Chapter Forty-Eight: The Little Pest at the Mortar

“Twenty pounds in three days? Are you kidding me.”
My Yin-Yang tattoos may be miraculous, but they aren’t magic tricks—there’s no way they can have such a domineering effect.
“You said it yourself, didn’t you? If there’s a Yang tattoo, there’s a Yin tattoo. What, you don’t want to make money?” Xiao Qi pressed on, while I on the other end of the line was silently lamenting.
The price of the Yin tattoo is simply too steep; there have been times when it even led to fatalities. From previous experience, it’s not that the tattoo itself is cursed, but those who get it simply cannot control their desires, leading to disaster.
“There’s really no such thing as a Yin tattoo; that was just us talking nonsense.”
“I’ve got the contract in my hand, you know. It clearly states that if I’m dissatisfied with the tattoo’s effect, I can demand compensation several times over! If you refuse, expect my lawyer at your door!” With that, Xiao Qi hung up.
Damn it! I kicked over the trash can; in the end, she still managed to trap me.
“What’s going on?” Lao Liao, ignorant of the situation, shot up from the sofa, startled.
“That female streamer tricked me! The contract we signed last time is problematic!” I said bitterly.
“She wants a Yin tattoo?”
“Yeah.”
“Afraid something will happen?”
“Of course!”
“All living beings are bound by cause and effect, all actions bring retribution. You, my friend, are too sentimental—too ‘saintly,’ as the internet would put it.”
“?”
“You have a flaw in your character, too indecisive. Remember, it’s impossible to get along perfectly with everyone around you, and you have no obligation to pay for another’s choices. We’re businessmen here, and your Yin-Yang tattoos aren’t some sinister black magic; at most, they’re a pact with spirits.
I’ve figured it out over time: the Yin tattoo is simply an agreement with a vengeful ghost—they help you achieve your desired effect, you do what they ask in return. Of course, exceptions exist, like Brother Xiao Lin, who can suppress ghost tattoos.
In other words, you grant your clients a power, but if they break the balance themselves, it’s their own fault. You need to free yourself from this guilt—because you’re not a savior.”
Lao Liao spoke at length, essentially advising me not to agonize over it. He was right; only a fool would refuse money. Xiao Qi must bear the consequences of her own actions.
“Come to my shop tomorrow morning, I’ll tattoo you.” I messaged Xiao Qi.
“So you’ve come around, huh? That’s right! If it works, I’ll throw in a few more thousand as a bonus. Mwah!” Her voice message was suddenly cute and playful, nothing like her earlier aggressive tone.

I sighed helplessly. Ever since taking over the Yin-Yang tattoo business, I’ve often felt powerless, as if everything were beyond my control.
Now, with only Xiao Qi and Xia Liang’s matters on my plate, worrying wouldn’t help, so Lao Liao and I settled on the couch to watch TV.
As night fell, Xiao Qi began her livestream again. Driven by curiosity, I wondered how she would explain things to her fans, so I cast the stream onto the TV.
“Tonight we’re eating roast whole lamb! If I don’t eat my fill, how can I start dieting tomorrow?”
“Hey, Boss XX, you promised me a hundred rockets—don’t try to renege!”
The roast lamb on screen looked delicious, but Xiao Qi’s sultry voice and absurdly confident tone killed my appetite and even made me a bit nauseous. These streamers living in the virtual world are obsessed with money and profit.
Fine, you want a Yin tattoo? You want to threaten me with a contract? Then you’ll bear all the consequences yourself!
Fuming, I turned off the TV and went to bed.
Behind me, Lao Liao murmured, “Misfortune and fortune have no gates; people summon them themselves. Good and evil follow as closely as a shadow. Ah, young people…”
The next morning, I rose early, washed up, and carefully studied the diagrams for the Yin tattoos.
In the past, I always excluded the Yin tattoo from my services, worried about its unpredictable consequences. But today, I was determined to sever those sentimental attachments for good.
“Hey, Uncle Jin, I need some supplies—something for weight loss.” I called Old Jin, intending to prepare the dyes.
“Ah, I’ve actually got a perfect one—a ghost who died from overeating. I’ll have Ah Mao deliver it to you later. It’s pricey, twenty thousand.”
“No problem, the material cost will be paid by the client. I’m not about to pamper anyone.”
“Good, good! I think you’re a natural for this trade. You’ve got the style of a real master now—doesn’t matter what your background is, everyone bows low when they come to me! That’s the spirit!” Old Jin applauded over the phone.
A ghost who died from overeating? That’s rare. In today’s world, starvation is nearly impossible—everyone is better off and more health-conscious. Who eats themselves to death anymore?
Still, it’s a perfect match. A ghost stuffed to death would have no interest in food, so it fits Xiao Qi’s needs.
But what sort of design should I give her?
Images of Xiao Qi’s greedy, exaggerated eating flashed through my mind, along with her sly, threatening tone over the phone. My gaze settled on one particular page in the tattoo handbook.
I grabbed a sheet of sketch paper and began to copy the design with my brush. Soon, a monstrous figure, about the length of an arm, appeared on the page.
“This little demon looks pretty wicked,” Lao Liao glanced over.

“This is the Pestle Demon…” I was about to explain when Xiao Qi’s voice rang from outside, “Boss Zhang—have you decided on my tattoo design yet?”
Her sudden coyness made my skin crawl, but I swallowed my disgust and replied, “Here, this is the Pestle Demon, also known as the Little Glutton.”
“What, you want me to tattoo a demon on myself? If it doesn’t work and looks ugly, don’t blame me for suing you out of business!” Xiao Qi was clearly displeased, speaking rudely again. I was furious but powerless—after all, she had me cornered.
“Don’t worry; it’s more a beast than a demon. It’s said to be a gluttonous creature found in ancient, remote mountains.”
Actually, only I knew the truth: this beast isn’t from the mountains, but from the twelfth level of hell—the Pestle Hell.
Hell is divided into eighteen layers, each with its own purpose. Legend says those who waste food descend to this hell, where they’re crushed into pulp by enormous pestles. The Pestle Demon is one of the creatures here, who devour the shattered flesh of the damned, bite by bite.
On the sketch paper, the demon’s head is oversized, limbs tiny, with mystical runes carved on its forehead, giving it a sinister air.
Its eyes are hollow, devoid of pupils, and its mouth gapes wide—so wide it takes up two-thirds of its face, as if it could devour everything before it.
“With this tattoo, you’re guaranteed to slim down like lightning—every bite you eat will go straight into the demon’s belly.”
Xiao Qi nodded skeptically, “Alright, let’s do it today. If you don’t, my contract stands.”
Suppressing my anger, I began sterilizing the tattoo needles.
Soon, Ah Mao arrived, handing me the ghost jar. “Twenty thousand—scan to pay.”
I motioned to Xiao Qi, “You need to cover the material cost, or I can’t do business.”
My face was grim as I looked at her. Perhaps she felt her actions were excessive, so she obediently paid.
Once Ah Mao left, I took a few drops of Xiao Qi’s blood and dripped them into the jar.
A piercing scream echoed through the tattoo shop. Lao Liao hurried to shut the door—if the neighbors heard, they’d think a murder was happening. The cries didn’t stop, shrill and bone-chilling. I stared at the dark mass in the jar, catching glimpses of a bloated face, bleeding from every orifice and wailing endlessly.
Thankfully, after five minutes, the screams faded.
Xiao Qi sat on the tattoo bed, her face filled with terror. I actually felt a bit relieved; at least she was afraid, which meant she wasn’t beyond saving, not yet completely consumed by greed.
But then Xiao Qi spoke, “Even if it’s a demon, as long as I can lose twenty pounds, I’ll risk it!”
Lao Liao shook his head beside me. I knew then—this woman was beyond hope.