"One to two," said Song Huaihua.
"One to two? One hell coin for two yuan? So the afterlife doesn't have the inflation everyone talks about!"
Song Miaozhu quickly calculated in her head.
"One thousand first-grade ingots, each worth one hundred hell coins, adds up to 100,000.
Five hundred second-grade ingots, each worth one thousand hell coins, that's 500,000.
One hundred third-grade ingots, each worth ten thousand hell coins, totaling 1,000,000.
Altogether, that's 1.6 million underworld coins—so, 3.2 million RMB?"
"We're rich!" Song Miaozhu's gaze at the ingots grew even more affectionate.
"Don't celebrate too soon. You'll only get the money if you can sell them!"
"You're a living person. You can only stay in the underworld for two hours a day, or it'll shorten your lifespan. When you come here, light a white candle—you must leave before it burns out! There are two bundles of candles here. Once they run out, buy more from Old Deng's incense shop next door."
Song Huaihua meticulously explained everything before sitting on the stool behind the counter.
"You still have an hour and a half left. Go open the door. How much you earn today depends on you."
Curious, Song Miaozhu pushed open the shop's door. Outside was an incredibly wide street, bustling with more ghosts than the busiest parts of Jiangchen.
In Fengdu City, it seemed brightly colored, traditional-style clothing was the trend. Everywhere she looked, she saw robes, changpao jackets, hanfu dresses, cross-collared garments, even qipaos and western suits—everything imaginable. But seven or eight out of ten ghosts wore glaring shades of red, green, or purple.
Though the street was shrouded in a gray haze that made it hard to see the shops across the way, the neon-like signboards stood out vividly. Her own shop had a massive golden ingot-shaped signboard with the words "Anshou Hall"—any ghost could tell at a glance what was sold here.
The lively, prosperous scene was nothing like the dark, eerie netherworld she had imagined. If not for the ghosts' pale or bluish-black faces, and some whose clothes had a papery, unreal texture, she might have mistaken this for an ancient-themed commercial street.
The only thing that felt truly "underworldly" was the gray, oppressive air, casting a lifeless pall over everything. But the riot of colors on the street softened the effect.
"No wonder the ghosts here love bright colors!" Song Miaozhu thought.
The shops opposite were too far away, so she took a few steps out to see what the neighboring stores sold. Just then, an old man in a purple round hat peeked out from the shop next door, staring at her eerily.
His entire figure was bathed in the red glow of the giant incense signboard.
Song Miaozhu: "..."
"Do ghosts all like staring at people from behind? Great-Grandma does it, and now this old man too.''
"You're Song Huaihua's great-granddaughter?" the old man asked.
Song Miaozhu nodded. "You must be Grandpa Deng?"
Her great-grandmother had mentioned that the white candles used to track time in the underworld were sold at Old Deng's incense shop next door.
The old man finally stepped fully out of his shop, hands behind his back, chest puffed out—only to realize he was still shorter than her. He silently floated upward to look down at her and said,
"That's right! I'm surnamed Deng! You can call me Great Elder Deng."
"Great Elder my foot! Just call him Old Deng," Song Huaihua snapped, emerging with a rattan cane and shooing him away. "Shoo! Don't interfere with our business. My time's running out."
Old Deng seemed afraid of the cane, retreating into his shop but still poking his head out. "You're really going to reincarnate?"
"Of course! If not now, when?" Song Huaihua pulled Song Miaozhu back inside and thrust the cane into her hands.
"Take this! If any ghost causes trouble, whip them with it. It'll hurt but won't harm them—perfectly legal in Fengdu. Just don't dip it in willow water; that damages ghostly energy and isn't allowed here. Outside, though, go wild—just don't scatter any innocent souls."
Song Miaozhu stared at the cane, confused. "Outside?"
"I mean the living world," said Song Huaihua. "You're now the owner of a Heaven-class ghost shop, half an underworld citizen already. Heavenly Eye has opened, so even back in the living world, you'll be able to see ghostly energy and spirits. And our products? Ghosts and spirits love them.
Especially in the future—ghosts will be able to stay longer in the living world. Inevitably, you'll run into some clingy ones. If you don't want to deal with them, just chase them away with that switch. Don't underestimate it—it's just as old as this shop and was passed down from our founder!"
"…Wait, is that the same stick used to beat me as a kid? Also, how come ghosts will be able to stay longer in the living world later on?" Song Miaozhu asked in surprise.
"That was just an ordinary one. This is different." Song Huaihua only answered the first question. Just then, the bronze bell at the shop door jingled—a ghost customer had arrived.
She fell silent and gestured for Song Miaozhu to handle it.
Song Miaozhu looked toward the door and gasped: "!!!"
A ghost with a flat, mangled, bloody head stood there. Unlike the ghosts outside, this one made it very clear how he'd died. Remembering the hell notes that could be exchanged for real money, Song Miaozhu steadied herself.
"This is a ghost shop. Our customers are ghosts. With the shopkeeper's token protecting me, no ghost can tell I'm human. No need to be scared. This isn't a ghost—it's a walking pile of hell coins!"
Steeling herself, she put on the warm but professional smile she'd honed from part-time jobs and stepped forward.
"Welcome! How can I help you?"
Despite his gruesome appearance, the flat-headed ghost seemed timid. "H-Hello… I just arrived. I heard that ghost lifespan has to be stored in money molds to be used as hell coins. Do you sell those here…?"
"Of course! Our signature golden ingots are the most stylish and practical money molds on the market—a Fengdu classic, praised by all! Let me show you!"
She guided the ghost to the counter and displayed three sample ingots.
"This is a first-grade ingot, priced at 100 hell coins. It can store spirit lifespan worth 1,000 hell coins."
"This is a second-grade ingot, priced at 1,000 hell coins. It can store 10,000 hell coins' worth."
"And this—our premium third-grade ingot—costs 10,000 hell coins but can hold up to 100,000 hell coins' worth of spirit lifespan."
"New ingots can be used repeatedly by their first owner."
"How much is 1,000 hell coins' worth of ghost lifespan?" the flat-headed ghost asked.
Song Miaozhu didn't know. She glanced at her great-grandmother for help.