Qian Lai opened and closed his eyes, only to find himself transported five hundred years into the past, penniless, while the man who had killed him had become the young heir of a powerful Beijing family.
My fate is mine to control, not Heaven's.
Three thousand a month? Fine by me.
Qian Lai could only return to his old trade: livestreaming fortune-telling.
Using cinnabar to mark the boundary between worlds, he opened up a ghost mystery box right in his livestream, connecting directly to the underworld.
At long last, he received a gift from a generous viewer and started making a little money, only for it all to vanish without a trace.
After the livestream ended, he had nowhere to go, so he took advantage of a cheap deal and moved into a haunted house. The moment he arrived, a vicious ghost came to claim his life.
Ghost: “You're greedy to the core. I hate humans more than anything!”
Qian Lai: “I'm not human.”
Ghost: “?”
Qian Lai: “I'm a ghost, just like you. The only difference is that I breathe, have a body temperature, and I'm broke.”
