Midnight, eighteenth floor.

  *Ding—*

  The elevator doors slid open, and Lisa stepped out.

  She had just finished her night shift and was dragging herself home.

  The hallway lights were set to night mode—a dim, sickly yellowish-orange glow that cast a horror-movie filter over everything.

  Lisa hated these lights. She was nearsighted, and even with glasses, the poor lighting made shadows dance in her peripheral vision. She had complained to building management multiple times, but her feedback always sank like a stone in the ocean. Yet, she couldn't bear to move out—the rent here, especially on the "unlucky" eighteenth floor, was significantly cheaper than anywhere else in the city.

  Thick hotel-style carpet muffled her footsteps. Lisa walked quickly, breathing shallowly, gripping her shoulder bag strap with both hands as if it were a lifeline.

  *Almost there.*

  Lisa wanted to keep her head down, but she couldn't help stealing a terrified glance at the white door of *that* apartment.

  *The Haunted Unit.*

  An Asian girl had moved in recently.

  Lisa had seen the leasing agent showing her the place. She moved in the same day. Initially, she looked like a vibrant, energetic young woman. By day two, she looked pale. By day three, she looked like a walking corpse—shuffling around half-asleep, looking like she could pass out standing up.

  *She’ll probably move out in a few days,* Lisa thought.

  She reached the door.

  Suddenly, a faint, sorrowful weeping drifted from behind the white wood.

  It was mournful, lingering, and heart-wrenchingly sad.

  Lisa froze. A chill shot up her spine and exploded in her brain. Every hair on her body stood on end.

  She practically sprinted the rest of the way to her own apartment, hands trembling violently as she fumbled with her keys. Only after slamming the door and shutting out that sickly yellow hallway light did she feel safe. Leaning against the door, she slowly gasped for air.

  ---

  *Click—*

  Inside the haunted unit, Li Li switched on her desk lamp. Warm light flooded the small space by her mattress.

  Wearing a face like thunder, she stomped over to the cardboard shrine and snapped:

  "Can you **shut up**?"

  She hadn't slept well for two days, and now Xiao Mei was pulling this stunt. Was it really such a big deal that she'd given a pinch of incense ash to that homeless ghost outside?

  Oh wait—Xiao Mei was already dead. It wasn't "a matter of life and death" because she had no life left.

  Warned, Xiao Mei immediately choked back her wails, switching to pathetic sniffles. In a tiny, aggrieved voice, she whispered, "I... I've only been enjoying incense for a few days..."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  And now Li Li was feeding *her* premium ash to random street ghosts? If this continued, she didn't dare imagine her bleak future.

  Li Li rubbed her throbbing temples. She genuinely felt she should join a **"Beagle Victims' Support Group."**

  What was the difference between this ghost and a high-maintenance beagle?

  But she knew she had to smooth things over. She lit three more sticks of incense for Xiao Mei and spoke in her best "gentle mother" voice. "You're different from the ghosts outside. I call the Reapers to collect *them*. But for *you*, I promised to find your missing soul fragments. I'll burn extra incense to make up for what I gave away, okay? Stop crying. Here, eat."

  *Isn't it just because my soul is incomplete that the Reapers **can't** collect me?*

  Xiao Mei thought this loudly but didn't dare say it. She refused to inhale the smoke, just keeping up her rhythmic, pity-inducing sniffles.

  The hiccup-like sounds were drilling into Li Li's brain. Finally, she waved her hand in defeat.

  "Fine. I'll burn you a dress too."

  Being naked all the time wasn't dignified anyway. Li Li had been meaning to make Xiao Mei some clothes. Even as a ghost, streaking affected the neighborhood's feng shui. Li Li had made paper offerings for tomb-sweeping before—paper villas, paper Ferraris, paper servants—so a paper dress should be a piece of cake.

  The sniffles stopped instantly.

  After a pregnant pause, a timid voice asked, "**Is it this season's *haute couture*?**"

  *Wow. You really aim high for a ghost living in a box.*

  Li Li gritted her teeth, forcing a smile. "Yes. **Bespoke. Handmade.**"

  Xiao Mei cheered up immediately, inhaling massive mouthfuls of smoke. "Thank you! You're such a good person!"

  She’d been eyeing that incense the whole time.

  Seeing the crisis averted, Li Li finally sighed in relief. At least she could get some proper sleep now.

  Xiao Xie, who had been shielding its ears (if scorpions had them) with its pincers, crawled back onto the figurine and lay motionless on the talisman paper. Even an insect demon couldn't stand that whining.

  Li Li collapsed onto her mattress and turned off the lamp.

  The room returned to silent darkness, save for the three tiny orange embers of the incense, flickering like distant stars.

  *Sweet dreams.*

  ---

  Days passed peacefully like this.

  As the caretaker of one scorpion and one ghost, Li Li settled into a routine: classes, homework, feeding pets, folding **gold ingots**, burning paper offerings during the day; then more homework, feeding pets, and folding ingots at night.

  Because her debt to the Reapers was massive and the quality of local gold foil was trash, she wasn't sure of the exchange rate. So, she just kept folding blindly. Quantity over quality.

  Sometimes, during lectures where the professor spoke in alien tongues (advanced academic English), Li Li would secretly pull out her gold foil and fold under her desk. This left her index fingers and thumbs permanently stained yellow, like a heavy smoker's.

  Most of the time, Li Li sat alone in the corner.

  Occasionally, late-arriving Chinese students would sit next to her. At first, it was "Fellow countryman! *Tears of joy!*" But the moment Li Li pulled out her stack of funeral paper and started folding with mechanical precision, their expressions changed.

  They came abroad to broaden their horizons, only to end up sitting next to someone performing dark rituals in Macroeconomics. Even the bravest didn't dare ask.

  Eventually, no Chinese students sat next to her anymore.

  However, foreign classmates sometimes drifted into her orbit. Seeing Li Li folding shiny gold shapes, they would ask curiously, "What are those?"

  Li Li could only vaguely reply, "For ancestors."

  Her foreign classmates, having no concept of sending remittance to the afterlife, found this fascinating. Naturally, Li Li couldn't pass up a promotional opportunity. Using her broken English, she haltingly explained Taoist concepts and told them, "If you go to China, you *must* visit a Taoist temple. Very cool. Very spiritual."

  Her naive, sweet-natured classmates eagerly agreed, even asking for a few gold ingots to burn for their own deceased relatives.

  Li Li generously handed them out.

  *These are all potential future clients.*

  The investigation into the **Dark Ascension** plot hadn't progressed. Li Chengxian had ordered her not to act rashly until the high-grade ritual tools arrived from China. Knowing her own limits, Li Li listened to her father. Thus, she settled into a stretch of genuine, albeit weird, international student life.

  There was some good news, though.

  The "Introduce Your Culture" essay she wrote about Taoism had fascinated her professor, earning her an "Excellent."

  Supernatural topics involving gods and ghosts had a market in every country.

  The professor even invited her to give a presentation on it to the class. Li Li initially wanted to decline—public speaking in English was a nightmare—but the professor dropped the magic words:

  "It counts for **extra credit**."

  Li Li sat up straight. "Deal."

  **A/N:**

  For those wondering, the "gold ingots" (yuanbao) Li Li is folding are made of gold foil paper. In Chinese tradition, burning them sends currency to the dead. Doing this in a university lecture hall is... well, let's just say it's a very *unique* way to make friends.

  Also, "Beagle Victims' Support Group"—if you know, you know. Xiao Mei is high-maintenance.

  Schedule: Tue/Thu/Sat ??

  ---