"Qingmei, it isn't even the Ancestor Worship Festival today. Why is Second Boss suddenly burning spirit money?"
In an unremarkable residence in the outer city, Yin Minghong was burning spirit money in the courtyard. Gray-white paper money danced in the flames and turned to ash, while the rising smoke seemed to paint a scene from another world.
Rongyao, dressed like a grimy laborer, stood by the door and watched Yin Minghong curiously. He had come to go on a mission with Yin Minghong today, but arriving early, he had encountered this scene instead. Naturally, he found it strange—who burned spirit money first thing in the morning?
"Minghong is making offerings to our sworn big brother." Mu Qingmei sat on the steps at the entrance to the main hall, gazing at the burning pile with a nostalgic expression. "Big Brother died three years ago. Today is his death anniversary."
"By the way, why are you standing at the door? Come in and have some tea."
Rongyao shook his head and pointed at his clothes. "I'm filthy right now. It wouldn't be good for me to go inside. I'll just stand here."
"Then go wash up in the back."
"This is a disguise." Rongyao smiled bitterly. "I'm a fugitive slave from the Jing Residence now. I might run into people who know me while I'm out, so I have to get dirty enough that they won't recognize me. Besides, quite a lot of people in the outer city know me."
"Why?" Mu Qingmei asked strangely. "Are you famous?"
"Not famous. I used to be in charge of buying ingredients for the residence, and then..." Rongyao found it somewhat difficult to explain. "Because my parents gave me a good face, all the aunties treated me especially well whenever they saw me. Over time,