Chapter 2 is too easy

  In the Catholic Church of Qinglong Mountain in Andong City, the congregation sang a welcome song for the resurrection of God and felt spiritual ease and splendor. However, outside the church, the construction site was filled with the rumbling sound of pile driving, the noisy sounds of work, which made people's hearts feel chaotic and confused.

  At the end of the construction site, there is a three-story small Western-style building, which looks like it was built in the 1930s or 1940s. The whole building gives people a sense of returning to Manchukuo, and the only thing that can give people a modern feel is the wooden signboard at the door - "Manchu History Archives".

  "Ah! Can't take it anymore, let us live!" A hoarse but powerful voice pierced through the windows of the archives, and in that instant, it seemed to have halted the revival of the gods and silenced the commotion on the construction site.

  A man in his fifties with a long, unkempt black beard stood by the window on the third floor of the archives building.

  Behind him stood a young man with a look of surprise, holding a large pile of documents in his hands. A hint of disdain flashed across his face as he raised an eyebrow and said to the middle-aged man, "Uncle Fang, what's wrong with you?"

  He turned around and took a look at this person, seemingly with anger in his heart but not daring to speak out, with a powerful stance that he couldn't release. Following that, he relaxed his expression, as if it was a very disappointed expression, with tears seemingly hidden in his small eyes: "Xiao Zhong ah, the several decades of imperial grain we've been eating seems to have reached its end, sigh!"

  "What's 'imperial grain'?" The young man seemed unfamiliar with the term.

  Two people stood by the window, while seven or eight others sat in the room with their heads hung low. The middle seat was empty, which belonged to a middle-aged man who was the director of this archive. Due to the renovation of the shantytown, the developer included this historic site and one of the few Manchu historical archives into its development project, and it would be demolished soon, so they also faced layoffs.

  And this young man named Qin Zhong, had just graduated from university and came to work here, unfortunately, before the internship period was over, he had to face the crisis of being laid off and finding a job again.

  But in the eyes of this young man, it seems that he didn't take this matter as anything important, only feeling that it was a matter of course: "Demolish if you want to, anyway old buildings will disappear sooner or later."

  "You!" The old curator Fang and several others sitting down cast a furious yet suppressed glance over at the same time.

  An old man with a wrinkled face stood up, pointing at Qin Zhong with his finger, but still didn't vent out the anger in his heart. He choked back for half a day before finally saying: "If you weren't the grandson of Old Evil Qin, I would have...".

  "Ah, never mind," Principal Fang interrupted him.

  Qin Zhong stared blankly at the old man holding a tortoise shell, seemingly understanding something: "I didn't expect you to be fortune-telling here?"

  "Hey, what's up? I'm not bragging, but among all the masters in Andong City, my level is the highest, except for your grandfather. If I were to fight, I'd be unbeatable."

  "Alright, alright, let's not talk about it anymore. Now, let's think about our own paths. As the director of this hall, I have to consider Qin Zhong first, since he is the youngest among us. His grandfather was our benefactor and also the founder of this hall. His father died in an accident for the sake of this hall's construction, so..."

  "Uncle Fang, where are you planning to arrange for me?" Qin Zhong muttered: "Can't even protect myself, forget it."

  "Alas, I'm ashamed to say that after being here for decades, there's no good place to go. Why don't you try another archive? You can't go there either, your seniority is too low, so I'll arrange a factory or mine for you. It's a bit unfair to your grandfather, so I think it would be better if you went to the Catholic church downstairs to work as a director."

  Qin Zhong rubbed his head and rolled his eyes: "You want me to become a monk?"

  "Silly kid, Catholics don't have to become monks, you can still hook up with a Christian chick, I heard the pastor's daughter is really hot!"

  "Very cool?" Qin Zhong was even more bewildered.

  That old devil couldn't help but say: "You bastard, have you tried it? It's said to be very refreshing. I don't know when that stubborn little girl will get married, who would dare marry her!"

  "Shut up, it's alright, Xiao Zhong, you don't have to worry about your affairs anymore. Uncle Fang won't let you starve."

  Qin Zhong still believed in Fang Shu's words, because his father had told him a long time ago that Fang Shu was a close friend of their family and could be relied on for anything. Qin Zhong had met Fang Shu when he was very young, so whenever Fang Shu said something like this, Qin Zhong only replied with the same sentence: "Fang Shu, I trust you."

  "Alright, you two should stop wasting everyone's time here. Anyway, we're all going to disperse, and yet you're still wasting everyone's time. My divination has already told us that there's only one dead end here." said Lao Gui.

  Everyone heard this and seemed to have started a commotion, with someone whispering: "How can this old devil change his words so easily? Two days ago he said there was still hope, but today he says it's a dead end!"

  Uncle Fang slowly walked back to his seat, let out a long sigh: "Little Zhong, bring over a stool, although you've just arrived, but you're also one of our archive members. This might be our last meeting, so let's each talk freely about our future."

  "Isn't there still a chance? Why do you keep sighing, Uncle Fang?" Qin Zhong felt a sense of disappointment towards the weak-willed Uncle Fang, but his words seemed to remind the people present, especially that old ghost who claimed to be invincible.

  The whole scene fell silent, everyone sat in their seats, and in an instant, they all cast their eyes on the old devil.

  The old ghost left his chair, sighing and muttering to himself: "Life is indeed full of vitality, but your eight characters are simply not up to par, unable to bear the weight of reviving this temple."

  "Huh? What do you mean? So you've calculated our eight characters?" asked Fang Shu.

  The old ghost suddenly cast his eerie gaze at Fang Shu: "Yes, I've calculated the birthdays of everyone in our temple, they're all written on our temple's calendar, except... does Qin Zhong count as one of us?"

  "Of course it counts. He comes here for a day, that's one day, why shouldn't it count? Besides, Old Qin is our ancestor, even if he doesn't come, we still have to count." Fang Shu spoke bluntly.

  The old ghost shook his head and scolded himself: "Damn it, at this time, you're still calculating these things. Little Bell, tell your ghost uncle about your eight characters."

  Fang Shu blocked Qin Zhong: "I'll tell you his eight characters."

  Everyone deeply felt the tacit understanding between Qin Zhong and the director, and also heard a round of Qin Zhong's birthday. Only Lao Gui listened most carefully, and after he had written eight characters for Qin Zhong, he suddenly sweated on his forehead and raised his eyebrows: "My mother, you eight characters, according to common sense, aren't you a dead man?"

  Everyone present, including Fang Guan, was stunned and turned pale: "Dead man?"

  Mr. Fang shifted his body slightly to one side, and Qin Zhong habitually held the file bag in his hand and took another step closer to Mr. Fang.

  "Go away, don't come any closer. There's been a ghost disturbance here, you shouldn't get so close to me." Even the closest of friends can't escape that kind of greed for life, and what Fang Shu did was normal too.

  Qin Zhong slammed the file bag on the table, furrowed his brow and glared at Lao Gui: "You say I'm a ghost? What's your basis? I'm still breathing, speaking, and my body has temperature. How can you say I'm dead? Believe it or not, I'll turn you into a dead man."

  "Everyone, please don't be too anxious. I said he's a dead man because his eight characters are too light. Generally, people with light eight characters are very likely to be targeted by evil spirits, and the probability is extremely high. It's just that because of his ancestors' virtues and his own hidden virtues, he didn't die. This is quite normal."

  The old ghost sank into thought for half a day, then picked up the divination symbol he had shaken out earlier, looked at it and burst out laughing. He shook his head afterwards: "It seems I really should retire, go home and set up a stall by the roadside to tell fortunes, this isn't the place for me to stay. Alright, everyone can rest assured, those who want to stay here will stay here, our chance has come."