Late Night Bookstore - Chapter 30

“Was that too much?”

This was a question Zhou Ze couldn’t answer. Whether the little girl was speaking the truth or not, he wasn’t in a position to probe further.

It was frustrating, but that was reality.

When the little girl from Rongcheng spoke of her “kindred spirit” in Rongcheng, who aspired to be a judge among the living despite being a ghost, Zhou Ze felt admiration and respect for him, yet his fate was lamentable.

When you lack the power to stand on equal footing with others, you have no right to question them, let alone critique them.

“Boring,” the girl shook her head, then chuckled slightly, “But that’s exactly what I like about you.”

The little girl continued holding her book, looking as if she was about to fall asleep, and murmured, “You’re the person with the clearest sense of boundaries I’ve ever met.”

“……” Zhou Ze.

Was that a compliment or an insult?

“I have to go,” the little girl seemed to be growing sleepier, more weary.

“I have one more question. Is there any way to improve or fix the issues with eating and sleeping?” This was the question Zhou Ze most wanted to ask and the one he was most eager to resolve.

Ever since he had returned from the dead, aside from these two issues, he could perfectly integrate into regular social life.

“In terms of stability, an assembled computer is not as good as an original one,” the little girl said weakly, shaking her head. “As for sleeping, unless you have a Yin entity that has crawled out of hell by your side, creating a hell-like magnetic field environment for you, there’s no way you’ll be able to rest.

Since you’re someone from Hell lingering in the human world, it’s severe acclimatization. You’re lucky you have some special techniques to cope. Other people wouldn’t be able to sleep at all and would go insane or die within six months from exhaustion.

So, consider yourself fortunate.”

The girl laughed softly again, “If I didn’t need to go back, you could hold me to sleep.”

“……” Zhou Ze.

“As for eating, I still can’t get used to human food.”

After saying this, the little girl’s head tilted to the side, and she fell asleep. Zhou Ze reached out to support her, and when he confirmed she was still breathing and her body was normal, he relaxed a little.

Zhou Ze, who was a doctor in the past, could tell that she wasn’t in any serious condition.

This little one was Wang Ke’s daughter; Zhou Ze couldn’t just stand by and let something happen to her.

Still, Zhou Ze felt a little disappointed at her rather ordinary departure.

“Shouldn’t it be like a ‘biu’ sound as she vanishes into the ground instead of just falling asleep and returning that way?” Zhou Ze muttered to himself.

It was neither impressive nor dramatic, like drawing a symbol in the palm of your hand; it lacked any sense of ritual or elegance.

Suddenly, the girl in his arms opened her eyes and said, “Alright.”

Zhou Ze froze for a moment—she had been pretending to sleep!

In the next instant, a thick aura of Yin energy, so dense it seemed to condense into droplets, emanated from her. Despite the central heating in Zhou Ze’s bookstore, the temperature dropped sharply.

Although the doors were shut, gusts of chilling wind surged inside, ruffling the pages of books.

A towering shadow engulfed the area like a beast awakening, radiating an intimidating pressure only ghosts could sense.

Zhou Ze’s nails grew out again, reacting to this stimulation, and he felt a surge of energy, as if his own power was responding to hers.

Then, with a “biu!” sound, all the Yin energy rushed into a single point on the ground in an instant.

In mere moments, the cloud dispersed, the temperature rose, and sunlight streamed in.

For a moment, it felt like an echo of a well-known saying: “Like a bird returning to the forest, leaving the world in a desolate purity.¹”

……………

By evening, Xu Qinglang brought dinner, but instead of plum juice, he had substituted it with bitter melon juice.

“The plum juice is gone, so we’ll have to make do with bitter melon juice,” Xu Qinglang said sheepishly, recalling how terrified he’d been when he saw the little girl during the day.

Xu Qinglang knew well he was both cowardly and inadequate. When his parents had been taken by her, he didn’t dare confront her, nor did he dare resist; he could only kneel and plead like a weakling. He had even tried to poison Zhou Ze out of resentment.

But now, he’d come to terms with it. Cowardly as he was, he was simply a low-level mystic with a natural Yin-Yang eye. He lacked the courage to stand up to Hell’s enforcers.

In fact, the little girl could have punished him for holding his parents’ souls, even taking his lifespan or his soul back to Hell.

Since she treated him like nothing and released him, there was no need for him to keep making a scene.

Humans couldn’t be resurrected after death, and his actions had indeed defied the natural order.

After eating, Zhou Ze placed 1,000 yuan in front of Xu Qinglang.

“This covers previous meals and a bit in advance. Let me know when you need more.”

“Oh, you’ve come into money?” Xu Qinglang finally smiled, then pushed the money back, saying gently, “Life is tough—don’t be wasteful. Think of your family.”

“……” Zhou Ze.

“I’m a man with over twenty properties. I’m not interested in your little money.”

“……” Zhou Ze.

Zhou Ze wanted to say that he would soon have money, as long as he continued making money off the dead and then burned some ghost money at the door for fun. Then, some idiot would come to the entrance of his shop and drop a wallet, acting as a money-giving deity.

But then he reconsidered.

Even if he burned a truckload of ghost money, he couldn’t conjure twenty houses. Not unless an armored car broke down outside his shop…

“I’m thinking about moving my shop. What about you?” Xu Qinglang suddenly asked.

“To where?”

“Anywhere would be better than here,” Xu Qinglang chuckled. “I’m planning to move the noodle shop down to a nearby town. Though it’s a bit smaller, at least it’s more lively.”

“I’ll think about it,” Zhou Ze replied noncommittally.

“Alright, I’ll head out now.”

Xu Qinglang cleared the dishes and walked out of the ghost shop.

Meanwhile, Zhou Ze was trimming his nails, glancing now and then at the sigil in his palm. It was already evening, but there were still no customers. Before, he had drifted along, but now that he saw the possibility of earning, his motivation surged.

Why aren’t customers showing up?

Didn’t she say I’m like a bright incandescent light?

Bright enough to blind any ghostly eyes?

Come on, did they all get blinded and lose their way?

“Creak…”

The bookstore door opened, and two women walked in.

One was quite young, around the same age as Zhou Ze (Xu Le), while the other appeared to be nearing fifty, possibly her mother.

Zhou Ze recognized the young woman.

She was his first customer when he opened. At the time, she had come in with a corgi. After sitting and reading for a while, she left him 100 yuan, his first income.

This time, though, she hadn’t brought the corgi; she had brought her mother.

“Sit here, be careful and check if it’s clean,” The woman said to the girl.

The girl bent down, took out a tissue, wiped the plastic stool, and then sat down with a sense of defeat.

“Take a look at a book, dear. There are no problems in life that can’t be solved, and no hurdles you can’t get over. Just open your mind,” The woman continued to comfort her nearby.

The girl sighed deeply, still looking disheartened, apparently not taking in the advice.

“Read a book, dear. Time will fly by when you’re immersed in a book,” the woman comforted the girl, crouching beside her with a sympathetic expression, embodying a mother’s universal tenderness.

Zhou Ze continued trimming his nails, ignoring the scene.

Then the girl looked at Zhou Ze and softly called, “Boss.”

The girl’s voice was gentle and sorrowful, like someone who had just been heartbroken and was in her most vulnerable state.

Of course, to a seasoned observer, this moment would seem like the perfect opportunity to “slip in.”

“You’re the owner, aren’t you?” The older woman looked at Zhou Ze, standing protectively like a mother hen.

“What’s the matter?” Zhou Ze asked.

“What are your intentions?” she asked protectively. “Dear, don’t pay him any mind.”

The girl remained silent for a moment, then spoke up, “Beibei is gone.”

Beibei must be the name of the corgi.

“Gone?” Zhou Ze asked.

“Yes, gone,” the girl’s eyes were red, as if remembering her dog, and tears welled up. “I was cleaning, and it slipped out of the house without me noticing.”

“If it’s lost, you can always buy another. Why cry over it?” The older woman continued to console the girl.

Zhou Ze stood up and walked over.

“What are you doing?” the woman questioned him.

“You’ll find it,” he said to the girl, ignoring the older woman’s words.

“Mm.”

The girl leaned in and hugged Zhou Ze’s shoulder, crying softly.

“What’s wrong with you? She lost a dog, not a boyfriend! What’s the point of comforting her?” The woman tried to pull Zhou Ze away.

“Is this your place to be speaking?”

A glimmer of dark energy flashed in Zhou Ze’s eyes.

The older woman shrieked in fright, curling up on the ground, too scared to say another word.

“What’s wrong?” The girl looked up, confused, not understanding who Zhou Ze had been talking to.

Zhou Ze gently released the girl. When someone was at their lowest emotional point, that was also when the three soul lamps on their body were the weakest, making it easy for malevolent spirits to latch onto them.

Fortunately, this woman was mostly lonely and overly talkative—not inherently bad.

“I posted a notice online. I want to find it again,” the girl said, showing him her phone with a picture of the dog.

“Have you seen it, boss?”

Zhou Ze gave a wry smile. Business was so dead here that even people rarely came, let alone dogs.

But just then, the woman on the floor cried out, “I’ve seen that dog! It was in my neighborhood!

I couldn’t stay home when my husband was messing around with that little vixen, so I went for a walk and saw someone walking this very dog!”

TL Notes:

1. Like a bird returning to the forest, leaving the world in a desolate purity – It is an excerpt from the Chinese classic novel “Dream of the Red Chamber” (红楼梦) by Cao Xueqin. The original line is often used to evoke a sense of loss, emptiness, or the inevitability of things returning to nothingness.