"Pour it at the doorway?"
I turned back to glance at Grandpa.
Grandpa nodded at me and continued,
"Pour it at the doorway. I can keep them under control. There are about enough of them now, so get ready to use the Black Spirit Flower."
"Alright!"
I answered.
Then I tipped the basin over.
The remaining grains of rice scattered across the ground with a rustle.
The ghosts gathered in the courtyard went completely mad at that moment.
"Good heavens, there are so many!"
"Let me eat! Let me eat!"
"I want to eat! I want to eat!"
"I'm a starving ghost. Let me have another bite!"
"..."
The scene reminded me of Uncle Yu's yin food.
Were all these ghosts fucking starved to death? They were going this crazy over rice?
After scattering the rice, I headed inside.
Some ghosts tried to rush into the house, but Grandpa merely shot them a look.
The ghosts recoiled in terror, forced to stay in the courtyard and fight over the rice...
Then Uncle Yu spoke up.
"Do these ghosts look like they've never received offerings?"
Master nodded as well.
"They certainly do!"
As they spoke, both of them instinctively looked toward Grandpa.
Grandpa heard them but did not answer. A faint smile merely curled at the corner of his mouth.
Could the ghosts Grandpa, as a Mortal-Realm Patrolman, sent off be these ghosts who had never received offerings?
In other words, were they wandering spirits, stray ghosts, or certain specific types of ghosts?
But Grandpa had previously told us not to ask questions related to his occupational classification.
So no one said anything. I could only wait until tonight was over and ask Master in private.
What exactly was so special about Grandpa's mysterious underworld profession, the Mortal-Realm Patrolman...
I set