Black Wuchang, Fan Wujiu

The little spirit’s small leather shoes tapped on the table, his face filled with countless worries, as he vented his frustrations.

“For nearly a century, this music box has changed hands many times, but because it has absorbed my resentment, it brings misfortune to its owners.”

“Almost every owner who collected this antique music box either went bankrupt or suffered disabilities.”

“In the past twenty or thirty years, almost every owner would die a violent or tragic death.”

The little spirit stared straight at Zhong Jianian, pointing at him, “That fat guy who gave you the music box, he knew there was something wrong with it. You really can’t judge people well, so it’s your own fault for being deceived.”

Wanwan slapped the table with her small hand, angrily saying, “How can you speak like that?”

“Brother Nian is a good person.”

“Good people are harmed by bad people. How can it be their fault? Clearly, it’s the fault of the bad people.”