Chen Gang, a sanda coach, has never believed in the supernatural.
That is, until he rented a haunted house because it was cheap and started getting pinned down by a ghost at exactly three every night. On the fifth day, dark circles under his eyes, he stuck a sheet of A4 paper by his bed. It read: “Can we negotiate? How about three in the afternoon instead? I have classes in the morning.”
That night, he dreamed of a dripping-wet figure standing at the foot of his bed. It murmured, “...You're the first person who's ever tried to bargain with me.”
The next day, Chen Gang's forehead was dark enough to shine, and while teaching, he threw a student over his shoulder and into the training pit.
In the park, an old man named Zhang Buxuan was playing a match-three game on his old-fashioned phone. He spotted Chen Gang and raised an eyebrow. “Well, would you look at that, two for the price of one. You've got one riding on your back, and another tucked in your arms.” He meant the baleful energy and the vengeful spirit that was about to form.
“Sir, we shouldn't believe in superstition,” Chen Gang said.
Zhang Buxuan handed him the phone. “Get me past this level, and I'll teach you a trick that'll let you sleep through the night. If it works, you buy me barbecue. If it doesn't, I'll pay you damages for emotional distress.”
Skeptical, Chen Gang took the phone. Ten minutes later, he stared at the victory screen, then at the old man's shrewd eyes, and thought... maybe this wasn't such a bad deal after all?
He had no idea that this barbecue would roast his ordinary life away for good.
