On the first day of moving, my neighbor knocked on my door and handed me a bowl of hot braised pork - three yellowed finger bones were padded under the meat. I have yin and yang eyes, and I can see their owner lying on the ceiling of my house, smiling at me with a bloody face. Later I learned that there was no one alive in this whole building, and I was their only landlord. Collect rent? They obediently presented the coins and techniques. Dare to make trouble? Sorry, there is a whole street of thousand-year-old demons standing behind me.
