False evidence

Chapter 497 Revenue Generation
"Damn it, why are there so many fire ghosts?" Old Li muttered to himself, then asked me, "Did you hear what they were saying when they were kowtowing in front of the coffin?"

I shook my head. The men, women, and children who came in afterward not only kowtowed to the coffin like Zhou Xiaoman and Zhong Lan, but also said a sentence.

But strangely, their voices were at different pitches. I was sure they were saying the same thing, but even the loudest, butcher-like fat man, when he shouted it out, I couldn't make out what he was saying.

"This is not scientific." — Gao He would always say this when faced with some inexplicable situations.

It's really illogical. That fat man not only has a loud voice, but he also speaks very clearly. How come I can't hear what he's saying?

It wasn't that I couldn't understand the syllables; it was as if an automatic shielding device had been added to my ears. I could hear almost everything people said after entering the room, but the one sentence I uttered while kneeling in front of the coffin was completely blocked out of meaning.

"Is nobody here?" Old Li asked.

Where would I find the answer? But still, driven by a strange line of thought, I whispered, "It's probably over."

In the dim light, Old Li nodded slightly: "I think so too. There are forty-seven in total, plus Old Tian and Yingzi from before, making forty-nine. I think if more people come, we'll have to stay in this cabinet for a while longer. If more come, then it seems like we'll have to make eighty-one."

I nodded, completely agreeing.

The Chinese people's emphasis on numbers is difficult for foreigners to understand. The special significance of numbers such as one, nine, eighteen, forty-nine, eighty-one, and one hundred and eight is not worth elaborating on. Anyway, those who grew up in China, whether they have a partial understanding or no understanding at all, still have a special impression of these numbers.

Wang Ben suddenly muttered a curse under his breath. I heard it clearly. I frowned and was about to turn to him when he reached out and pushed open the cabinet door where we were hiding.

"Hey..." I tried to stop him, but it was too late. He didn't give anyone a chance to react. As soon as the cabinet door opened, he darted out like a monkey, jumping and leaping, yet silently and quickly, and ran to the coffin.

At this moment, all three coffins were closed. Wang Ben approached and, without any further action, knelt down and kowtowed to the coffin on the left, then whispered a sentence.

This time, I heard it clearly as it came from his mouth. He said, "This servant pays homage to Your Majesty, long live Your Majesty!"

It also had nine heads, and after standing upright for a long time, the coffin door did not open.

Wang Ben seemed a little dazed. The key point was that he seemed to have completely forgotten about me and Lao Li, his two 'buddies.' He was just a lone figure, with a slightly morbid excitement, yet acting furtively... like a thief.

"What's wrong?" Wang Ben's eyes darted around. "That's it, it's hot! Like being roasted by fire. Could it be... could it be fire?"

I don't understand his thought process; all I saw was him pulling a lighter out of his pocket as he spoke.

Once the lighter was lit, what followed was truly "witnessing a miracle".

The flames leaped upwards, and the coffin door in front of him slowly opened!
Without the slightest hesitation, Wang Ben jumped up, crouched down, and stepped one leg into the coffin when the coffin door was only half open.

"Follow him!" Old Li said quickly in a low voice, and then he ran out of the cabinet.

My brain was practically a decoration by now, so I immediately ran out too.

Old Li ran ahead of me, but that one step separated us completely.

When he ran out of the cupboard, Wang Ben had already stepped into the coffin. Before the coffin door began to close, Old Li resolutely ducked and stepped inside.

I followed them to the front, and the gap between the coffin lid and the opening was less than a foot wide. My trench coat was cumbersome, and instinctively, fearing I'd get caught in the closing lid, I hesitated and stopped, not daring to try and squeeze into the coffin. In that instant, the coffin lid closed.

"Wang Ben!"

"Old Li! Li Xiaoju! Chrysanthemum!"

I called out several times near the coffin, but there was no response.

They tried to lift the coffin lid, but it wouldn't budge no matter which angle they looked at it from, as if it were nailed to the ground.

I couldn't help but swear; this is just too damn damn.

I remember during my freshman year of college, I worked as a temporary worker in an office building during a holiday. The place had extremely strict security; even if you went out for a smoke and then went back in, you had to scan your face to verify your identity at the access control.

So this coffin door is "equipped with a computer-controlled access control system," requiring each person to verify their identity like an attendance system before they can enter?
Damn it, getting into the office building is just like being an idiot and pointing your big, dumb face at the camera. But this coffin door's "access control" seems to require you to kowtow three times and kowtow nine times, and even to admit you're a slave, just to get in.

I can accept someone verbally acknowledging themselves as a lackey; after all, it's just a matter of words.

But when it comes to kowtowing... in all my life, the number of people I've ever been able to kneel before is extremely limited.

Grandpa is a must. The second time I learned about the concept of New Year's money, I saw Hongwa next door kowtow to his grandpa and receive a five-yuan note. I couldn't wait to run home and kowtow to my grandpa three times.

As a result, before I could even straighten up after kowtowing three times, the old man flew into a rage: "I haven't kicked the bucket yet!"

I didn't receive my New Year's money until the following year. As I grew older, it gradually increased from five yuan to ten yuan, then to twenty or fifty yuan...

I kowtow every time, but I don't dare to kowtow three times anymore, one is enough.

Aside from shamelessly begging my grandfather for New Year's money by kowtowing, he also kowtowed to Old Master Bai, the village head.

It was my grandfather who encouraged me to do this.

After giving me five yuan in lucky money the first time, he whispered to me furtively, "Go ask your Uncle Bai for the same thing, and you have to kowtow when you see him. But let me tell you, you should kowtow twice in a row, and only bend halfway on the third time, don't actually kowtow."

"Understood!" I replied 'clever and quick-witted,' glancing sideways at the old man. "Last year I kowtowed to you, and you scolded me. I asked the old lady at the end of the village. Is kowtowing three times during the Lunar New Year considered 'giving someone away'?"

When I told him this, he immediately stretched one leg out in front of me and yelled, "You little bastard..."

He was only halfway through his sentence when I, having just taken five yuan, braced myself on my hands and feet to dodge his 'sneak attack,' and hopped and skipped a short distance to kowtow to the old man a second time.

Then, I straightened up, crossed my arms, and looked at him: "Two kowtows already, one more and you'll..."

"Get lost, you bastard!" The old man still shoved another five-yuan note into my hand, along with another curse.

And so, that day, I really did go off to "generate revenue"...

(End of this chapter)