There are no wails of grief by the coffin. Half a broken talisman is enough to ferry every lonely ghost across.
Lin Siyu was born deaf and is a Celestial Master reincarnated. In her previous life, she spent her days guarding the boundary between yin and yang and was poor her whole life. In this one, she has a reflexive instinct: scrimping.
She tears talisman paper in half to use it and saves her spiritual power whenever she can. When a neighbor asks her to inspect a haunted house, she charges five hundred. The neighbor tries to haggle, and she replies, “No bargaining. I died poor in my last life.”
Then the global horror game arrives. Everyone else enters the game memorizing rules, banding together to escape, and trembling with fear.
The first thing she does after entering is crouch beside a coffin and ask the person inside, “Your feng shui is set up wrong. I can fix it for you. Free of charge.” After a pause, she adds, “But does this game provide meals?”
When evil ghosts shriek, she picks at her ears (not that she can hear them anyway). When malevolent spirits attack, she starts tallying up the debts they owed in life: “You still haven’t cleared your karmic debt, so you won’t make it into the reincarnation queue. Want me to help you sort it out?”
Eventually, everyone knows that her nonstop chatter can annoy even the fiercest ghosts into begging her to help them pass on. The peachwood sword in her hand has slain countless vengeful spirits, yet never harmed a single unjustly killed soul.
No romance, no romantic tension. She can’t be bothered to listen to the troubles of the living, but she’s willing to hear the suffering of lonely ghosts.
