Li Xiang died suddenly. When he opened his eyes again, he had become the director of a funeral home in Republican-era China. His assets: three ramshackle rooms, seven coffins, and one hanging ghost. Other transmigrators fight and kill; he pulls out Excel instead:
“Paper doll moved without authorization? Fine of 50 silver dollars.”
“Vengeful spirit operating without a license? Pay your back taxes.”
“Hungry ghost applying for a job? Sign a contract and pay into social insurance and housing fund.”
The rundown funeral home becomes a folk-custom museum earning a fortune every day.
Then he opens one of the coffins, and finds his own previous life's corpse inside.
Then he discovers that the greatest supernatural terror in this world is himself.
What I wrote was completely incoherent and nonsensical.
It's pretty good, I'll keep watching.