"A ghost!"
Just as Su Mu was staring, speechless, at his own memorial hall, Cong Yuanlong, who was burning paper offerings out front, suddenly looked up. He saw Su Mu and let out a great cry.
"What are you screaming about?"
Liu Yang said irritably, "What ghost would dare come to our Taiping Bureau? Have you forgotten what the Taiping Bureau does?
If you want to call me a gambling fiend, just say so!"
"Junior Brother Cong, 'ghost' is just a term commoners use. In reality, they're just one form of demon," Ding Shiyun explained.
"No—"
Cong Yuanlong pointed behind them, nearly in tears. "There really is a ghost!"
The two followed his finger and turned to look. The sight made them jump to their feet.
"Junior Brother Su, you couldn't rest in peace, so you've come back?"
Ding Shiyun's eyes went wide, his words a jumbled mess.
"My mistake! Master Su, you are magnanimous! We promise to burn more offerings for you," Liu Yang said.
"What nonsense are you all spouting!"
