After a brief one-day break, Jing Nian still had to head to work with the little rabbit tucked close.
The elevator stopped at the negative 444th floor, and as the doors slowly opened, a terrifying, enlarged ghostly face suddenly pressed right up against him.
It was a resentful spirit filled with bitterness—a green-faced, fanged apparition with black blood oozing from its eye sockets, lunging toward Jing Nian with its bloody maw wide open. Yet, the soul-binding chains tightly wrapped around it prevented any struggle from breaking free.
Jiang Yu sheepishly peeked out from behind the resentful spirit. “Sorry, Nian Nian. There are so many souls lately that hell is completely full. I haven’t had time to lock them all up yet.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine!!”
Jing Nian wasn’t frightened, but the little rabbit perched on his shoulder was thoroughly terrified, puffing up into a ball of fur and burrowing into his clothes.
“Squeak! You scared the little rabbit to death!!”
Jing Nian entered the office, plucked the little rabbit from his shoulder, and tossed it onto the desk. “Green tea rabbit, stop pretending to be delicate. Where’s that skill of bullying stray cats?”
The little rabbit bristled. “Bad Nian Nian!”
Sulking, the little rabbit plopped down on the desk. Jing Nian ignored it, and after three minutes, he noticed the little creature sneaking around, looking ready to bolt at any moment.
“You’re not going anywhere today.”
A sinister voice rang out. “Stay put. I’ll be keeping an eye on you myself, or else…”
Jing Nian’s slender fingers lightly flicked the hand towel hanging nearby.
Another hand towel warning!
The little rabbit puffed out its cheeks angrily, burrowed headfirst into its own little nest, leaving only a fluffy butt facing outward, its entire body radiating defiance.
Bad Nian Nian!
The little rabbit was originally raised by Jing Nian to keep him company at work, but instead, it spent its days leaping around, provoking cats and teasing dogs. You could spot it everywhere except the office or by Jing Nian’s side.
After stewing in its nest for a short while, the little rabbit emerged, lured by the scent of pastries and alfalfa grass.
There’s something tasty!
The office door swung open as Chi strode in carrying snacks, announcing cheerfully, “Just ran into a clueless resentful spirit lunging at me in the elevator.”
He placed the snacks on Jing Nian’s desk. “Zi Lian made these fresh this morning. Give them a try.”
Jing Nian tilted his head. “You didn’t scatter it to pieces, did you?”
“Jiang Yu seemed a bit overwhelmed, so I just gave him a hand.”
This was exactly why Qiu Huai had sent the two of them out to collect souls—both harbored a touch of violence. Left unchecked, the underworld would lose at least one soul every day.
Within half a year, they’d face a crisis of plummeting ghost populations.
Meanwhile, the little rabbit dove headfirst into the snack bag, digging out a box of alfalfa grass and rubbing its tiny paws together in anticipation.
Jing Nian shot it a disdainful look. “How old are you, still eating alfalfa grass?”
The little rabbit snorted, stuffing its mouth and mumbling in protest, “Hmph, why do you care so much…”
Soul collection operated on a shift system. Today was Jing Nian’s shift, and if nothing unusual happened, Chi didn’t need to come in at all.
But every day before Jing Nian’s departure was an unusual circumstance.
There were only three ghost envoys—one to watch over souls and two to collect them. With one position left vacant, it couldn’t be filled anytime soon. Coupled with Qiu Huai’s inability to offer high wages, once Jing Nian left, the entire burden would naturally fall on Chi’s shoulders.
Chi fiddled despairingly with the documents. “Nian Nian, did you report this anomaly yesterday?”
Jing Nian responded, “It’s in our neighborhood, but I still have a month left before I resign. I should be able to handle it by then?”
“No rush.”
Anomalies were like hot potatoes—they required careful investigation, and no one wanted to take on extra work.
For now, the progress was being handled by the ghost messengers under their supervision. If they couldn’t resolve it, then the higher-ups would step in.
“He can’t afford to take his time.”
“From now on, all soul-reaping duties across the mortal realm will be Chi’s responsibility.”
A cheeky voice chimed in as Qiu Huai swaggered over, patting Chi on the shoulder. “You’re always holed up at home with your love life—how can you compare to our hardworking Nian Nian!”
Chi turned his head, narrowing his eyes threateningly. “Qiu Huai, disrespecting your elders will earn you a beating.”
Jing Nian: …Me? A hard worker?
“Talking nonsense, Qiu Huai. Do you have something to ask of me?”
“See, Nian Nian gets me!” Qiu Huai shot Chi a glare before turning to Jing Nian with an ingratiating smile. “Nian Nian, why don’t you just stay? In a month, we can sign a new contract. I’ll give you double this guy’s salary.”
Chi chimed in sarcastically from the side, “Double of three thousand is six thousand—just enough for Nian Nian to cover rent.”
Qiu Huai protested loudly, “That’s still too little?! In this job market, if you don’t take it, someone else will!”
“If you hadn’t married into your father’s wealth and lived off his money, you wouldn’t even find a job paying three thousand!”
“Oh.” Chi remained unfazed. “Then just hire a new employee for three thousand.”
Jing Nian fanned the flames from the side. “Brother Chi has a point. I’ll leave when my time’s up anyway.”
Qiu Huai often used the higher-ups’ employment situation to pressure the lower-level employees, but any random ghost hunter in the mortal realm earned more than the underworld’s staff.
The only advantage was job security—the pay was low, but it was stable.
Dejected, Qiu Huai pulled out a soul file from his robe and handed it to Jing Nian. “Focus on reaping this one today. The other souls can wait a bit.”
There had often been souls requiring special attention before, so Jing Nian glanced at it without paying much mind.
It wasn’t until he stuffed a few pastries into his mouth, packed his things, and prepared to head out to check the location that he realized this soul was at the same hotel Qiu Huai had taken him to last time.
Little Rabbit, perched on his shoulder, glanced at the screen and twitched its ears. “Probably just a coincidence, right?”
…
Jing Nian arrived at the hotel lobby with a belly full of suspicions.
He spotted his target at a glance.
The man was brimming with hostility, the epitome of a nouveau riche, stumbling drunkenly as he walked. As he passed Jing Nian, his shoulder bumped heavily into him.
He stopped, squinting to examine the young man who, despite his gloomy aura, was strikingly beautiful. Grinning to reveal a large gold tooth, he wore a disgusting smile. “Hey… little beauty all alone here… what’re you up to?”
Jing Nian’s lips drooped, not even bothering to lift his eyelids. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
It wasn’t uncommon for those on the brink of death to covet his looks. Without exception, they all ended up kneeling more obediently than anyone when their time came.
“Hey, the little beauty’s got quite the temper…” The man reached out to touch Jing Nian’s face.
And grasped at empty air.
He snapped back to attention. The hallway was clearly empty. The beautiful young man from moments ago had vanished into thin air.
A flash of those icy eyes crossed his mind. Though they held no particular emotion, they inexplicably sent a chill down his spine, breaking him out in a cold sweat.
Jing Nian had already returned to the lobby. The lounge area offered complimentary drinks, so he went over to order a glass of orange juice from the attendant.
In less than twenty minutes, the man from earlier would meet his end.
While waiting, he curled up on the sofa, closing his eyes as a wave of drowsiness washed over him.
It wasn’t from exhaustion—it was because Xiao Tu had dragged him into playing video games all night long.
Xiao Tu was a gaming fanatic who often complained about his lack of skill, insisting that if he didn’t have to carry Nian Nian, he’d already be the top-ranked player in the country.
The hotel doors swung open, and a tall, handsome man strode in, bringing a chill with him. The hotel manager followed closely behind, wearing an ingratiating smile.
“Chairman Jiang, I didn’t expect you to come in person again today…”
Jiang Jue suddenly raised a hand to cut him off, his gaze settling on the lounge area in the lobby. His expression softened instantly.
Because there, curled up on the sofa, was a familiar figure.
Jing Nian leaned back against the cushions, eyes closed as if asleep or perhaps simply resting. A few stray strands of hair fell across his forehead.
Jiang Jue watched for a moment before turning to ask the lobby attendant about the situation. Then, under the manager’s astonished gaze, he personally picked up a glass of orange juice and walked toward the lounge.
Jing Nian opened his eyes the moment someone approached.
“Mr. Jing, your orange juice,” Jiang Jue said as he sat down beside him, a light chuckle in his voice.
Jing Nian cradled the glass in his hands, warming them. “…Thank you.”
But why is it you again?
He noticed the wristwatch on Jiang Jue’s arm.
He’d heard of this brand—seven figures.
A price tag as long as a landline number.
A watch so expensive it could buy his life. Whether it was a gift from some wealthy patron or not, the world of the rich was just too extravagant.
No matter how handsome this man was, he was far beyond Jing Nian’s means.
Jing Nian silently took a sip of orange juice to calm his nerves.
Just like online shopping platforms—why did he always come across things he couldn’t afford?
Why did he always run into models he couldn’t afford to hire?
For now, Jiang Jue hadn’t guessed what was going through his mind, sparing Jing Nian a future spanking on the backside.
“Calling you Mr. Jing all the time feels too distant,” Jiang Jue said thoughtfully. “May I call you A’Nian?”
Jing Nian blinked in surprise. “A’Nian?”
“Everyone usually calls me Nian Nian.”
The name A’Nian—in his memory, only Gu Yehan had ever called him that.
Because the only thing he’d carried in his swaddling clothes was a jade pendant engraved with the character “Nian.” Back then, he hadn’t yet found his family and had no surname, so he’d grown up being called A’Nian.
But it was just a name. Jing Nian didn’t mind how people addressed him and silently accepted the new nickname.
Just then, Xiao Tu, who had been curled up in his arms catching up on sleep, heard the voices. Rubbing his eyes, he poked out a furry little head, right into Jiang Jue’s line of sight.