My name is Chen Xiaole. By day, my boss treats me like a dog; by night, my landlord blocks the door to demand rent.
The girl of my dreams walks past with a rich second-generation heir on her arm, looking at me like I’m a trash can.
At the lowest point in my life, I used an old family book to patch a drafty wall. When a drop of blood from my cut finger landed on it, the page suddenly glowed gold.
With half a talisman from the book, I saved my roommate from a ghost pressing down on him in his sleep.
The landlady begged me to deal with the “unclean” presence in her old house, so I nervously went in.
By sheer luck, I really did drive away the vengeful spirit causing trouble.
These days, even Taoist priests have to think about opening a little shop to make a living.
