Before Qingming Festival, my boss asked me to go to a Buddhist monastery and light a lamp for his deceased relatives, praying that they would enjoy wealth and peace in their next lives. I did as I was told, even paying extra for a double-length salvation ritual. Later, a handsome man dressed in black came looking for me. Grinding his teeth, he demanded, “Did you seriously perform a month of salvation rites for someone who’s still alive? I’ve practically worn out the Book of Life and Death down there, and I still can’t make the records add up!”
