After much persuasion, we finally agreed to let Li Huai go to a bar to relax.
Then he reluctantly agreed after Luo Tianhe lined up all the beautiful female DJs for him to choose from.
After all, we're all buddies, so we can't really force him to go without giving him any benefits.
Li Huai is genuinely afraid of places like this; if it weren't for accompanying the two of us, he would never have gone, even if it meant death.
As night fell, we drove our van westward into the city. The further we went, the more remote the area became, and the fewer streetlights appeared. Eventually, there were no streetlights at all.
"Damn it, the city government collects so much tax every year, where does all the money go? They can't even install a single street light!"
Luo Tianhe slammed his fist on the steering wheel and cursed.
Upon hearing this, Li Huai weakly extended his hand: "Does the municipal government collect taxes? I don't think I've ever paid any."
I couldn't help but twitch my lips. That kid Li probably really has never paid taxes.
It's not that he evaded taxes, but when he worked at the mental hospital, it wasn't exactly a legitimate job, and he probably didn't even have a contract.
As for the method of payment, if I'm not mistaken, it should be through a green bubble transfer.
Although he is now working for us, he hasn't actually signed any formal contract; he's still receiving payments through green bubble transfers.
Luo Tianhe also glanced at Li Huai sideways. This kid was as poor as an egg and had indeed never paid taxes.
However, Luo Tianhe did a lot of business, and although he was involved in the underworld, he dared not evade any taxes.
"It's midnight." I looked at my watch, and the hands pointed exactly to midnight.
"The gates of hell open at midnight. Do you think those stall owners are all ghosts...?"
Li Huai muttered.
"How could that be? Do you think you're filming a horror movie?" Luo Tianhe patted Li Huai's shoulder irritably, without holding back, making him stumble a few steps.
The three of us got out of the car, taking the necessary equipment with us. I carried a small cloth bag containing a lightning sword, yellow talismans, cinnabar powder, iron powder, chicken throat bone powder, and soil from a grave.
Luo Tianhe carried an inconspicuous canvas bag containing a high-powered flashlight and emergency supplies. Learning from his previous experience, he also packed some compressed biscuits and water.
The western part of the city is extremely desolate, with weeds growing to waist height, making a strange whistling sound when the wind blows.
Moreover, the temperature here was significantly lower than in the city, damp and chilly, with a cold wind blowing straight to the bone. Li Huai shivered and moved even closer to us.
We trudged towards the abandoned bridge, the soil here slippery and soft, making it difficult to walk.
There were no lights around, only the flashlights in our hands, which allowed us to spot the distorted, swaying shadows of grass and the broken walls ahead.
After walking for about ten minutes, the outline of a dark stone bridge appeared ahead.
Under the bridge arch, where it should have been absolutely dark, a faint light was now shining through.
The light was neither from an electric light nor from a fire, but a pale, eerie, cold light, hazy and indistinct, as if it were being projected through a layer of frosted glass.
In the cold light, shadows flickered, and it seemed as if people were moving around and stalls were being set up.
We couldn't help but swallow hard; this ghost market, it seemed, did have some merit.
As you get closer, the cold light becomes clearer, like it's emanating from some kind of glowing moss or stone. The light is strange; it makes people's skin appear bluish-white with a greenish tinge.
I looked at Li Huai and Luo Tianhe; their faces, which I knew all too well, suddenly seemed somewhat unfamiliar.
But the next moment, when I heard Li Huai's familiar voice, I knew it was still him:
"Brother Yan, why don't we go back and discuss this further? We can come next month, though. My stomach suddenly hurts."
What stomach ache? This kid's just a coward.
Luo Tianhe and I ignored him and continued walking forward on our own. He didn't dare to stop there by himself, so he could only follow us into the ghost market with a bitter face.
Stepping into the area of cold light, the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees, though I don't know if it was just my imagination.
The air was thick and humid, carrying the scent of aged incense mixed with the smell of rotting herbs.
On both sides of the road, there were still unburnt paper money.
I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Paper money is something burned for the dead. If it's not burned completely, it can easily lure the dead back to take it, which is generally considered an ominous sign. Yet here it's everywhere.
It's probably just a coincidence.
I muttered to myself, but didn't tell Li Huai and Luo Tianhe, as it would only increase their fear.
There were more people than we imagined, probably twenty or thirty, scattered in different places.
They were dressed in various styles, some wearing old-fashioned Zhongshan suits from the last century, and others wearing more fashionable baseball caps.
What's even more outrageous is that some people were wearing t-shirts and others were wrapped in thick cotton-padded coats.
Most people were quiet, either squatting or standing in front of their stalls.
Others, presumably customers, slowly moved around the various stalls, examining the goods.
The stalls here are generally very simple, mostly just a dark plastic sheet or a tattered burlap sack laid on the ground, with the items to be sold displayed on it.
There were also a few people who didn't seem like they were there to sell anything at all; they didn't even prepare a plastic sheet and just put their things on the muddy ground.
Our appearance seemed to attract some attention. Several cold gazes were cast at me, making my skin crawl and giving me goosebumps. I subconsciously tightened my clothes.
I snapped out of my daze, tried to appear natural, and slowly walked along the edge, observing.
The first stall that caught our attention sold incense and herbs.
The stall owner was an old man with gray hair, wearing faded blue overalls.
On the plastic sheet in front of him were seven or eight open glass bottles filled with powders of various colors.
The old man was holding a small wooden pestle, slowly pounding it in a stone scoop, making a constant trembling sound.
His movements were steady, his expression focused, and he was humming a tuneless melody under his breath.
It sounded like an old folk song from decades ago, with a melancholic melody that was somewhat eerie in this environment.
A young man wearing a black windbreaker and a mask that completely covered his face squatted in front of the stall, picked up a little dark red powder with his fingers, smelled it, and then asked in a low voice:
"From Xishan?"
Upon hearing this, the old man stopped what he was doing:
“The ones in the east and west mountains were gone last month; that area isn’t very peaceful either.”
The young man nodded, didn't ask any more questions, took out a small cloth bag from his pocket, pulled out a few large bills, and placed them on the plastic sheet.
I have a sharp eye, and I could tell at a glance that what he gave me seemed to be ghost money.
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