When I noticed Chen Yuanshan approaching, I hesitated for a moment before striding outside to meet him.

My father, rising from the kang, followed suit, curious about the visitor adorned in Daoist attire.

"What's going on? Weren't you supposed to call me?" Chen Yuanshan questioned, his tone lacking warmth as he addressed me.

"Apologies, Master Chen. I forgot to give you a call after getting a new phone and number," I admitted.

"You young folks these days, so unreliable," Chen Yuanshan muttered, scolding me.

"Sorry," I replied sheepishly.

"Who's this?" My father emerged from the house, overhearing our conversation. He gestured towards Chen Yuanshan, seeking an explanation.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm a Taoist from Maoshan, Chen Yuanshan. I run a Daoist hall called 'Dao Zun Tang' in Fuyuan Alley," Chen Yuanshan introduced himself before I could say anything.

"What brings you to my house?" my father inquired.

"Your son invited me. You should ask him about it," Chen Yuanshan replied, indicating it was my matter to explain.

My father, puzzled, turned to me, and I briefly explained, "Dad, it's like this. The upright female corpse we fished out of the river yesterday has turned into a female water ghost, and I invited Master Chen to help me expel the evil spirit."

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

"Ridiculous! In all the years I've worked as a corpse retriever with your grandfather, I've never seen a water ghost. You're too young. This guy is obviously a swindler. A fake Taoist trying to trick you into giving him money," my father scolded me, pointing at Chen Yuanshan. "You two even speak the same way."

Unfazed by my father's accusations, Chen Yuanshan didn't get angry or offer elaborate explanations. Instead, he muttered quietly to himself.

"Dad, when Grandpa was alive, he told me stories about water ghosts. Just because you haven't seen one doesn't mean they don't exist," I tried to reason with him.

"Your grandfather had old-fashioned ideas. I still don't believe in ghosts and spirits. It's all nonsense," my father stubbornly stated.

"Dad, I don't want to argue with you about this. There's another matter I want to make clear today. My future life, I will plan it myself. I won't let you decide my life. From today onwards, I won't work as a corpse retriever. I don't like this profession, and I don't want people pointing fingers at me, accusing me of 'earning money from the dead, immoral, and having no anus for childbirth.'"

You know, ever since Great-Grandpa started working as a corpse retriever, our old He family hasn't had a good ending. Great-Grandpa was killed while trying to extort money using a corpse. Grandma, who was perfectly healthy, mysteriously died in her sleep. Grandpa got cancer and passed away. With you, Mom left when I was seven.

These years, you've selfishly lived for yourself. You never thought about me. Every time we earned money from retrieving corpses, you either indulged in feasts and drinks or spent it on massages and women. Or, you simply gambled it all away.

You always told me you were saving money to buy a house and find me a wife. Where's the money now?

This moment marked my explosive outburst. My father, listening to my heartfelt words, wore an indifferent expression.