Want a Ghost Busted, Sweetie? No Discounts, but We Throw in a Screaming Package

Food delivery rider Lu Xiaochi took a ghost customer’s advice and inherited the rundown Duer Tang shop. The pay was three thousand a month, plus performance bonuses for catching ghosts (fail to catch any and they dock your meal money). His two partners were both oddballs: an arrogant Taoist who drew talismans like he was spraying QR codes, and a sociable forensic examiner whose scalpel was handier than a peachwood sword.

The trio’s ghost-hunting routine was absurd and hilarious: helping a jumping ghost find limited-edition shoes, only to discover it had become tangled in Sadako’s hair; counseling a workaholic ghost and getting manipulated in return; exorcising an old house with a mop for a peachwood sword, using a delivery bag to trap a vicious ghost, while the forensic examiner crouched nearby taking notes: “Resentment level = a programmer who’s worked overtime for three months straight.”

From a rookie chased by ghosts to an “industry insider” who could bargain with them, Lu Xiaochi learned the truth: these days, ghost hunters need to know how to fix routers, unclog toilets, and even help ghosts snag concert tickets. Poor ghosts? They can pay with good reviews!

(Warning: Don’t eat luosifen late at night. It may attract starving ghosts.)