August 27th, the fifteenth day of the lunar calendar—today is the Ghost Festival. After nearly two weeks in the hospital, my body is finally recovering. All this time, my cousin has stayed by my side, never leaving for a moment.
"Ethan, how about it? Want to become a monk with me?"
These past few days, my cousin keeps bringing up the idea of becoming a monk. I’ve heard it so much my ears are numb. It’s not that I’m unwilling, but I do feel a strong resistance inside.
Given my situation, becoming a monk is probably the best solution. Universal Temple is one of the most renowned temples in the country, located on Mount Tianzhao at the eastern edge of the city, right on the border between two provinces. Every year, nearly ten million pilgrims visit—it’s a true Buddhist sanctuary.
Even someone as skilled as Quentin Yin would probably be no match for so many monks.
In the end, I decided to go with my cousin to the temple after the Ghost Festival, but I have no intention of becoming a monk.
Master Zhou also came by these past few days to persuade me. He said that although I lack spiritual insight, as long as I turn to Buddha, I can overcome my current misfortune.
It was already afternoon. These past few days, I’ve only had hospital food. First, I can’t move around much; second, I’m completely broke and don’t want my cousin to spend too much on me.
"Come on, Ethan, let’s go out for a good meal. After that, I’ll take you for a massage, and maybe find a couple of pretty girls..."
My cousin didn’t finish his sentence, but I knew—he hasn’t changed one bit.
I wasn’t really in the mood to go out, but my cousin drove me around the city. The streets were littered with piles of burned joss paper, some still smoldering.
Master Zhou once said that the Ghost Festival is like the Spring Festival for spirits—a day when ghosts can return home, reunite with family, and share a meal. On this day, the Styx Gate opens, and many tormented souls from the underworld flood into the world of the living.
Quentin Yin had warned me several times not to wander around, but my cousin just smiled beside me.
"Relax, Ethan. Here, take this."
My cousin said this as he took out two Buddhist Amulets, handing one to me.
"Don’t worry. The big monk gave these to us. Even if we meet a ghost, we’ll be fine."
I nodded and accepted the Buddhist Amulet. After a hearty meal at an upscale restaurant, my cousin insisted on taking me for a massage.
After the massage, I felt much better. By now, it was already past ten o’clock. My cousin gave me a sly smile.
"Come on, little cousin, let’s go have some fun. There’s a club nearby—the girls there are really something!"
I tried my best to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen. He said tomorrow we’d be monks, so if we didn’t have some fun now, we’d never get another chance.
I didn’t stop my cousin. He drove me to the hospital entrance, and I hobbled inside on my crutch.
The empty lobby was deserted. My ward was on the sixth floor. I went to the elevator—one was marked 'Out of Service,' and the other was stuck at the top, on the eleventh floor.
I waited a few minutes, but the elevator didn’t budge.
Just as I was wondering what was going on, the elevator finally moved, coming down. But when it reached the second floor, it stopped again. I waited, feeling full and a bit drowsy from the drinks I’d had with my cousin.
I pressed the button impatiently, not knowing what the person upstairs was doing.
Then, instead of coming down, the elevator started going up again. I took a few steps back, sensing something was off.
I decided to take the stairs, even though my leg wasn’t healed yet. Clutching the Buddhist Amulet tightly, I braced myself—it was late, and I had nowhere else to go. I just had to tough it out and get back to my ward, hoping to sleep until morning.
I climbed the stairs slowly. By the time I reached the fourth floor, it was already eleven o’clock.
"Hey, that patient on the sixth floor is doomed tonight."
"Huh? How do you know?"
"I overheard it today by accident. That guy’s vicious—I heard them talking about paying a million yuan to buy that patient’s life."
I gasped. The voices were coming from a half-open door on the fourth floor—an old man and a young one.
My first thought was to call the police, but then I wondered—could it be another ghostly encounter?
I felt my way along the wall, tiptoeing closer.
"Old man, you’ve been around here a long time. Got any good places to recommend?"
"You just got here. Take it easy—this place is actually pretty decent."
I peeked out—there was no one in the hallway. It was pitch dark, except for a few wards with a faint glow.
"Am I just overthinking?" I muttered, turning my head—then suddenly, I yelped. Standing right in front of me was an auntie, her clothes filthy, hair messy. She looked familiar.
"Young man, tonight’s not peaceful here. You’d better not go back."
Suddenly, I remembered—she was the auntie who once warned me not to get on the Route 146 Bus while I was waiting one night. What was she doing here?
"Auntie, are you human or ghost?"
I was still a bit scared.
"Don’t stay in this hospital tonight—especially you. You’re carrying a heavy curse!"
I nodded gratefully.
Something was definitely off tonight. When I entered the hospital, there wasn’t a soul in sight. I didn’t think too much about it—whether that auntie was human or ghost, this time I decided to take her advice. I hurried downstairs.
"Hey, why don’t we join in? Maybe we’ll get something out of it."
"You fool, behave yourself. I think I just heard someone outside."
The voices of the old man and the young one drifted over from the fourth floor again. I turned around—the auntie had already disappeared.
My leg hurt again, so I could only limp slowly down the stairs.
"Look, it’s that crippled kid."
"Wait, why do I feel like this kid can hear us talking?"
I didn’t look back, just pretended to be calm as I walked downstairs. The old man and the young one were right behind me.
"Let me test him. This kid doesn’t have any fire on him."
My palm gripped the Buddhist Amulet, ready to pull it out at a critical moment.
A chill ran down my spine as something swiftly drifted past me.
Suddenly, I froze—almost screamed. Master Zhou once said that ordinary people can’t see ghosts, and ghosts hate being seen. If you do see one, they might mess with you.
The young ghost in front of me had several long stitches across his head. His whole face looked like it had been sewn together—some parts bulged, others were sunken.
I forced down my fear, pretending nothing was wrong as I rummaged through my pockets. The ghost waved his pale hand in front of my face.
"Looks like he can’t see us, old man. You’re just paranoid."
"Young man, you dropped your Buddhist Amulet."
Suddenly, the old ghost behind me spoke. I instinctively looked down, panicked—my Buddhist Amulet was supposed to be in my hand.
The young ghost instantly lunged at me, claws outstretched. I flashed the Buddhist Amulet at him—a dazzling golden light burst forth, sending the ghost flying. But just then, a shriveled hand gripped my shoulder from behind.
I couldn’t move well, so I just clung to the Buddhist Amulet. But now, the amulet—once glowing—began to emit a black mist. In an instant, all its light vanished.
"Ha! This thing is powerful, but once it touches something unclean, it’s useless."
Suddenly, I remembered—my cousin had been messing around with his cup all day. From his expression, I instantly understood.
The two ghosts blocked my way, one in front and one behind.
I turned around. The old ghost had white hair and a deeply lined, deathly pale face—but nothing else that was particularly frightening.
"Get lost! What do you want?"
"Heh, kid, you were eavesdropping on us. You should pay up."
As he spoke, the old ghost tightened his grip on my shoulder.
"Fine, fine. What do you want to eat? Leave your names and I’ll buy you offerings tomorrow."
"Great, great!" The young ghost was excited.
"You fool, what offerings? The yang energy from a living person is delicious! Kid, just let us have a taste of your life force."
Suddenly, I was furious. Why are ghosts always like this? Without another word, I clenched my fist.
"Let go of me, or don’t blame me for what happens next!"
The young ghost clapped his hands, his face turning vicious.
"Wow, I’m a ghost! Aren’t you scared?"
"I’ve seen plenty of ghosts—there are several in my house alone."
As I spoke, I punched his mocking face. He yelped and flew backward. Immediately, I grabbed the old ghost’s hand and twisted hard—he cried out.
Sure enough, they could touch me—and I could touch them. I turned and punched the old ghost in the chest, then raised my cane, ready to strike his head.