Chapter 0001: The Underdog Goes to Thailand
Ghosts. You believe in them, they exist; you don't, they don't. There are too many things in this world that science simply cannot explain or answer. I had always been an atheist, but a single, unplanned trip to Thailand completely changed my fate. Not only did I start believing in ghosts, but I even opened a shop selling them. You read that right—everyone else catches ghosts; I sell them.
The period when I started selling ghosts goes back a few years.
My name is Tien Chi. I'm from Shenyang, and I worked at a large mobile phone market there. I was a typical "four-no" guy: no money, no apartment, no decent career, and, naturally, no wife. Then, one day, a distant cousin of mine, who was living in Thailand, suddenly called. He asked me to bring some Northeast Chinese specialties to him in Thailand and offered to pay for my airfare. Who says no to an offer like that? I immediately agreed.
The night before I left for Thailand, I happened to attend a junior high school reunion. School reunions are usually about two things: extramarital affairs and showing off wealth. This one was no exception. As soon as dinner started, everyone gathered in small groups. Soon, the topics naturally drifted to work, current status, income, housing, and cars—all the sensitive stuff. The ones who were doing well spoke in louder tones, while those who were struggling hardly said a word. They just sat quietly, occasionally taking a sip of water to prove they had something to do.
I was definitely in the "struggling" category, so naturally, people looked down on me. Everyone else was chatting happily, but I, along with a few other unsuccessful guys, was just sitting there, completely ignored.
The conversation eventually shifted to travel, Southeast Asia, Thailand, and Thai Amulets. One classmate said, "I heard Thai Amulets are super powerful! They can bring wealth, boost your love life, and all that. Too bad I've never been to Thailand, or I'd get one for sure!"
The topic immediately took off. The best-off classmate was a guy named Qiao, whom everyone called Old Qiao. He was a deputy manager in the credit department of a Shenyang bank. He deliberately sneered at me, "Tien Chi, I bet you don't even know what a Thai Amulet is, do you?" Everyone burst into laughter.
Feeling irritated, I suddenly got a surge of boldness and retorted with a cold smile, "How could I not know? I go to Thailand all the time! I know plenty of high-ranking monks and Arjans from the Temples. In fact, I'm heading to Thailand tomorrow!"
My classmates laughed again; obviously, no one believed me. I opened my bag, pulled out my passport and Thai visa, and flashed it at them. The date was indeed the next day. This shut everyone up. No one expected a loser like me to pull something like that off.
Old Qiao looked skeptical. "Why have you never mentioned it?"
I smiled. "That's called being low-key. I learned it from people down south."
A pretty female classmate named Lü quickly chimed in, "Tien Chi, Tien Chi, could you bring one back for me? Just something for safety and protection. A Sacred Amulet—I wouldn't dare touch any of the Dark Amulets.
How would I know the price? I just told her, "You get what you pay for. I'll give you a quote once I hit Thailand." She was ecstatic, immediately handed me her cell number, and made me promise not to forget.
After landing in Thailand, I stayed at my cousin's place in Rayong City for a few days. Never having left the country, I was curious about everything. My cousin, in his forties, owned a silver processing factory there. He was loaded, living in a three-story house he'd built himself inside the factory compound. His wife was Thai, but they had no kids. My cousin had been in Thailand for over ten years and barely had any family left back home, so I was one of the few. He strongly urged me to stay, partly to help him run the business, and partly to have a relative nearby to keep him company.
Thailand was stunning, and everything was cheap—especially the fruits and seafood, they were the bomb. I genuinely considered staying. But my parents were pushing me to go on blind dates, so I had to head back. I promised my cousin I'd come visit again soon.
Two nights before my return flight, my cousin and his wife went out for a social event, leaving me alone. While I was packing, I noticed a Thai newspaper next to the bed with a photo of a Thai celebrity wearing a Buddhist amulet on it. That finally reminded me of the task my classmate had given me. I quickly called my cousin and asked if he knew anyone in the amulet trade in Thailand. My cousin replied, "Temples are everywhere in Thailand, and they all sell amulets."
"Could you take me to a nearby temple tomorrow?" I asked. "I need to pick up a cheap amulet just to get this off my plate." My cousin agreed. Then, he suddenly seemed to recall something and told me to go up to his study on the third floor and look for a business card holder. Inside, there was a card for a guy named Frank Fang—an amulet expert. He told me to give him a call. My cousin said, "Frank Fang is Chinese. He specializes in connecting people with things like amulets and Guman Thong here in Thailand."
I asked, "If the temples here sell them, why do I need to contact him?"
"It's not the same," my cousin explained. "The temples only carry Positive-energy Amulets that the monks have consecrated. But this Frank Fang can source both Positive-energy and Negative-energy Amulets. He's a real fixer. Just be careful dealing with him. The guy is a total money grubber, only respects cash, not people. He could wring a couple ounces of grease out of a corpse."
I hung up and went up to the third floor. I rummaged around for ages before finally finding the card. It read: "China-Thai Amulet and Guman Expert - Frank Fang," along with the Thai translation and a phone number.
Holding the card, I stepped out of the room, about to head downstairs, when a few strange sounds echoed from the room at the end of the hall. Hold up. The only people in this entire house are my cousin, his wife, and me. Since they're out, who the hell is in that room? I never heard about my cousin owning any pets. I walked over to the door and peeked through the crack. By the moonlight, I could see the room was bare, with nothing but a wooden cabinet. A small child was standing alone in the center of the room, facing away from me. Judging by the size, he couldn't have been more than three or four.
I was baffled. Whose kid was this, and what was he doing in my cousin's house? I'd never heard my cousin mention having family in Thailand, and even if he did, shouldn't the kid come out for meals? I'd never seen him before.
Just as I was trying to figure it out, the kid slowly turned around, as if he'd sensed me standing outside. But the light was too poor; I couldn't make out his face at all.
The child held out his arms, like he wanted me to pick him up. I thought, My cousin is seriously messed up. If they have a child, why lock him up in the dark like this? I reached out and pushed the door. It wasn't locked and swung right open. I fumbled for the light switch on the wall, but the scene that met my eyes scared the living hell out of me!
The child's face had absolutely no features except for the eye sockets. And those sockets were two raw, bloody holes, with two streams of fresh blood slowly running down from them.
I was paralyzed with fear. The child took a step toward me. I screamed and bolted out of the room, even taking a spectacular tumble in the hallway. I scrambled to my feet and looked back, terrified the child was following, but there was nothing. The room was silent. I was about to run when the thought flashed through my mind: Could I have imagined it?
I stood there for a bit. Still no movement. I gathered my nerve and, shaking like a leaf, turned back and slowly peered into the room. It was completely empty, with only that wooden cabinet and a red cloth bundle resting on top of it. I got my breath under control, confirmed no one was inside from the doorway, and finally walked in, going over to the cabinet.
I reached out and opened the red cloth bundle. Inside was a dark, shriveled object—it was a mummified baby corpse, no longer than two palms. The corpse's eyes were deeply sunken and bloody inside, and a few circles of white string were tied around its waist.
Just as my mind was reeling, I heard a car engine outside the corridor window. Quickly, I wrapped the thing back up, put it exactly where I found it, left the room, and switched off the light. Through the glass, I saw my cousin's car pulling in. I shut the door and bolted back to my own bedroom, acting like nothing had happened.
My cousin brought in a feast of fruit and seafood for me, but I was in no mood to eat. I couldn't stop thinking about that dried corpse. My cousin asked if I'd managed to find Frank Fang's number. That finally brought me back to the present. I used my cousin's phone to call the number on the card. It was loud on the other end, and this guy, Frank Fang, had a thick Cantonese accent. I had to shout several times before he finally understood what I wanted. He told me to go meet him at a specific butcher shop in Pattaya City.
The next afternoon, I took the bus from Rayong to Pattaya and found the butcher shop using the address Frank Fang had provided. The place was dead—no business whatsoever. Two huge guys with tattoos were sitting behind the chopping block, giving me the death stare. I nervously asked if Frank Fang was there. The tough guy sized me up: "What do you want with him?"