Chapter 3: Ghost-Welded Doors |
Wu Zhong stood frozen, his head buzzing.
He had experienced a "door won't open" situation not long ago.
If the elevator incident was a coincidence, what about this one?
This Buick's doors had been fine—Wu Zhong himself had test-driven it for a couple of laps; opening and closing the doors had been perfectly smooth.
So why did the problem show up the moment the owner arrived?
Connecting it with the elevator incident, Wu Zhong's first reaction was: I must have run into a ghost!
"Old Wang, what's going on!" The boss demanded, glaring at Old Wang first.
Old Wang hurriedly replied, "I don't know! I only changed the filter. Xiao Wu was the one who test-drove it—he said it was fine."
"Xiao Wu!" The boss stared coldly.
The man in the suit took out his phone and filmed, speaking in a low voice, "What's happening now? You aren't deliberately messing with my door and making me pay to replace a set, are you?"
The boss panicked: "No, no, of course not!"
The suited man checked the time. "I'm in a hurry to use this car!"
The boss glared at Wu Zhong to hurry up and fix it while trying to calm the owner down and get him to sit inside to wait.
As soon as Wu Zhong touched it—pull— the car door opened smoothly.
Old Wang was stunned. "Huh? It's fine now?"
Wu Zhong didn't relax; if anything, he grew tenser.
He had seen the owner struggle to open it for a long time, yet as soon as he touched it, it opened.
This mirrored the elevator incident exactly—there really was something supernatural going on. Damn it, truly haunted.
"Brother Wang, maybe the owner is trying to pick a fight? We don't know. Look, what's wrong with the door? Isn't it fine?" Wu Zhong said calmly, opening and closing the door repeatedly, jostling it; it worked perfectly.
He watched his own face in the rearview and then checked the back of his neck to see if anything was perched there...
This creepy phenomenon sent chills down his spine.
Old Wang sneered, "Damn, that guy's a weirdo. The moment he pulled his phone out to film, I knew he came prepared."
Wu Zhong asked, "What do we do now?"
"Tell the truth and let the boss send him off," Old Wang waved it off.
Wu Zhong nodded. "Okay. Wang, you take it for a spin and show him... I'll go talk to the boss..."
He briskly walked toward the boss, who was still soothing the owner.
Old Wang climbed into the car and casually tried to close the door.
But he pulled and pulled and couldn't budge it.
"Huh?"
Old Wang froze.
He got out to check, shoved at the door with force, even leaned his whole body into it—his shoe soles scraping like sparks—but still couldn't close it.
Not only could he not shut it, he couldn't even move it a little; it was as if it had been welded shut.
"Huh?" Old Wang stared dumbfounded at the sliding area of the door... staring hard without understanding the problem.
By then Wu Zhong had explained things to the boss and the three of them walked over together.
The suited man said coldly, "So it can open now? If there's a problem later, I'll hold you accountable."
The boss patted his chest. "If there's any problem, come see me—I’ll take care of it free of charge."
But Old Wang poked his head out, looking bewildered at the owner: "Boss, this... this car..."
"What's wrong?" The boss noticed his expression and stepped over; the two of them whispered.
The suited man grew impatient, plopped into the driver's seat, started the engine, and tried to close the door.
Of course, not only did the door refuse to close, the accelerator wouldn't budge either.
"Huh? The accelerator's broken too?" He was furious.
The most shocked person there was Wu Zhong.
"What the hell— the accelerator's not working either?"
"What kind of freakish shit is this? Ghost grandpa, don't mess with me."
Wu Zhong was panicked, his mind racing; he had no explanation except something supernatural.
This crappy car could be opened and closed normally only by him; no one else could open it, and others couldn't close it.
Including the accelerator!
Too strange, too wicked—surely some little ghost was clinging to him and playing tricks. No wonder today had been so unlucky!
Wu Zhong wasn't very superstitious, but right now he couldn't deny what he was seeing.
If it wasn't a little ghost, could he have some supernatural power?
What kind of weird power is that? A door he closes others can't open? A door he opens others can't close?
What a stupid power! If it were a superpower, how would you undo it?
He silently begged for the effect to stop.
"Xiao Wu! Xiao Wu? I'm talking to you! Daydreaming? Did you do this on purpose?" The boss glared at him sternly.
Wu Zhong snapped back to reality. "I didn't do it, but there must be something supernatural, boss..."
Old Wang added, "Feels like a ghost's holding onto the door."
"Don't talk nonsense—there's no such thing as ghosts!" The boss was angry.
Wu Zhong patiently explained, "Boss, you know cars. Can't you see this door is weird?"
The owner angrily got out. "I don't care about your ghost stories. The door is crooked!"
"What? You want me to drive with a crooked door?"
"I can't drive away—the accelerator's locked. Are you messing with me?"
He whipped out his phone to expose them. The boss hurriedly placated him, shifting the blame to Wu Zhong and Old Wang and asking for a little more time.
Old Wang, seeing he couldn't dodge responsibility, loudly protested and the situation descended into chaos.
The boss was frantic. He actually believed the car was haunted, but he couldn't say that out loud.
How could he tell the owner: your car's possessed? Ghost-welded doors? Ghost-welded accelerator?
With people recording in broad daylight, the owner would blow up. Gan Province would trend nationwide; they'd coin a new phrase—'Gan Ghost-Weld Car'.
That would ruin his business. Right now the boss wanted to minimize the problem and keep speaking soothingly.
"We're a legitimate repair shop. I'll personally handle this, okay?"
But the owner wouldn't relent. "Legitimate my ass! The accelerator's locked—you're keeping me from leaving on purpose? Are you crazy?"
"I knew bringing my car into Gan Province wouldn't be good. Nothing but shady tricks and scams. No wonder Gan Province folks are poor for life."
The shop fell silent.
The boss straightened, and Old Wang's lips twitched like he wanted to curse.
Wu Zhong stepped forward and looked at the boss.
The boss suddenly swung his arm back, rolling up his sleeve—revealing a corner of a tattoo on his arm.
Wu Zhong and Old Wang exchanged a glance, both aware the boss used to be a street tough with dozens of brothers and who never backed down from a fight. Years ago he'd even trafficked sand and lived large.
After crackdowns, the boss used his savings to open the shop and go legitimate.
He still liked to boast about his glory days in the shop, and when drunk he could be aggressive—showing off muscles that were solid blocks. One arm could hoist Old Wang up.
He once boasted he could still take on ten men; anyone who caused trouble in his shop would get beaten.
Wu Zhong thought the owner had picked the wrong person to mess with.
Sensing the tension, the owner took two steps back.
"Boss, you're not going to pull a wrench on him, right? Don't start anything..."
Wu Zhong worried trouble might start and planned to hold the boss back. His eyes followed the boss's hand.
The boss reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes—something he usually couldn't bear to smoke—and with a fawning face offered one to the owner.
"Just a misunderstanding, brother."
Wu Zhong and Old Wang were stunned into silence.
The boss, taller by half a head, bent low.
"Our shop's totally legit. We'll fix this for you and won't charge extra... Come on, have a cigarette and calm down."
He tried to soothe the owner with a smoke.
The owner calmed, pointing his phone at him. "Say it on camera—did you tamper with my car?"
"No, no, of course not! I run my shop with a conscience. We would never pull tricks like that," the boss hurriedly insisted.
The owner said, "So are you saying I broke it? Do you think I'm framing you?"
The boss forced a smile. "No, no. It's an accident. We made a mistake, but we'll fix it, guaranteed."
After pleading and admitting fault on camera, the owner was finally placated and sat down to drink tea off to the side.
Wu Zhong and Old Wang were both dissatisfied, but since the boss had said it, they couldn't do much.
The boss went out, face grim, and inspected the car alone for a while—he was baffled too.
The driver's door appeared welded shut; the accelerator was welded—what kind of problem was this?
"Should we take it apart and look?"
The boss looked at Wu Zhong and Old Wang. "You two repaired this car. Be honest and tell me what you did. Did you tamper with anything?"
"I know you two sometimes pull tricks behind my back, but don't mess me over like this."
"If a mechanic causes damage through intentional or gross negligence, the repair shop pays, and then the shop can seek compensation from the mechanic responsible."
The boss's words left Old Wang stunned.
"What the hell? On what grounds? It's none of my business. I only changed a filter. Xiao Wu drove it out and came back like this—who knows where he went?" Old Wang hurriedly said.
Wu Zhong frowned and glared at him. "What? I opened and closed the door; you said there was no problem."
"Now you claim you don't know where I went?"
"Master Wang, you're a senior mechanic—you don't think this is something a normal person could do. I think it's a ghost!"
"Stop lying, or the ghost will knock on your door at night."
Old Wang wanted to deflect the blame, but even he felt the car was weird—this didn't look like something a person could do.
Damn it, it made no sense.
The more he thought, the more he feared it might be a supernatural event.
Gan Province TV wasn't famous for much except constantly airing ghost stories and weird tales—programs like Classic Legends and Odd Tales, nonstop creepiness.
Plus the region's Taoist headquarters were in Gan Province, with countless temples and regular rituals—local superstition and a sense of the supernatural ran strong.
You encountered Taoist priests everywhere. The folk-religion atmosphere around Gan Province was thick.
Especially in the auto repair industry: drivers from all over traded gossip, and superstitions about cars were common—people hung talismans to ward off evil.
Wu Zhong pressed on: "It was fine when I drove it. As soon as the owner arrived the problem started, then it went away, then came back when you touched it..."
"I don't know what the owner brought. But if there's something dirty involved, guess who it's attached to right now?"
When the boss heard that, he stumbled back three steps, staring at Old Wang in horror.
Old Wang turned to Wu Zhong, unnerved and uneasy. "Boss, this car's way too weird. Maybe your shop picked up something dirty."
"I suggest you get a Taoist to check it out—maybe that will fix it."
The boss fell silent.
He'd never experienced anything this strange. He'd heard of ghostly phenomena—ghost hitting walls, sleep paralysis, ghosts pulling brakes—but 'ghost-welded cars' was a first.
The three of them looked at each other; the owner grew impatient.
"Aren't you mechanics? You can't even fix a door? Hurry up!" He scoffed at talk of ghosts.
The boss said sternly to Wu Zhong and Old Wang, "This is screwed. My shop's never had trouble like this before—this is on you two."
"Like I said: you two repaired this car, and now it's broken. You fix it."
Wu Zhong took a deep breath. "I'll try to fix it. Old Wang, you might have picked up something nasty—don't you have a Guan Gong statue in the shop? You haven't paid respects in a while. Go make an offering."
Old Wang, half-crazed, immediately went to the Guan Gong statue to burn incense, a last-minute attempt at divine help.
Wu Zhong placed his hand on the door and pretended to inspect it for a while, then sat inside.
"Whatever this is—ghost or superpower—please end it," he silently begged.
He shut the door with one hand.
The owner, sipping tea, raised an eyebrow. "Hey? It's fixed?"
Wu Zhong revved the engine inside, mentally pleading to control the weird effect.
Finally he opened the door and stepped out. "Try it..."
The owner moved up. Wu Zhong stood to the side, his tension lodged in his throat.
The car started, the door closed smoothly, and the accelerator worked when the owner sat in and tried it.
Wu Zhong exhaled in relief and stared at his hands, deep in thought.
Old Wang finished burning incense and came over. "Holy crap—there really was something dirty? Burning incense fixed it?"
"That's Guan Er-ye for you," Old Wang declared, convinced they had indeed encountered a ghost.
Wu Zhong, however, realized it might not have been a small ghost at all—maybe he had unwittingly acquired some sort of superpower.
The boss was delighted and leaned over the car with a grin. "See? See? It was just a misunderstanding, just a small problem."
But everything happened so quickly that the owner yelled again, "So you did tamper with it!"
"Heh, you have no shame. A bunch of scoundrels denying it. You just didn't want to mess with me and were too cowardly to rip me off."
"If this had been someone else who was easier to deal with, you’d have squeezed money out of them. People from poor areas breed rotten locals."
The boss's face stiffened.
Wu Zhong, furious, stepped up and raised his fist. "Watch your mouth! Where's your proof? Shut your mouth!"
"I fixed your car and didn't charge you—why are you talking trash?"
The boss urgently grabbed and pulled Wu Zhong aside—his strength was immense, and Wu Zhong couldn't break free.
"Enough, enough," the boss said.
Wu Zhong, caught mid-rant, couldn't get free. If he exploded he'd cause serious trouble. He hated blanket insults—why label all of Gan Province like that? He hadn't known his father or grandfather, but his mother had said they were heroes.
His great-grandfather had even taken part in the August 1 uprising—what right did this man have to insult them?
But the boss held him down with a grim face.
Seeing Wu Zhong so furious, the owner smirked in the driver's seat, uninterested, started the car, and drove off with a flourish.
The three in the shop watched him go.
Wu Zhong fumed, "Boss! You always brag about how tough you are—you're not going to beat him? Why hold me back?"
The boss let go, lit a cigarette, and said, "You've been working out here for three years and still have that temper?"
"I held you back for your own good. If you hit him, for whatever reason, it's your fault."
"These people are trouble—if anything happens later, can you pay for it?"
Wu Zhong deflated. "I... I wouldn't seriously hurt him..."
The boss patted him and handed him a cigarette. "You're too young. Didn't you see he's been filming? People like that are the hardest to deal with."
"If this escalates, I can't handle the fallout. They'll clamp down from above and everything will be shut down. My shop would be gone."
Wu Zhong was silent, utterly deflated. He couldn't argue with the boss.
Honestly, he had been impulsive. Calmed down, he knew that hitting the owner would lead to massive trouble.
He was already busy and barely sleeping—working extra as a wake-up worker after shifts. He couldn't let the cash flow break. If he acted on impulse, what would happen to his hospitalized grandfather?
Thinking of that, his anger evaporated. He sat in a chair, lost in thought.
The boss and Old Wang shrugged, more concerned with the fact they lost the job. They argued back and forth about whose fault it was.
Wu Zhong didn't join in. He mulled over his inexplicable door-welding ability.
When people are poor, insults fly easily. That made him more anxious about the strange power that had suddenly appeared within him.