creating a grid of them and posting eight messages on WeChat Moments.
It was hard for Xiao Xiao not to see clearly.
So when I saw the white and red wine bottle in front of me, I thought I saw the real thing.
It wasn't until Sang Qiqi stuffed the Moutai into his hand that the light weight announced his fantasy.
Kong Xingyan and Chen Xin, who witnessed the whole process, were both shocked. When they bought paper products in the past, they either bought wreaths, houses or cars. But when they came across a three-story villa, they would marvel at how the funeral industry had developed to this level.
Who would have thought that one day I would see paper-made Feitian Moutai?
Chen Xin tentatively said, "Uncle Zhang also likes to play chess with other old men in the park."
Sang Qiqi turned around and found another chess set, handed it to Chen Xin, and after thinking for a moment, asked, "Should we burn an old man for him? He can't play alone, right?"
Chen Xin: "...burn two more, and there must be onlookers, otherwise the chess game will not be fun."
Kong Xingyan: “…”
After pocketing all the paper items the three of them needed, Sang Qiqi ordered another stack of ghost money and stuffed it in. "Two bottles of Feitian Moutai for 500, the chess pieces and six old men for 200, and ghost money for 300, a total of 1,000. I'll give you a 10% discount, so just pay 900."
The moment he heard the price, two words popped up in Kong Xingyan's mind: taking advantage of the old customers.
But seeing Sang Qiqi's serious face, he finally said nothing, opened his phone and paid quickly.
Before leaving with the pile of paper figurines, Kong Xingyan remembered something and turned around and said, "Oh, the other day, Zheng Hongyi's wife...oh, now I should call her ex-wife, said she wanted to buy a plot of land for Qu Shen's grave. We're planning to go there once the plot is ready. Do you want one?"
Sang Qiqi didn't mention that Qu Shen had been reincarnated. She just nodded and said, "Okay."
Kong Xingyan: "Okay, then we'll come find you after work."
-
After leaving Sang Qiqi's funeral shop, Xiao Xiao, who had been pursing his lips for a long time, finally couldn't hold back anymore and moved closer to Kong Xingyan. He stared at the paper figurine in his hand with a frown and muttered, "This thing isn't made of gold, why is it so expensive?"
Chen Xin didn't say anything, but the expression on his face clearly showed that he agreed with Xiao Xiao's question.
Kong Xingyan kept a straight face and said, "Sang Qiqi must have her reasons for charging such a high price."
Xiao Xiao: "But just now when Sang Qiqi said that 900 would be enough, your expression looked like you were cursing, Captain."
Kong Xingyan was silent for a moment, then he kicked him, feeling rather irritated at having his thoughts exposed: "You're the only one who can talk."
The three of them chatted with each other and soon arrived at the South City Cemetery.
After greeting the gravekeeper, Kong Xingyan led Chen Xin and Xiao Xiao to Uncle Zhang's grave. When they arrived, some fruits and paper money were already placed in front of the tombstone. Xiao Xiao peeked in and slammed his thigh, "What a loss! Brother Li and his people have 100 million in paper money! We only have 100, this stack is not even a fraction of what they have!"
Kong Xingyan also felt a bit wronged, but he still said stubbornly: "So what? They give 100 million, and we also give 100 million. Can Old Man Zhang spend so much in the underworld?"
"Come on, stop talking nonsense and make him some Feitian Moutai first."
The flames flickered, and all the paper products bought from Sang Qiqi were burned dry, without even a speck of dust left.
Kong Xingyan, a tall and imposing man, stood before the tombstone. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke, rambling on and on. When it was completely dark, he said, "I'll come see you next time."
That night, Kong Xingyan took a bath and fell asleep, and soon fell into a deep dream.
In the dream, the old man I had just seen on the tombstone today walked out of the kitchen of the small noodle shop, holding a bowl of mutton noodles. He walked straight up to Kong Xingyan and pushed the mutton noodles in front of him: "When I died, you were the one who cried the most. You said you treated me like a half-father and that you would burn a lot of money for me. But I waited for you for a year, so where did your money go?"
Kong Xingyan didn't react.
Uncle Zhang didn't give him a chance to respond and continued to ramble, "I thought you were just a big-eyed kid with thick eyebrows, but you're actually two-faced. I don't know how many times I've cursed you in my heart. Fortunately, you're thoughtful. Even though it's a little late, at least you made Feitian Moutai for me, an old man. Wow, I've lived for so many years and I've never tasted Moutai."
"Today you eat mutton noodles, I drink Maotai, let's chat."
Bang——
Kong Xingyan suddenly sat up from the bed.
He turned his head to look at the bright sunlight outside the window, recalling his dream last night. He was stunned for a few seconds and couldn't help but curse softly: "Fuck, what the hell."
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