The next morning, Chen Wei arrived at the office with dark circles under his eyes and a mind in turmoil. The numbers on his spreadsheets swam before him, meaningless and distant. He couldn't focus. The image of the gray smoke and the address of the feng shui shop consumed his thoughts.
By lunchtime, he couldn't take it anymore.
He told his manager he was feeling unwell—a lie made believable by his haggard appearance—and took the subway straight to Yuyuan Garden.
Exit 3 of the station was a chaotic crush of humanity, loud with the calls of street vendors and the chatter of tourists. Chen Wei navigated the crowd, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. He was doing something completely irrational. He, a data analyst, was searching for a feng shui shop based on an anonymous post on a ghost forum. The cost-benefit analysis of this action was entirely negative. The risk was that he was wasting his time. The potential benefit... what was it? His own sanity?
The shop was tiny, sandwiched between a bubble tea joint and a store selling cheap souvenirs. Its wooden sign, carved with the three characters "Jù Bǎo Xuān" (Hall of Assembled Treasures), looked ancient and out of place among the gaudy neon signs.
It was practically invisible unless you were actively looking for it.
Chen Wei took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
A set of brass wind chimes sang a soft, clear tone.
Inside, the air was instantly cooler, carrying the faint, pleasant scent of sandalwood and dried mugwort. The space was small but meticulously organized. Tall wooden shelves reached the ceiling, displaying all manner of strange artifacts: hollowed-out gourds, Bagua mirrors, strings of old coins, and stone statues of mythical beasts. It was unusually quiet, as if the noise of Shanghai was stopped dead at the threshold.
Behind a polished ebony counter stood a girl. She looked to be in her early twenties, wearing an indie band T-shirt and ripped jeans. Her short, edgy hair was dyed with streaks of smoky blue. She was engrossed in her phone, her thumb swiping furiously. She looked absolutely nothing like the "knowledgeable owner" Chen Wei had imagined.
The girl looked up, her sharp eyes scanning Chen Wei from head to toe. It was a quick, appraising glance.
"Hey," she said, her voice clear and direct. "Looking for something? Pixiu for wealth? Peach blossom bracelet for love?"
Chen Wei felt a little lost. He had rehearsed a complex, roundabout script in his head, but her directness threw him off.
"Ah... no. I... I read online that you sell... protective items."
She raised an eyebrow, setting her phone down. "Protective items? Everything in my shop is a protective item. Bagua mirrors repel spirits, gourds dissolve negative qi. You'll have to be more specific. What do you need protection from? A difficult boss? Office politics?"
"No... it's more complicated than that," Chen Wei said, lowering his voice. "I think I saw... something that wasn't normal."
A flicker of genuine interest sparked in her eyes. She propped her chin on her hand, tilting her head. "Not normal? Elaborate."
Chen Wei hesitated. Saying this out loud to a stranger felt insane. But he was out of options. "On the subway. An old woman. She... she seemed to take something from someone else. Like... their energy."
The playful smirk vanished from her lips. She looked him straight in the eye, her expression turning serious.
"What did she look like? Heavy yin energy, sunken eyes, looked half-dead but moved without a sound?"
Chen Wei was stunned. "Yes... that's her exactly. How did you know?"
The girl sighed, the sigh of someone who had heard this story too many times. "A Star-Sucking Hag. A low-tier Urban Yaogui. Think of them as spiritual mosquitoes, flying around and feeding on 'yang energy' to survive. Annoying, but usually not immediately fatal."
His mind went blank. Hearing the exact words from the forum spoken so casually was both terrifying and validating.
"So... they're real?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "All of this... it's all real?"
"The world is a lot bigger than what you see from your office in Lujiazui," she replied, crossing her arms. "You saw it, didn't you? Not just saw her, you felt it. Most normal people would just feel dizzy or tired and brush it off. But you're different. Your system is more sensitive. Like a phone with better wifi, you can pick up the weaker signals."
The analogy was strange, but it made perfect sense to Chen Wei. "So what do I do? Theoretically, if I were to encounter it again..."
"Theoretically, you run," she cut in, bluntly. "You're an office worker, not a Daoist priest. Confronting it would be like bringing a paper contract to a knife fight. Useless."
She walked around the counter to a glass display case. "What you need is a passive defense system. Something to mask your 'signal,' or create interference that they find unpleasant." She pulled out a simple bracelet made of polished black agate beads. It was identical to the one described in the forum post.
"Black agate, soaked in mugwort water for seven days and consecrated under the full moon. It will stabilize your qi field, helping to hide you from the notice of low-level entities. Friendly price, one thousand eight hundred."
Chen Wei blinked at the price.
The girl shrugged. "You think safety is cheap? There's the cost of materials, time, labor, professional risk. Not to mention this is 'specialized' hardware. Just think of it as buying a premium antivirus for your soul."
He looked at the bracelet, then back at the girl. There was something trustworthy in her bluntness. No mystical mumbo-jumbo, just practical explanations and a clear price tag. He was standing between two worlds, and this girl seemed to be the bridge.
"I'll... I'll take it," he said, his voice more decisive now. "And... what's your name?"
"Lin Xiao Tong," she replied, smiling for the first time. It was a smart, confident smile. "Just call me Xiao Tong."
"Welcome to the other side of Shanghai."