Blessings and Debts

My name is Qin Lang. I'm twenty-six. I used to drive an ambulance, but now I'm unemployed.

Three months ago, I took a detour to save a homeless man. He survived, and I lost my job.

Old Zhou said, “Stopping was both a debt and a blessing.”

Later, I found a black coin, hard as stone. The previous bearer had left it behind.

And he left more than just the coin: a white puffball sneaking around the house at midnight for snacks, a shadow at the end of the hall that was always yawning, and a breeze on the balcony putting on lipstick in front of the mirror.

They don't call me Host. They call me “the next one.”

The Underworld sends me jobs, and I get paid by the case. One ironclad rule: when you see death, don't say what it is.

The clients are more outrageous than the last: people saving goldfish, people selling their lives, dead people writing thank-you letters...

Only later did I learn that everyone who could see them left behind one thing they couldn't let go of.

I still haven't decided what mine will be.