In the northern regions, especially among the locals, there has long been a belief that yellow weasels—known as Huang Pi Zi—can mesmerize people and possess human bodies. There are even tales that these creatures worship the moon, and over time, they "become immortals." Some view them as one of the five household spirits, offering incense and prayers to protect the family, with special temples built in their honor.

However, down here in the south, yellow weasels are rare, and temples dedicated to them are even rarer. If that old woman really is a Huang Pi Zi transformed into human form, then this situation just became even more bizarre. Ghosts I’ve encountered before, but an animal turning into a human? That’s a new one for me. I didn’t know whether to believe it, but the more I thought about it, the more it intrigued me.

I told Su Qing that I wouldn’t be making a ghost tattoo for now. Tonight, when I had some free time, I would go with Xiao Zi Xing to the internet café to see if the old woman was truly as supernatural as she seemed. Once we figured that out, we could decide what kind of tattoo would be effective to deal with her.

Old Zhang left us his address, and after he was gone, I turned to Xiao Zi Xing and asked him what he thought of this situation.

Xiao Zi Xing nodded. “I’ve heard many stories about Huang Pi Zi causing trouble. While they are malicious spirits, they won’t harm you unless you provoke them. Something at that internet café is definitely connected to the yellow weasel. It’s best to get to the bottom of it. Also, a Huang Pi Zi temple can be quite dangerous. If you randomly start giving tattoos there, you might end up in trouble—just like with Hu Bingbing. She’s a perfect example.”

Xiao Zi Xing was right. People are unpredictable. Last time, I nearly ended up dead at the hands of Hu Bingbing.

Not long after Old Zhang left, Su Qing arrived with another girl. This girl, named Lin Mu, was about the same age as Su Qing—pretty, but with a voice that sounded somewhat hoarse and unpleasant.

Su Qing introduced Lin Mu as a music major from her school. Three months ago, Lin Mu had developed a serious throat problem, underwent surgery, but unfortunately, it left her with permanent damage to her vocal cords, causing her voice to turn raspy.

For a music student, this was akin to having her dreams shattered, and Lin Mu was on the brink of despair. She’d been so depressed that she had even contemplated suicide, but Su Qing, seeing my abilities with ghost tattoos, thought I might be able to help.

When Lin Mu saw me, her eyes filled with tears, looking at me as if I were her last hope, like someone who had been pushed into a corner, waiting for someone to rescue her.

I immediately pulled Su Qing aside and whispered, "You really think I’m some kind of dream savior? Helping people find their true path? If it’s a vocal problem, she should be seeing a doctor. What can a tattoo do for this?"

Su Qing gave me a pleading look and said, “Please, just think of something. She’s been through so much, and if we don’t try, she might really lose all hope. I don’t want to see her suffer like this anymore.”

I sighed. “I get it, but there’s no magic cure here. Ghost tattoos aren’t a cure-all. You think I don’t want to make money?”

Su Qing, though, wouldn’t give up. She insisted, "Maybe you can find a tattoo that’s related to her voice or singing? You never know—it might just work."

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Actually, there was a tattoo I knew about: it’s called the "Ghost Plays Opera" tattoo. In the old days, ghost stories often revolved around haunted opera troupes, because ghosts loved listening to performances. Some operas, particularly the ones with heavy ghostly themes, were known to attract spirits from all directions. In the past, many opera performers had low social status and often met untimely or violent deaths, and their restless spirits would often linger around the troupe. To prevent these ghosts from causing harm, the troupe’s leader would perform a special ritual on certain days—like the first and fifteenth of the month, or during the ghost festival—where they would "sing for the ghosts."

The tattoo itself, "Ghost Plays Opera," was done to prevent the restless spirits from interfering with performances. Once the ghost heard the opera, it would leave, ensuring peace for the rest of the troupe.

However, this tattoo had nothing to do with Lin Mu’s vocal issue. It couldn’t fix her voice, nor could it make her singing better.

But Su Qing didn’t think like that. She saw Lin Mu’s pain and insisted that we try anything. "We’ve got nothing to lose. Let’s try it, maybe it’ll have some unexpected effects."

I refused, however, saying, "No way. There’s a catch to the ‘Ghost Plays Opera’ tattoo. It works if you’re performing for ghosts, but if you try to use it for a human, it could be dangerous. The cost might not be money—it could be something far worse."

Su Qing’s temper flared. She gripped my ear with a surprising amount of strength and said, "Just try it! What’s the worst that could happen? If anything goes wrong, just remove the tattoo! Don’t be so fussy about it. You’re a man, act like one!"

I winced in pain, my ear nearly pulled off. In the end, I had no choice but to compromise. My grandfather was still waiting for me to save him, and I couldn’t afford to get into any more trouble. But I had one condition: Lin Mu had to agree to this of her own volition. Only then would I go ahead with it.

Su Qing finally let go of my ear and went over to talk to Lin Mu.

Surprisingly, Lin Mu agreed. Even though she knew there was a risk, she was willing to try anything.

Reluctantly, I agreed, setting the price at 100,000 yuan for the "Ghost Plays Opera" tattoo. Money up front, and the consequences were at her own risk. I couldn’t guarantee the results.

For a university student like Lin Mu, 100,000 was a huge amount, but I knew that students from music families often had some financial backing. I told her she could come back in three days with the money, and then I would do the tattoo. If she could raise it, I would be there, rain or shine.

Lin Mu nodded, said her goodbyes, and left to get the money.

After she left, I told Su Qing I would give her a 5% commission on the payment, which came out to 5,000 yuan. I was being fair.

But Su Qing refused. "I didn’t do this for the money. I’m trying to help her because I care about her. We’ve been through everything together—from high school to university. Lin Mu’s dream has always been to sing. I can’t watch her suffer like this."

I understood her good intentions, but the consequences of giving a tattoo like "Ghost Plays Opera" could be unpredictable. What if something went wrong? I just couldn’t foresee what would happen.

Just as I was lost in thought, Xiao Zi Xing suddenly burst out laughing.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked.

He grinned mischievously and said, "You two look like a married couple standing together! It’s like I’m witnessing a love story unfold right before my eyes."

Su Qing, furious, made a face of disgust. "Me and him? Hah, don’t even joke about it!" Then she added dramatically, "Even if I die and fall from this building, I still wouldn’t like him!"

"Jump? You’re on the first floor, what’s there to jump off of?" I retorted with a smirk, not missing a beat. "You’ve got quite the foul mouth for a ‘miss perfect.’ Don’t forget, no matter how bad I am, I’m a man you’ll never have."

"Who do you think you are?" Su Qing snapped. "You’re nothing special!" Then she suddenly shoved me down onto the table.

I wasn’t one to back down either, so I shot back, "What are you, a ‘ghost slayer’? If you don’t go exorcise spirits, you’re over here bullying me—an innocent, defenseless handsome guy. Shame on you!"

Xiao Zi Xing, sensing things were about to escalate, quickly intervened. "Hey, hey! Enough with the flirting! Let me tell you your fortune! I’ll find out if you two are really a match—give me your birthdates, and I’ll tell you if you’re meant to be together."