Chapter 407

Chapter 407

◎Otherworldly Bargain◎

A hundred thousand yuan was no small amount. In the past, Song Wen couldn’t have scraped together even ten thousand, let alone a hundred thousand. Though he’d earned more these past two years, he’d just bought a house after pinching pennies. While fishing might seem like a low-overhead business, it was still a trade that required honest tax payments.

Taxes, boat repairs, fishing gear, hired help—it all cost money. His fishing boat had recently broken down, and the repairs ate into his savings. With little left, a hundred thousand was truly beyond his reach.

Knowing the young man’s situation had only recently improved, Uncle Song said, “Your life matters more. If you’re short, I can lend it to you.”

Ji Nanxing: “No need for loans. I’ll give you three years to repay.”

Only then did Song Wen relax. “Then I’ll leave it to you, Master.”

Ji Nanxing: “Meet by the reef on the beach at eleven tonight.”

Back home, Xiao Ye searched for shops selling incense and candles. He only had talismans on him and worried Ji Naonao might need more.

Noticing his phone screen, Ji Nanxing said, “We don’t need those. Just bring talismans and prepare a meal.”

Xiao Ye blinked. “A meal?”

Ji Nanxing nodded. “A lingering ghost with no offerings for years. He’s starved long enough—talismans and a meal will suffice to summon him.”

Once summoned, the rest was between Song Wen and the ghost. If Song Wen reneged on his promise, the ghost claiming his life would be fair. But after two years of inaction—likely waiting for Song Wen’s conscience to kick in—this probably wasn’t a vicious spirit. They could likely talk it out.

Long before the appointed time, Song Wen and Uncle Song waited by the reef, still skeptical. The timing was too precise—right after that warning, disaster struck, almost killing Song Wen. They even wondered if it was a setup to extort money.

But the suspicion faded quickly. The two didn’t seem money-hungry. Earlier, they’d rented a big boat just for themselves, not even fishing for profit—just fishing for fun. The contrast was stark.

If they’d wanted profit, they could’ve used the guide’s license to sell the catch. Though technically against policy, such deals were common—no one cared as long as the seller had a permit. Many chartered boats for both fun and side income.

But these two were purely there for leisure, eating their catch without schemes. They paid promptly too, so Song Wen’s doubts wavered again.

After an anxious wait, the pair arrived with a basket. Song Wen and Uncle Song hurried over. “Master.”

Xiao Ye lit their path with a flashlight. The seaside was dark, but nearby restaurants, open until dawn, cast enough light to see.

Ji Nanxing nodded. “I’ll summon the one you owe. Discuss your promise with him. But remember—once a man-ghost deal is struck, it’s binding. If you break it, even the King of Hell would side against you. Living-world contracts hinge on fairness; unfair terms hold no weight. But ghostly pacts are about consent. A meal traded for a life—if both agreed, it stands.”

Song Wen froze. “A deal with a ghost? You mean I owe… a ghost?”

Ji Nanxing: “Naturally. Who else could’ve reversed your fortune in two years? If money came that easy, why were you poor for thirty?”

Song Wen went pale. Debts to people meant lawsuits. But to a ghost? One wrong move could get him killed.

Yet he still couldn’t recall when or how he’d owed a ghost.

Ji Nanxing motioned them aside, placed the food on the reef, then pulled a wisp of lingering ghost energy from Song Wen, winding it around an incense stick.

To the others, it looked like he was waving his hands like some mystic—grabbing at air and looping it around the incense.

Without the ghost’s name or birth details, Ji Nanxing relied on this energy. After lighting the incense, he waited.

When nothing happened, Uncle Song and Song Wen exchanged glances. Just as they opened their mouths, the air turned icy.

The usual coastal chill was one thing—this cold crawled up from the ground, seeping into their ankles before coiling around them. They shuddered.

Here is the edited translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

Xiao Ye remained unaffected. His strong Yang energy kept unrelated spirits at bay, especially when he carried a whole pack of talismans. You'd have to be suicidal to try using Yin energy against him.

Among the four present, only Ji Nanxing could see the spirit that had arrived—a withered, dark, and emaciated old ghost who had clearly been dead for many years. His clothes were barely more than tattered rags, and his eyes glowed hungrily at the sight of the food.

Since the offerings were directly presented to him, he could consume them, wolfing it down like a starving man.

A bowl of rice and three dishes—he shoveled everything into his mouth, cheeks bulging as he chewed frantically. After finishing the food, he inhaled the incense smoke, his ghostly form swaying in bliss as if ascending to heaven.

His eating was so desperate that Ji Nanxing decided not to activate the Heaven's Eye Charm for the two Songs, in case it made them lose their respect and try to manipulate the old ghost.

Unaware of the truth, the two men watched in shock as the food vanished and the three incense sticks burned down at an unnatural speed. Combined with the earlier chill, they grew even more terrified, shooting desperate looks at Ji Nanxing and Xiao Ye.

Ji Nanxing reassured them, "Don’t worry. Before formal negotiations begin, I won’t let him harm you. Once the offerings are complete, I’ll activate the Heaven's Eye Charm so you can discuss matters yourselves."

Song Wen: "..." He didn’t want to negotiate himself. Couldn't the master Taoist handle this? Who volunteers to negotiate with ghosts?

But this wasn’t up to him.

After a while, the old ghost patted his belly and sighed, "Haven’t eaten this well in so long. Though the seasoning was lacking—the fish maw chicken didn’t use the aged cooking wine from Old Chuan’s family in town. Otherwise, it’d be even more delicious."

Ji Nanxing chuckled, "You’ve got quite the palate, old sir."

The ghost smiled modestly. "Not at all, just a glutton for good food. Revered Taoist, this man and I had a deal. He failed to uphold his end, so I acted—not out of malice. I'm the one who got cheated here."

Ji Nanxing nodded. "Precisely because you showed no intent to harm, I offered you this meal. Once I activate the Heaven's Eye Charm for them, you can settle this yourselves."

The ghost agreed, "Sounds reasonable."

Ji Nanxing placed the Heaven's Eye Charm on Old Song and Song Wen. An icy shudder gripped them, and suddenly, a ragged old man stood before their eyes.

They recoiled in shock. Before they could react, the ghost—who had been polite to Ji Nanxing—turned furious, jabbing a finger at Song Wen. "You backstabbing cheat! You tricked me into changing your fortune, then turned your back on our deal! If you dare break your word, I'll haul your ass down to Yama's court!"

Song Wen stumbled back in terror. "Old master, I swear I don't know you!"

The ghost’s rage flared, his Yin energy surging. "Deceitful worm! Had I known you'd renege, I'd never have believed your lies! Since you refuse to honor it, we'll settle this in Diyu!"

Song Wen's face drained of color. Ji Nanxing finally intervened. "Perhaps he genuinely doesn't remember. Why don't you explain the terms of your deal?"

The ghost sighed. "In life, I was once a wealthy young master, then a lowly errand boy, even a bookkeeper for years. But fate was cruel—every time life improved, disaster struck. Even this fishing village couldn't escape the plundering of those evil spirits. Then came a once-in-a-century calamity—failed crops, frozen seas. When I died, my stomach held not even three wild weeds. No descendants, no offerings."

He glared at Song Wen. "Two years ago, this drunkard collapsed on my grave, weeping about his miserable life—his own mother alive but married to another man, unable to care for him. No woman weds a man who can't provide, and he, penniless, feared dying alone. I, born into a great family yet ending up solitary, never married, childless—my heart went out to him. So I offered to adopt him under my name. Take my surname, be my son, and I'd ensure his prosperity."

His fury returned. "But the moment fortune favored him, he forgot! No name change, no offerings—an outrage!"

Ji Nanxing clarified, "So your deal was for him to take your name, become your son, and make annual grave offerings?"

The ghost snapped, "That was before! He owes me two years! From now on, if he wants stability, monthly offerings! Not a single meal missed! I'm not unreasonable—a jin of gold joss paper, a jin of silver joss paper, plus a meal of five dishes with chicken, duck, fish, and meat!"

Ji Nanxing turned to Song Wen. "What do you say to this? This is a blood oath. If you renege, there will be consequences."

Only then did Song Wen recall something. Two years ago, he'd just returned, nearly broke. Renting a boat was hard enough, let alone buying one. His fishing permits were still processing, and every idle day deepened his debt. With no one to confide in and heartbroken over a failed relationship, life felt unbearably bitter.

One night, drunk, he vaguely remembered collapsing by the roadside. He woke in a police station—someone had found him and called for help. The rest was a blur.

Yet strangely, after that, his luck turned. His permits came through quickly. His first haul brought several prized yellow croakers, earning him six figures after taxes.

After several successful trips, he saved enough for his own boat. Though not every trip struck gold, he steadily earned enough to buy his new home.

Here’s the improved translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

If what the old ghost said was true, then he was deeply indebted to him.

And now it was out of his hands. Once haunted by a ghost—whether it offered protection and benefits or not—even if it unreasonably demanded offerings, he'd have no choice but to comply. Monthly offerings weren’t too greedy—just a meal and some gold and silver foil wouldn’t cost much.

Song Wen said, "This is my fault. I get blackout drunk easily after drinking. I own up to my mistake. Please give me another chance, sir. From now on, I’ll make monthly offerings on time without fail. I’ll go first thing tomorrow to ask about the adoption and name change."

A name change was no big deal anyway. He had no clue what became of his real father—whether he'd reincarnated or not—and he hadn't helped him prosper. Now, by acknowledging a ghost as his father and making monthly offerings, he could live comfortably. Honestly, he was the one benefiting from this.

Ji Nanxing looked at the old ghost. "Do you have any objections to this?"

The old ghost replied, "Then give him another chance."

Before eating, he'd been furious enough to want the man dead. But after the meal, feeling the satisfaction of a full stomach, he no longer wanted his life. Keeping him around for monthly offerings and meals was a better deal.

Starving to death was pure agony. For decades—nearly a century—he'd received no offerings. Though some temples held rituals for the dead, as a hungry ghost, he was too scrawny to fight off bigger spirits. It had been miserable.

If not for their compatible birth charts, he wouldn’t have gotten this meal at all.

With both parties in agreement, Ji Nanxing asked for the old ghost's name and birth chart details, taught Song Wen the proper way to make offerings, and even gave him the website of an incense shop. Ordinary shops might not sell genuine gold and silver foil, but this one could vouch for its authenticity. Otherwise, if the offerings were inadequate, the old ghost might come raising hell again.

Only after Song Wen sincerely called the old ghost "Father" did Ji Nanxing remove the Heaven's Eye Charm. "Now that you’ve acknowledged him as your father, better mean it. A yin connection this strong is priceless—cherish it."

Song Wen thanked Ji Nanxing repeatedly and noted down the bank account, finally settling the matter.

Working in this field, he already believed in such things, let alone having seen a ghost firsthand. Song Wen didn’t dare delay. With no ancestral hall and the old ghost having no descendants or records, formal adoption wasn’t possible. He simply changed his surname and, following the ghost's directions, hired someone to relocate the bones for easier offerings.

Every month without fail, he made offerings. When he had a particularly good haul, he'd bring extra wine and dishes to thank his ghostly father, sitting by the grave to chat about daily life. Though he never got a response, he treated him like family, sharing his thoughts.

After decades of loneliness with no offerings, the old ghost was overjoyed to finally have incense and a descendant.

Within two years, Song Wen fully repaid the 100,000 yuan debt and thanked Ji Nanxing profusely. Later, when they came for a New Year’s visit, he gifted them rare wild game.

Years passed, and Song Wen built up some savings. Introduced to a partner, he married and had a daughter. The day after bringing his wife fresh out of childbirth and their chubby baby girl to pay respects, the old ghost appeared in his dream, revealing buried gold bars—a gift for his granddaughter—giving Song Wen a nice little payday.

By the time his daughter grew up, married, and had children of her own, Song Wen dreamed of the old ghost again. This time, the ghost said that after years of full meals, he'd finally gotten the chance to reincarnate and no longer needed offerings. Waking up, Song Wen soaked his pillow with tears. His memories of his real father were faint—he'd passed too early. He'd once thought his familial bonds were thin, but this ghostly father had given him decades of paternal love and protection. It was truly a blessing.