"None left. Didn't you buy over a hundred jin? Wasn't that enough?"
"The more of something this good, the better. I'll take however much you have—how could I possibly think it's too much?" Weng Qian eagerly suggested. "Next time you want to sell this stuff, there's no need to put it up in the group. I can take as much as you've got."
Lu Ao's voice was somewhat low. "All right. If there's any next time, I'll give you priority."
"Then it's settled." Only then did Weng Qian realize something. "Did something happen on your end? Why do I feel like you're not in much of a mood?"
"No. It's the Ghost Festival today. I just miss my family a little."
"Oh." Weng Qian paused. "My condolences."
"Thank you."
After hanging up, Lu Ao simply turned off his phone because he did not want to receive any more calls.
Seeing him like this, Song Zhou gently rubbed his head and said nothing.
For the Ghost Festival, they had to fold gold ingots, make octopus rice, and slaughter a duck.
In previous years, Lu Ao had done all of this alone. He was used to it by now, so it was not difficult. It was just that this year, there was one more person folding gold ingots.
As Lu Ao folded the ingots, he sighed unhappily. He raised his head and asked Song Zhou, "Is there an Underworld here? Are there ghosts?"
"There are souls, but no Underworld." Song Zhou deftly folded a gold ingot and gently placed it atop the pile. "Souls disperse very quickly, transforming into Soul Particles before reincarnating. Your parents' souls are already gone."
Lu Ao's hands stopped. After a long while, he softly murmured, "It's a good thing that they're gone."
Song Zhou said, "Perhaps most