Zhong Kui sat bolt upright on his bed, plucking at a tuft of beard as hard as an ink stick, and wondered if he’d just had an outrageous dream. He’d dreamed that the King of Hell sent him a performance review that read: “This month’s KPIs: 3 evil spirits, 2 lost souls, 1 scapegoat (occasional).”
He was just about to crumple the review into a ball and stuff it back into his dream when there came a sudden “clang” outside. The door knocker spun around three times on its own, like a cheesy transition in a short video. A bright red soul-arrest warrant slapped onto the door, its edges carrying the fragrance of Meng Po’s soup: “West Market, Chang’an City. Li San’s noodle shop. Every day at the hour of the Dog, a lamp’s reflection drinks by itself, and blood drips from the rim of the bowl. Suspected ‘ghost who hangs from the lamp for unpaid debts.’ Please report immediately, Justice Zhong.”
“An unpaid-debt ghost?” Zhong Kui perked up at once, and so did his beard, like a brush that could catch the wind. He put on his official robes, slung the Seven-Star Soul-Locking Chain over his back, and tucked three magical tools into his arms: a demon-revealing bronze mirror (inscribed on the back: “Beauty filter included. Use with caution”), a bundle of yellow talismans (drawn in cinnabar, ground with glutinous-rice water, stamped in the upper left with the seal “Zhong”), and a wolf-hair brush (it sneezed whenever its cap was removed; it had allergies). He picked up the wine gourd at his waist, took a sip of wake-up wine, then stuck on a small note reading “No drinking outside work hours” to set himself some rules.
