You’re Blocking My Coffin Board

Of course, Liang Liang naturally cared about those burial items because spirits like them, ghosts who remained in the boundary between the living and the dead without entering the cycle of reincarnation, had to pay a price.

A starving ghost had to keep eating endlessly to be satisfied. After his parents passed away and no one offered him offerings anymore, he could only rely on paper money exchanged in the underworld for some food. Although he had a wealthy family and had eaten quite well over the past few hundred years, now he could only mooch off the cemetery for food and drink.

“Why don’t you enter the cycle of reincarnation?” Jiang Jiang had been staring at him almost the entire time as if he enjoyed watching him eat. Liang Liang had heard about a profession called “food broadcasting” outside, and now he was probably food broadcasting for Jiang Jiang.

“I’m waiting for someone,” Liang Liang said vaguely.

“Who are you waiting for?”

“I don’t remember anymore. After a few hundred years, I don’t remember what they looked like,” Liang Liang gnawed on the chicken leg that his master had cooked for him. He gnawed halfway and met Jiang Jiang’s restless gaze.

“You… do you want to eat too?”

“You can eat,” Jiang Jiang smiled faintly. Yeah, after a few hundred years, he probably had some symptoms of senility. “It’s fine.”

(12)

About how Liang Liang died.

He only remembers falling in love with a performer. That performer stood on the stage, singing ‘Farewell My Concubine,’ saying, ‘Heroes rise and fall in an instant, the fate of success or failure. What about Yuji, Yuji, what will she do?’ The person on the stage was not just a performer, but clearly his beloved.

“You like Concubine Yu?”

“You can’t even tell something so obvious,” under the moonlight, Liang Liang rolled his eyes, “Of course, I like the King.”

“The one with a painted face, the King with a long beard?”

“Yes.”

Jiang Jiang touched his own face and smiled. “And then?”

“After that, I don’t remember. I only know that I had to go out and meet him. It might have been an elopement or some kind of arrangement, but my elders at home wouldn’t allow me to step out of the house.” Liang Liang leaned against Jiang Jiang, happily patting his stomach. “Hmm, so I went on a hunger strike as a protest.”

“And starved to death.”

“I accidentally starved to death,” Liang Liang clicked his tongue. “Originally, I just wanted to scare them.”

“…”

“After I died, I’ve been waiting for that person to come and visit my grave. I want to see him again.”

“What happened afterward?”

“Afterwards… he never came. I waited and waited, and it’s been hundreds of years. Later, I thought he probably died a long time ago, but for some reason, I got used to waiting.”

Jiang Jiang wanted to say something, his calm gaze showing a rare hint of uneasiness. In the end, he allowed Liang Liang to lean against him, their souls gradually blending, as they watched the moon on the western horizon.

Liang Liang felt very comfortable leaning against him. He somewhat enjoyed the feeling of blending with Jiang Jiang. This new roommate was not bad at all—considerate and gentle. Perhaps he could consider keeping Jiang Jiang around so he wouldn’t be too lonely.

“Here,” Jiang Jiang took out a thick stack of paper money from his pocket and passed it through his body to the back, giving it to Liang Liang.

Liang Liang lowered his head. “What, the rent? Actually, you don’t have to be so polite, I…”

“No,” Jiang Jiang interrupted, turned his head to glance at him, and calmly replied, “It’s the betrothal gift.”