CHAPTER 144: CHAPTER 144: THE MONEY TREE RAN AWAY (FOURTH UPDATE)

"Get the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. I’ll teach you both how to hold the brush, starting with the simplest ’one’." Bai Yunqi was bored from waiting and wanted to find something to do.

Jiang Yuan fiddled with the candle flame, and the orange flame joyously danced.

The flame greedily licked the paper, quickly turning it into black ash, and out of nowhere, a small whirlwind blew the ashes into a heap of heavy gold ingots.

"Ding-ling-clang!"

"Thunk!"

A golden glimmer along with a letter suddenly appeared before Wan An, who was so bewildered that he didn’t even think to reach out and grab them.

This was his first time receiving something burned over from the human world, his mood was tense yet excited, immensely grateful to be staying in his room instead of going out. Otherwise, wouldn’t these suddenly appearing golden ingots drive other ghosts crazy with envy?

Wan An understood the principle of not flaunting wealth.

Therefore, he didn’t even dare to tell Lin Dayou, quickly closing the windows and door before stashing the gold ingots under the bed plank, then taking out the letter to open it.

"This last character is ’Chuan’, no doubt about it. It’s identical to the one the teacher wrote back when I met him in Anping Town — it’s a letter from Mingchuan to me. I need to find a ghost to help read the letter to understand what it says."

To make a living, he had walked around the neighboring streets, knowing that there were ghost scholars who specifically set up stalls to write characters. Writing a letter costs five copper coins, reading a note only two, but now he only had the dazzling big ingots...

Wan An pondered for a moment, then tucked the letter and a gold ingot into his pocket, telling Lin Dayou he was going out for a walk, and headed straight for the bustling and lively Exotic Treasures Pavilion.

This place sold many treasures crafted by ghost cultivators that even ordinary ghosts could use. He had observed many merchants who liked to buy treasures from the Exotic Treasures Pavilion, then dismantle and resell them at high prices for profit.

The most popular item here was pain relief potion.

The Exotic Treasures Pavilion sold it by the bottle, and fifteen silver coins could buy a large one. Purchasers would dilute it with a bit of water for reselling. Though the effect wasn’t as potent as the original, the cheaper price made it more attractive, especially to the many poor ghosts struggling with work-induced ailments who couldn’t afford to save a dime — buying the bargain pain relief potion proved most cost-effective.

The Exotic Treasures Pavilion had a huge footfall of ghosts, many of whom were lavish in their spending, along with profiteers mixing in. Bringing gold ingots here to buy potion was the least likely to draw attention.

Wan An glanced at himself wrapped in silk and satin, no longer resembling his impoverished life before. He felt more confident.

By purchasing potions to resell, he could earn some small money, covertly exchange his gold ingots into loose silver coins, and have the ghost scholar read the letter on the street without it seeming odd — a win on multiple fronts.

Indeed, the attendants at Exotic Treasures Pavilion weren’t fazed by gold ingots, not even giving them a second glance — after all, no matter how beautiful or functional, it belonged to the ordinary category of paper money.

To buy high-end magical treasures or weapons exclusively for ghost cultivators, the Netherworld’s common currency, Cold Crystal Jade, was needed.

Only those who could produce the kind of "jade" glowing with a radiant red hue, imbued with large amounts of Yin Fiend energy, were worthy of the attendants’ higher regard.

"Boy, could you help me read this letter?" Wan An quickly exchanged for a large amount of loose silver coins, clutching a bottle of potion as he emerged from the Exotic Treasures Pavilion and turned to a ghost scholar who had a stall on the street, handing over two copper coins and the letter.

The ghost scholar was dressed in a patched long robe. His stall comprised a writing desk and four treasures of study. Upon seeing this, he respectfully stood up, took the letter, and after reading it, explained with a smile, "Sir, this is a letter written by your grandson, Wan Mingchuan, to you.

It generally expresses how much he misses you. He regrets not having provided a large house for you while alive and instructs you on how to purchase and use a Dream-Inducing Talisman so that you two can meet in dreams. Next, I’ll read it word by word, feel free to ask if anything is unclear..."

Bai Yunqi’s letter was concise, and the ghost scholar’s explanation was thorough. The crucial operation was simple, requiring only to take silver coins to the Exotic Treasures Pavilion, purchase a Dream-Inducing Talisman, and follow the attendant’s instructions to initiate a dream with his grandson.

"Thank you, boy!" Wan An carefully stored away the letter and returned to the Exotic Treasures Pavilion to purchase the Dream-Inducing Talisman.

No sooner had Wan An returned with the talisman than Ma Hongtu received word.

"What? Did you see clearly?" He had just drunk half a bottle of wine, drifting in a state of drunken stupor. The report from the surveillance ghost suddenly sobered him up, jolting his entire ghost realm awake.

The little ghost nodded vigorously, "Absolutely no mistake! The old man went out for the first time to the Exotic Treasures Pavilion, bought a bottle of pain relief potion using a golden ingot. Then he found a ghost scholar on the street to read a letter, and turned around to buy a high-quality Dream-Inducing Talisman and went back home. Now probably... he has already reunited with his family in the dream."

Ma Hongtu slumped in the armchair, his eyes dazed.

After a while, he tossed a few copper coins to dismiss the little ghost.

"It’s over, the Money Tree ran away!" After the ghost left, Ma Hongtu was filled with despair, bitterly pouring another mouthful of wine.

Logically speaking, once one passed into the Netherworld, there were only a few opportunities to burn paper money annually: the ghost birthday, memorial days, Qingming Festival, Ghost Festival, Winter Clothing Festival, etc. Ordinary people burning paper money for ordinary ghosts faced time constraints and might not yield results, thereby preventing an overload of circulated silver coins to some extent.

If a soul in the Netherworld longed for their family or had pressing matters, they could purchase Dream-Inducing Talismans crafted by ghost cultivators, initiate a dream for their family to meet and converse. Even penniless ghosts could buy it through diligent work and thrift, although whether the family believed or heeded after dreaming was another matter.

Ma Hongtu exerted considerable efforts to protect this Money Tree.

Considering that Qingming had just passed, it wasn’t yet the time for worldly paper burning nor ghost birthday or memorial days, even if burned would be blocked by the world’s barriers. Sending paper money must adhere to rules, or else burning it daily and overnight would drown the entire Netherworld under Broken Money Mountain!

However, there were always special circumstances, such as cultivators with mana ability utilizing their power to forcibly breach the world’s barriers, sending paper money in — to plug these loopholes, he specifically cursed both ghosts to ensure even family-burned paper money would be intercepted mid-way.

Countless visible or hidden obstructions secured his intermediary status.

"Even the Yin Messenger’s curse failed, indicating those who wrote and burned paper money for the old man wielded power far beyond me, thus able to ignore the Netherworld’s constraints on ordinary ghosts and my hidden tricks. Could it be Jiang Daoist’s handiwork?" He sighed helplessly.

He had calculated countless possibilities but hadn’t foreseen Jiang Daoist treating his disciple so well, even personally looking after the disciple’s grandfather.

Where can one find justice in this?

"Once paper money is burned, my small tricks will certainly be sensed by Jiang Daoist. If he’s a broad-minded cultivator, he might laugh it off; but if he’s a troublesome figure who disregards the Yin Messenger..." Ma Hongtu’s belated realization made him increasingly anxious, "What to do? This Yin Messenger is just a temporary stand-in that can’t intimidate anyone, what am I supposed to do?"

He looked up at the still dim sky, pondering that understanding a great person’s mind was too challenging — why on earth suddenly burn paper now?

They had just met a few days ago, yet didn’t mind the trouble of forcefully breaking through to send a letter just to dream meet again — could it be something urgent?