Wishing Monkey's Paw, Fortune Golden Lotus

"Guys, are you ready?"

The bald manager took a suona from one of the employees and shouted loudly.

"Ready!"

The employees holding all kinds of instruments and ritual implements answered.

"Kang Sang Amida, music, go, go, go!"

"Woooah!"

The bald manager put the mouthpiece to his lips. His cheeks puffed in and out, and the piercing sound of the suona rang through the sky.

"If you pass away, remember to hire a Taoist priest. Monks and priests are okay too, but Taoist priests are best. Burn spirit money, talisman paper, soul-guiding paper, and banner paper. Those others can't handle it. They can only chant a few words."

The funeral band's lead singer sang at the top of his lungs. His highly penetrating bel canto voice temporarily overwhelmed even the suona.

"You look carefree, probably dead already. I wear a mournful face, barely able to live. If you still want someone to pay respects to you later, lend me some karmic virtue to ward off disaster!"

"Filial son, hurry up and kowtow to thank your ancestors!"

the bald manager shouted.

Without hesitation, Liu Zheng dropped to his knees and gave three hard kowtows, hitting so hard that he cracked his skull.

"The filial son is sincere enough to move heaven and earth. Ancestors, souls, return!"

the bald manager declared.

Chilling gusts of wind rose from the ground and swirled around Liu Zheng.

Endless ghostly chatter mixed into the wind, making him feel like a model being judged by a panel of critics.

"Ancestors, souls, return!"

the bald manager shouted again.

The yin wind grew fiercer, but that was all.

"Ancestors who bless their descendants are ancestors. Those who don't are just old bastards. Don't push your luck. Believe me, I'll dig up your coffins and toss your ashes into the Sewer