The Family's Inherited Malice

Xiao Ran lightly flicked his brush a few times, and the evil spirit that had just run out the door turned around and came back, its face full of terror.

There was nothing more despairing than this: knowing you were doomed if you went back, yet your legs refused to obey and carried you right back anyway.

It hadn't even entered the shop before it began shouting, "Let me go! Or I'll kill you! I'll haunt you every day from now on and make sure your family never knows a moment's peace!"

Xiao Ran flicked his brush. The evil spirit's body abruptly lurched to the left, pulled along by the brush, and slammed into the wall against its will.

Before it could recover, it rolled forward and crashed face-first onto the ground.

Left and right, up and down—Xiao Ran swept his brush, and the evil spirit's body swayed uncontrollably from side to side, tumbling until it was thoroughly battered.

Before long, it was like a frostbitten eggplant, its fight gone.

Only after he'd had his fun did Xiao Ran flick his brush and drag the spirit back into the shop.

The evil spirit put on a long face and set the sack of salt on the table.

Xiao Ran's fingers moved across the abacus, and the beads clicked rapidly. Each sound seemed to strike the spirit right in the heart. "Taking something without asking is stealing. Passing off stones as money is fraud. Running away when you're caught is robbery. How do you think I ought to deal with you?"

The evil spirit stood awkwardly beside the counter. "I... I... Could I repay you in flesh?"

The abacus beads under Xiao Ran's fingers stopped. He turned to size up the fellow, his gaze suddenly turning cold.

Realizing Xiao Ran had