Volume One, Chapter Ninety-Three: Not Only Catching Ghosts, but Also Unraveling Doubts, Reading Fortunes, and Guiding the Lost

Qin Yu raised her hand and formed a seal. The man immediately felt a gentle breeze brush against his face, softly smoothing the furrow in his brow and, in passing, washing away the turmoil and pain in his heart. His mind grew calm, and he looked at Qin Yu in astonishment. “Master, I don’t seem to feel as much pain as before!”

In front of him, Qin Yu pressed her fingers together, her delicate, curled lashes casting a deep shadow beneath her eyes. “Lower your head and look—tell me, what do you see?” Qin Yu guided him, her voice gentle.

Puzzled, the man lifted his hands from his knees and replied uncertainly, “A pair of hands?”

“Then let me ask you: if you had to give up one of your fingers, which would you choose?”

The man did not understand her meaning. Nervously, he cradled his right hand in his left. “Is it possible not to give up any?”

Instead of answering, Qin Yu asked, “Why?”

“If a normal person lost a finger, wouldn’t that make them disabled?”

“Very good!” Qin Yu nodded. “Though our ten fingers are all different in length, you would never abandon any just because one is shorter. So why, when it comes to yourself, can’t you see through this matter?”

Sudden enlightenment dawned on the man’s face. Excitedly, he exclaimed, “Master! I understand now!”

“What is it that you understand?”

“Am I too slow? I didn’t get it. I’m about to cry.”

Qin Yu looked at him with the expression of a teacher pleased with her student. “You’re already excellent. Any work you complete receives over a ninety-eight percent positive rating from clients. When your colleagues talk about you behind your back, it’s only because they envy your talent. Don’t punish yourself for their mistakes. And as for your parents, it’s not that they belittle your achievements…”

Here, Qin Yu sighed, a trace of helplessness in her voice. “Actually, you can’t blame them. This is the kind of restraint and subtlety that’s ingrained in us as Chinese people. Even when you can’t see it, your parents have always been proud of you.”

“That brings back memories of my childhood. I got a perfect score in math and went home overjoyed, but my father only looked at me expressionless and said, ‘Remain humble and keep working hard.’ I was so disappointed. Only after becoming a parent myself did I begin to understand how he must have felt. Last year during Qingming, I was sorting through his belongings and found that very perfect test paper at the bottom of a box. Only then did I realize I had always been the pride of his heart.”

“I’ve noticed that older generations really don’t like to praise their children. Their love is always so restrained and heavy.”

“As a child, I couldn’t understand the essay ‘Back View’ by Zhu Ziqing. Now I get it, but my parents are no longer here.”

“Why wasn’t my family like that? My parents always praised and encouraged me!”

“Times have changed, right? Parents now are more direct; it’s not like the previous generation’s silent endurance.”

“But actually, that kind of heavy love isn’t good, is it? It can leave children feeling insecure and lacking confidence.”

“You’re absolutely right. I’ve already taken a screenshot and sent it to my parents!”

The flurry of comments on the screen resonated deeply with the man, who nodded emphatically. “My parents are so outstanding that they often make me feel stifled and sad.”

“Parents are not at fault, nor are children. The real problem is the lack of effective communication between both sides.” Qin Yu listened quietly, offering guidance when appropriate. Glancing at the man’s ID, she continued, “FW, your forehead is high, your hairline is even, and the area representing your parents is full. Your facial features indicate a good relationship with your parents.”

The man paused, surprised. “But I can hardly have a conversation with them without it turning awkward.”

“If you show your parents just half the patience you have when negotiating business, the result will be different.”

“Now that I think about it, I seem to take out all my negative emotions on my parents.”

“I suddenly feel terrible. I’m going to apologize to my parents right now.”

“I just sent a ‘sorry’ to my mom, and immediately got a red exclamation mark!”

“Auntie’s anti-scam awareness is really strong—thumbs up!”

The man was thoughtful but still hesitant. “Master, do you really think I can?”

“How will you know if you don’t try?” Qin Yu gave him a gentle smile.

Encouraged, the man broke into a smile. “I’ll go talk to my parents right now.”

“Why does it suddenly feel like his whole aura has changed?”

“At first he seemed so gloomy, but now he looks spirited as he leaves.”

“A person’s appearance is not unchanging—it subtly shifts with their energy and spirit,” Qin Yu said. She felt as if something was missing, reached out, but grasped only air. Lifting her eyelids, she went on, “If someone’s energy is weak, their luck will be affected accordingly. On the other hand, if their energy is strong, even if their luck is poor, things won’t go too badly.”

“I get it now—luck is like life, and our energy and spirit are our attitude toward life. What truly matters is our attitude!”

“Upstairs, I’ll make you the class representative for literature.”

“No, no, it’s just that the master explained it so well, it inspired me.”

Qin Yu glanced aside, suddenly a little guilty. She’d only been talking about luck and energy—how did the viewers manage to read so much into it?

“Today’s stream is so boring! Not a single ghost sighting for ages, and now just endless chicken soup for the soul! I’m dying of boredom!”

“If you don’t like it, don’t watch! No one’s making you!”

“I found today especially meaningful!”

Qin Yu spoke up, “My stream is for resolving doubts and fortune-telling, not just ghost-hunting. If you’re only here for ghosts, please look elsewhere!”

Most of the time, there really aren’t that many ghosts in the world—it’s people’s hearts that become troubled, summoning the ghosts within.

Her voice was sweet and soft, yet her words made listeners submit instinctively. It seemed she, Dianqiu, possessed this inexplicable power.

Qin Yu was about to send out a third lucky envelope when a user named Fu Ziwen kept tagging her in the chat.

“@Dianqiu, Master, invite me to join the call—I have something important to tell you.”

“@Dianqiu, Master, I’m serious! Chinese people don’t lie to Chinese people!”

“…”

The person kept pleading to be let on.

Qin Yu sent an invitation.

“Go on, what’s so important?”

On screen appeared a young man with hair dyed in every color, a cigarette dangling from his lips—a delinquent in appearance.

“Master, there’s been a murder in our village today!”