When you put it like that, it makes this ancestor-ghost ponder, should we even be wasting any more of our time on this worthless junior? This ancestor-ghost motions that we all take a ghost-road trip to ghost-La Su Wei Jia Su and set up our own ghost-casinoclan with ghost-cocaineelixirs and ghost-mahjong.
......Whyyyy
Its 2 am here,
now i need to write an omake about this.
okay here it is ( i really should go to sleep already.)
==================================================================================
Guang Li was in debt.
Not
crippling debt—just "I borrowed money from my friends to afford an auction treasure, and now I need to pay them back before they start asking too many questions" debt.
Which meant he needed as much money as possible, as quickly as possible.
Which meant this mission.
It wouldn't cover the full amount, but it was a good chunk. Between him, Ma Fan, and Shu Cai, the risk was manageable, and the rewards were solid.
He just needed to focus and with his ancestors on his side helping him once again he will be fine!.
Unfortunately, this , was right when the ghosts decided to debate whether to abandon him for a ghost-casino road trip.
===============================================================================
The battle started off smoothly.
Shu cai's sword flashed through enemies like lightning. And Ma fen's talismans locked down threats before they could react.
Guang Li?
He was holding his own.
For about thirty seconds.
Then, right as he was about to land a decisive blow—
"I motion that we abandon this useless junior and start a ghost-casino."
Guang Li stumbled mid-strike.
Not now. Not now. Not now.
"Think about it," Poet Xu continued, adjusting his spectral sleeves. "We toil endlessly, offering guidance, risking our spiritual energy for a descendant who is, frankly, mid at best. Wouldn't it be wiser to build our own power base?"
General Guang scoffed. "Ridiculous! What kind of nonsense—
"I second the motion," Second Uncle Wen interrupted, sipping ghost-tea.
"You would."
"I've run the numbers." He held up a spectral abacus. "Guang Li's survival rate?
Marginal. Potential earnings from a ghost-casino? Astronomical."
Poet Xu nodded. "La Su Wei Jia Su is a land of opportunity. We set up a gambling house, use ghost-cocaine elixirs as a marketing gimmick, maybe start an exclusive ghost-mahjong tournament—"
Guang Li barely dodged a spirit beast's claw. "Shut. Up."
Shu Cai glanced at him. "What?"
Guang Li forced a smile. "Nothing."
Meanwhile, Jing clapped her hands. "I third the motion!"
Guang Li nearly tripped. "Jing,
you're ten!"
"That's why I wanna go! They won't let me play mahjong here, plus i want to try that ghost-cocaine!!"
As Guang Li desperately tried to keep up and everything seemed bleak he decided to go for his final option, he reached out for backup from one specific ghost standing to the side.
"Grandpa Ji! A little support here?!"
The old bearded ghost cracked his knuckles. "About time."
Then he summoned his spectral folding chair.
Or… tried to.
Nothing happened.
Grandpa Ji blinked.
"…Where's my chair?"
A long pause.
Then Poet Xu suddenly coughed and refused to meet his eyes.
"Xu," Grandpa Ji said slowly, "where. Is. My. Chair."
"I may have," Poet Xu said carefully, "lost it."
Silence.
A distant beast howled.
Guang Li barely deflected another attack. "Lost it?! What do you mean lost it?!"
"In a mahjong game," Poet Xu admitted. "Against the Jolly Red Ghost King of the icy north ."
Grandpa Ji stared at him. "You bet my legendary Folding chair—"
"I was
winning! Until I wasn't."
Grandpa Ji erupted into a rage. "YOU FOOL! THAT CHAIR HAS BEEN IN THE FAMILY FOR GENERATIONS! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FOLD-SPIRIT-SLAM THIS BEAST WITHOUT IT?!"
*crack*
Guang Li took a direct hit to the ribs breaking a few and causing him to tumble to the ground .
Shu Cai frowned. "Are you okay?"
"I'M SORRY, AM I INTERRUPTING SOMETHING!?, I AM ONLY FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE HERE!!"
In the end, Guang Li still won.
But it was messy.
Since half the ghosts were busy arguing about casinos, Guang Li took more injuries than planned.
Grandpa Ji, fueled by sheer rage, finally stepped in, though not before providing Poet Xu with a ghostly beatdown.
By the time Ma Fan and Shu Cai finished cleaning up the rest of the enemies, Guang Li was bruised, exhausted, and extremely done with his ancestors.
"Okay," Ma Fan said, stretching. "We should be good to go."
Shu Cai glanced at Guang Li. "You look like you got hit more than usual."
Guang Li forced a smile. "Just bad luck."
Meanwhile, the ghosts were still arguing.
"Even if we leave, how are we getting to La Su Wei Jia Su?" Grand-Aunt Bao snapped. "That place is guarded by three spectral wardens and a barrier of karmic debts."
Poet Xu who was nursing a black eye with a bag of spirit ice, waved a hand. "Bribery. Everyone has a price."
"We don't even have any money!"
"That's what the mahjong tournament is for!"
Grandpa Ji cracked his ghostly knuckles. "We're getting my damn chair back first."
Second Uncle Wen sighed. "Fine, fine. One last heist before we go."
Guang Li pressed his hands to his face.
"I
hate my life."
Ma Fan patted his shoulder. "At least you got some money out of this?"
Guang Li thought about the auction, thought about his injuries, and thought about the absolute nonsense that had just happened.
"…Not enough for this."
==============================================================================
