Chapter 144: You like that kind of old man?

Guo Zaimin was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, he let out a wail, slapped his thigh and said: "Family disgrace must not be aired outside; my daughter is still young, I fear tarnishing her reputation!"

Jin Wuya flared: "What time is this, after all—is reputation more important, or life?"

Guo Zaimin's body collapsed all at once, and with difficulty he spoke the concealed matter out.

In earlier years, Guo Zaimin and his wife had a son.

When the child was four, the couple took over a defunct ceramic Buddha statue factory in the provincial capital.

They originally intended to clean up the factory and do food processing.

The ceramic Buddha statues left over in the factory were all cleared to a small slope behind the factory; to them, these things weren't even worth scrap.

Nearby villagers, if they wanted, could simply rummage in there and take a few good pieces home.

But before the food-processing factory could be built, their son met with misfortune.

The four-year-old child fell among the shards of those ceramic Buddha statues; when found, he had already stiffened from excessive blood loss.

The couple were grief-stricken beyond bearing; at that moment, some rumors reached their ears.

It turned out that this ceramic Buddha statue factory had been abandoned because a worker had fallen into the ceramic-firing kiln and died; afterward the factory remained unsettled, making business impossible.

Guo Zaimin and his wife realized they had gotten into trouble; the production equipment had not even been moved in when the factory ran into trouble, making it hard to sell off.

They gritted their teeth, paid a high price, and brought in an expert from outside.

The expert made a move, telling them that the person who fell into the ceramic kiln had been burned to ash, his soul shattered and fused into the ceramic Buddha statues; the pile of statues they had cleared out had gained a spirit, and by mistreating them they had committed a grave taboo—not only the child, but if not handled properly, they themselves would be incessantly harassed in the future.

The best solution was to fetch a consecrated Buddha statue back and press it down.

Press it for three to five years, and everything will be gone.

So Guo Zaimin spent another large sum and had this gilded Buddha head brought back.

The master was very pleased; before leaving, he instructed Guo Zaimin on two matters.

First, their factory would be best off continuing the ceramic Buddha statue business, since evil spirits traditionally bring unexpected wealth and make big profits easy.

Second, five years later, once this matter is completely settled, if they no longer want to stay in this line of work or worship this Buddha head, they should wrap it in a red cloth and bury it deep in the mountains; they must under no circumstances just throw it away or give it away.

Otherwise, the problem could become even greater then.

Guo Zaimin dared not disobey; he has always devoutly offered worship to the Buddha head.

As the master said, less than a year after worshipping the Buddha head, his ceramic Buddha statue factory boomed, raking in profits overflowing buckets and basins.

Five years passed in the blink of an eye, and Guo Zaimin had become a tycoon of that ceramic factory—how could he possibly stop?

This practice continued for over twenty years.

During that time, the couple suffered the pain of losing their son, were busy with business, and never managed to have another child.

Not until Guo Zaimin was thirty-five did the couple finally have a daughter, whom they cherished as the apple of their eye.

This year the daughter just turned eighteen, got into the university she had hoped for, and is now a freshman.

The couple felt that in this lifetime they had made enough money, their daughter had made them proud, and it was time to plan for their old age, so they sold off the ceramic Buddha statue factory.

Everything had been arranged nicely, but who would have thought—things still went wrong in the end.

At first it was just that the Buddha head would run back on its own; later, during the National Day holiday, their daughter came home from school and suddenly became possessed, clutching the Buddha head all day long.

Saying this, Guo Zaimin wanted to speak but held back.

Everyone in the room stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

He could only stammer: "She says this Buddha head is her husband, that he will soon come to marry her; she refuses to go to school, by day she cuddles with the Buddha head, by night she sleeps holding it, and once, in the middle of the night, her mother got up and actually heard… heard from the child's room that sort of… that sort of sound…"

Everyone fell silent.

Guo Zaimin lowered his head, even wiping away tears.

Their son died horribly, and now their daughter is like this—how could Guo Zaimin and his wife bear it?

Their daughter had just entered college, a promising life just beginning; such a matter is indeed not fit to be spread abroad, and it's no wonder he previously concealed it.

"Hiss..." Hui Moqiong sucked in a breath, saying, "I don't see anything wrong with this Buddha head; aren't you still hiding something you haven't brought out?"

This time, Guo Zaimin declared firmly: "I swear I have not."

"Let's go back and look again," I said. "Search the house thoroughly inside and out, especially your daughter's commonly used items; whatever unreasonable thing you find, first take a photo and send it to us to have a look."

Guo Zaimin answered in the affirmative again, then asked: "What about this Buddha head..."

"Just take it back for now," I said. "Bring it out; your daughter will probably kick up a fuss."

Guo Zaimin was about to cry again.

Jin Wuya hastily wrapped up the Buddha head and took Guo Zaimin back first.

Li Qingying saw them out; I leaned on the sofa, preparing to straighten my thoughts again.

Li Qingying soon came back.

She had just been about to tidy the tea table when Hui Moqiong spoke again: "Hey, Yingying, do you like that kind of old man?"

I and Li Qingying were both startled.

Li Qingying instantly bristled: "Old Fifth Hui, what nonsense are you spouting! Who's an old man? Who I like is none of your business!"

"I'm just giving you a friendly reminder," Hui Moqiong said calmly. "That old man… oh, no, that surnamed Jin fellow—he's a dealer in dubious artifacts; people like him are destined to suffer the five flaws and three deficiencies, he's not short of money nor particularly crippled, his only remaining fate is to die alone and lonely; if you were with him, tsk tsk, the outcome wouldn't be good."

Li Qingying lunged over and began pinching Hui Moqiong's arm; the two went back and forth, ending up in a tangled mess.

I supported my forehead, shrinking into the sofa, feeling a bit headachy.

Before, it was just me and Li Qingying in the pawn shop; she isn't a lively sort, and the shop is usually quiet.

Since Hui Moqiong arrived, Li Qingying's emotions have been hovering on the brink of collapse every day.

The two are like children—whenever they meet, they pinch each other.

It's as if they are destined to clash.

After a while, Hui Moqiong left for the main courtyard; Li Qingying then sat beside me, puffing out her cheeks, her big eyes blinking, the corners of her eyes red.

The little red mole on the tip of her nose was vividly green, almost dripping.

Very angry.

Also seems a bit wronged.

I moved close, leaning against Li Qingying's body, and whispered: "Sister Li Qingying, tell me honestly, do you really like Boss Jin?"

"Ah ya, Xiao Jiu, how can you spout nonsense!" Li Qingying nearly cried, "I just... I just think he's a good person, enthusiastic and skilled, he's helped me a few times; I want to get him to work at our pawnshop, that's all."

"Oh, I see." I thought for a moment, then asked again, "What about Hui Moqiong? What do you think of him?"

"Him? Do I even need to answer?!" Li Qingying said without hesitation, "Annoying pest! Detestable ghost!"

I smiled and said nothing more.

In the evening, I received a call from Jin Wuya, saying he had indeed found something in Guo Zaimin's daughter's room, and asked us to come over.

I agreed, hung up, and Jin Wuya quickly sent over a photo.

The photo showed an unfolded red paper, on which was written Guo Zaimin's daughter's birth characters, with a piece of blood jade pressed on the red paper...