I was terrified. I tried to run, but my hand was gripped tightly.
Calm down, young man.
The old woman spoke again. I turned around—it was a blind elderly lady, her right hand clutching a cane, her left hand holding onto me, her back hunched.
"Madam... I... I need to find a fortune teller."
The blind old lady shook her head.
"Don't go down this road, young man. Go home now, don't go anywhere tonight, remember that."
After she finished speaking, Mrs. Blake tapped my back lightly with her cane and entered Fortune Teller's Row. I felt a warm current surge through me, and the chill that had gripped my body vanished instantly.
Strangely, the street suddenly became crowded and noisy. People were all around me. I rubbed my eyes, searching for the blind old lady, but couldn't find her.
I don't know why, but it was as if I'd seen hope. I followed the crowd and entered Fortune Teller's Row.
"Sir, do you know if there's a blind old lady living here?"
I entered a fortune teller's shop and asked around. The shop was dimly lit, a shrine to the Three Pure Ones glowed with red lights. The fortune teller before me seemed to ignore my presence, flipping through a book.
I asked again and walked closer. He kept flipping through his book. I reached out and shook him. Suddenly, the fortune teller looked up—his eyes seemed strangely familiar.
The fortune teller stared at me intently. The more I looked, the stranger it felt. Bathed in red light, his face was terrifying, his eyes cold yet smiling.
I called out a few more times, but he seemed frozen. I waved my hand in front of his eyes.
With a snap, the fortune teller's head fell off completely. I jumped back in fright. The head rolled to my feet—and bit down on my foot.
I struggled desperately. As I lifted my foot, I saw Nathan Li, clinging to my foot, blood staining it. I screamed and rushed out of the shop.
The street was empty, not a soul in sight. Red lanterns hung everywhere, bathing the whole street in crimson light as I ran toward the end of the street.
Nathan Li's head vanished. Eyes shut tight, I ran for my life.
Qingyuan, where are you going...
Behind me, I heard Lily Wu's voice—low and mournful. I covered my ears. People always say, if you meet a ghost, never look back.
At that moment, I stumbled and fell to the ground. I didn’t dare open my eyes, or even move, because I could feel something gently stroking my back.
Qingyuan, don’t you like this?
It was Lily Wu. She used to love having me lie down while she gently caressed me from above. I shook my head.
Lily, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to.
A chilling giggle. Lily Wu’s hand slid to my neck and squeezed.
Alright then, since you didn’t mean it, come keep me company...
I couldn’t breathe—her grip on my neck was unyielding. I started struggling, but strangely, my limbs wouldn’t respond. I was about to be strangled to death.
Wake up, young man.
Just then, someone tapped my head. I snapped awake—my own hands were wrapped tightly around my throat. The blind old lady stood before me, cane raised, pulling my hands away.
I stood in the middle of the street. There were no red lanterns—every shop was brightly lit, bustling with people.
Granny, please save me, save me...
I begged, clutching the blind old lady’s hands, then collapsed to my knees as if grasping at a lifeline, refusing to let go.
"Kid, are you trying to take advantage of my wife?" Suddenly, someone hoisted me up—a small old man, his face ruddy, temples gray, looking lively and spirited.
I... I wasn’t, I...
"Old man, enough!" the blind old lady scolded. Mr. Cooper pursed his lips, then leaned close, sniffing me repeatedly.
Kid, you’re shrouded in dark clouds. Your time is almost up.
What do you mean? I asked.
With a smack, Mr. Cooper slapped me on the head.
It means you’re about to die.
We entered the blind old lady’s shop. Facing us was a shrine to the Three Pure Ones. To the left, a large Bagua Diagram; to the right, a red cloth with writing on it. In the center, a small round table, and on either side of the shrine, black and white curtains hung.
Old man, pour some water.
I sat down. The blind old lady took a seat in front of me and handed me the paper and pen from the table.
Excuse me, Granny, what’s your name?
Ha! Kid, with all that bad luck clinging to you, the old lady must never tell you her name. Otherwise, if you get mixed up with that thing, it’ll be trouble.
I wrote down my birth date and time. The two of them began fiddling around. After a while, they both finished and shook their heads.
No hope, huh, old lady?
Sigh, such a bitter fate. Young man, today is August 5th—you have six days left.
I tried to tell them everything that had happened today, but both shook their heads, unwilling to listen.
Please, I’m begging you, save me.
Mr. Cooper reached out his hand. I looked at him in confusion. He kept beckoning, then rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. I quickly put my hand on his.
Money, kid! What are you doing? Huh? No money, no talk! We’re running a business here.
I hurriedly responded and pulled out my wallet. Without another word, Mr. Cooper took it, counted out 800, and stuffed it into his pouch.
Take off your jacket and come with me.
I did as I was told, immediately.
Take everything off. Mr. Cooper lifted the black curtain and walked inside.
I walked in. It was pitch black inside, then a beam of red light appeared. Altars and memorial tablets surrounded me. There was a bed—I lay down on it, face up, as instructed.
(Irrelevant website prompt skipped as per guidelines.)
Mr. Cooper held a small dish and a pen, muttering under his breath. He started writing on my body. After a while, he began waving the pen in the air, moving as if he were dancing. It looked comical, but I didn’t dare laugh—because I couldn’t.
When he finished, I got up and walked out.
Granny, am I safe now?
The blind old lady shook her head.
Kid, leave your phone number and address. When the time comes, I’ll handle things for you.
Huh?
Mr. Cooper pointed to the door with the white curtain.
See that? When the time comes, I’ll be in that room, performing your last rites.
Dragging my exhausted body, I walked to my front door. I’d been begging those two to save me, but no matter how much I pleaded, they just shook their heads. Especially Mr. Cooper—he said I only had six days left.
Staring at the number 410 on my door, I hesitated to go in. But the blind old lady had told me to go home and not go anywhere at night for the next few days.
It was already 11:58. Luckily, I hadn’t encountered anything strange on my way back. I walked home—couldn’t afford a cab.
Time ticked by. Finally, I took out my key. With a creak, before I could even put the key in, the door opened by itself.
My mouth hung open. Hadn’t they written a talisman for me? Why was this still happening? I backed away step by step.
Brother, don’t be afraid. Go on.
A cold hand landed on my shoulder from behind. Grimacing, I was pushed into the room by the ghost.
Once inside, I stood in the corner by the wall. After a flash of green light, the ghost from last night sat down in front of me again. Luckily, he wasn’t scary tonight—I seemed to be getting used to it.
The ghost held the cup I’d thrown away that morning. It was filled with tea, steam rising from it.
I kept glancing at my chest—since the talisman was drawn there, my hands unconsciously moved up. As the ghost took a sip of tea, I suddenly pulled open my shirt, exposing the talisman.
The ghost laughed, stood up, and floated over.
Brother, your talisman is pretty artistic. The ghost reached out, wiped my chest.
My eyes widened. Had I run into a fraud? Was the talisman useless against this ghost?
It’s useless, brother. This childish stuff works on ordinary things, but not on me.