The key was icy cold in her palm. Upon closer inspection, she found engraved characters—she only recognized the first (阴 yīn, "shadow/underworld") and third (巷 xiàng, "alley"). It seemed to be an address.
On the back, a tiny "天" (tiān, "heaven") was etched.
This definitely wasn't her family's paper shop key.
Their shop was at No. 4, Huaihua Alley. Since when did Yuanshan have an alley starting with "Yin"?
"Was it in the new commercial district?"
No—when those plans began, she'd already been the sole survivor of her family. What ancestral shop could this be?
"And the key was ridiculously small, like a toy. What lock could it possibly open?"
"I'd better just look up what these characters mean."
Holding the key in her palm, Song Miaozhu prepared to climb down from the tree. But the moment both feet touched the ground, her palm suddenly stung sharply. She looked down—somewhere on the key had pricked her, and her blood was being completely absorbed into it.
Then, the inscriptions on the key transformed into simplified Chinese characters. She could now read them clearly without needing to look them up.
"No. 414, Yinshui Alley?"
As soon as she read the address aloud, the key sank into her palm and vanished. At the same time, her mind was suddenly flooded with information, overwhelming her senses and causing her to stumble back and sit heavily at the base of the tree.
When she finally sorted through the mess in her head, it felt like her entire understanding of the world had been flipped upside down.
No. 414, Yinshui Alley wasn't in Yuanshan Ancient Town. In fact, it wasn't anywhere in the world of the living.
It was located in Fengdu Ghost City—a ghost shop with an official business license from the Netherworld, ranked at the heavenly tier.
That golden key was the proof of ownership for the shop at 414 Yinshui Alley.
It hadn't disappeared—it had absorbed her blood and recognized her as its new owner, merging into her body. With a single thought, she could summon it.
The tradition of the ghost shop being passed down to daughters but not sons had been set by their founding ancestor.
The previous shopkeeper had been her great-grandmother.
Her great-grandmother had pulled strings, paid bribes, and helped Song Miaozhu's grandparents and parents reincarnate ahead of time. Now that she herself was about to reincarnate, she was in a hurry to pass the shop on to Miaozhu.
In the past, each shopkeeper had inherited the ghost shop only after they died. Only Song Miaozhu was still alive—yet had become the master of a ghost shop.
Fortunately, heavenly-tier ghost shops could connect both the living and the dead. With this key, her soul could travel freely between the world of the living and No. 414, Yinshui Alley.
The ghost currency earned from the shop could be exchanged at the Heaven-Earth (Tiandi) Bank for RMB or other worldly assets.
Safe, confidential, with after-sales support.
The moment she knew the hell coins could be exchanged for RMB, Song Miaozhu stopped panicking. In her money-obsessed mind, it didn't matter if it was a shop for the living or the dead—if it could make money, it was a good shop.
She quickly locked up and went back into her house. She brushed off the dust from the lounge chair in the main room and lay down on it. In the next moment, the key pulled her soul into a cramped little shop.
"So this is No. 414, Yinshui Alley? It's way too small!"
A cold snort came from behind her. Stiffly turning around, Song Miaozhu saw a chubby old woman wearing red-and-green burial clothes, holding a candle holder, and staring at her gloomily.
"Great... Great-Grandma?"
Song Huaihua held a rattan stick in one hand and said in a chilly tone, "Finally decided to show up? If you took any longer, I would've reincarnated already!"
Still haunted by dream-beatings, Song Miaozhu gulped. "It's the 21st century! How was I supposed to know you were real?"
"Hmph!" Song Huaihua glared at her. "I don't have much time left, so listen closely. There are some things I need to explain to you."
"Yes, yes, yes!" Miaozhu immediately sat up straight, ready to listen.
Her great-grandmother's face softened slightly:
"Our Anshou Hall might be small, but it's the only heavenly-tier ghost shop in all of Fengdu. Low taxes, and it connects both realms—that's the only reason you're able to inherit it while still alive.
Unfortunately, our family lacked talent and resources over the years. We couldn't master the essence of our ancestors' paper art, and that's how the shop fell into decline. Still, thanks to our secret techniques, the Song family's spirits have always managed to buy their way into a good reincarnation.
Otherwise, they'd be stuck lingering in Fengdu. Once their ghost lifespan runs out and they don't have a proper destination, they'll never return to the human world.
Hell coins equals ghost lifespan. The more you earn, the better your existence. I won't go into the details—you'll find everything you need in this book, Fengdu: A Handbook for New Ghosts."
Suddenly, a thread-bound book was shoved into her arms with a soft plop. It was surprisingly light, almost weightless. Her great-grandmother walked around behind the counter. "Come here! This is where we store our main inventory."
Song Miaozhu squeezed into the space behind the counter and saw four chests below. Three of them were labeled:
—Grade 1 Ingots: 100 hell coins each
—Grade 2 Ingots: 1,000 hell coins each
—Grade 3 Ingots: 10,000 hell coins each
"Wait—aren't paper ingots just... hell money? Why buy them with hell coins? Didn't living families burn paper money to send wealth below?"
"Burning paper money doesn't send money—it sends lifespan!
Ghost lifespan has many uses. Put it into an ingot, and it becomes hell coins. Turn it into energy, and it becomes ghost power. But the amount of ghost lifespan is fixed at the time of death. If there's any extra, it has to be molded into coins for safekeeping.
Different coin molds have different qualities. Our family's ingots are beautiful, well-crafted, and excellent at preserving ghost lifespan—they're top-tier molds!"
Song Miaozhu's eyes widened. "So… we're basically like a mint for the underworld, printing money and taking a cut? That's a guaranteed profit!"
"Exactly! And heavenly-tier shops only get taxed 1%! Isn't that better than any of your lame jobs?"
Her great-grandmother opened one of the boxes, and the gleam of golden ingots nearly made Miaozhu squint.
"More than a hundred times better!" The childhood dream of hoarding gold ingots and striking it rich—was actually coming true!
Song Huaihua nodded, satisfied. "There are 1,000 first-grade ingots, 500 second-grade, and 100 third-grade in here. Enough to keep you going for a while.
The hell coins you earn can be exchanged for worldly money right here using this."
She opened the final chest and pulled out a golden bowl, no bigger than a palm.
"This is a Treasure Bowl from the Tiandi Bank. No need to leave the shop—you can exchange money right here. I got it during a promotion back when your parents had just died. Used it once, for the money in your dad's account.
But this bowl is low-grade—it can only convert hell coins to RMB, not other assets. Since you'll be traveling between both realms, you might want to visit the bank yourself someday."
Song Miaozhu: "!!!"
So… the inheritance from her parents had actually been exchanged for ghost coins by her great-grandmother?!
Suddenly, the old lady looked a lot more benevolent in Miaozhu's eyes. "Great-Grandma, how's the exchange rate between hell coins and RMB...?"