Lucky Coin

Lucky Coin

Rape followed his father home in a daze. After taking off his clothes, he rushed back to his room and collapsed onto his bed, falling into a deep sleep. His mother had intended to make him wash his face and feet, but his father stopped her, feeling exhausted himself.

It was unclear how much time had passed, but Rape was dimly aware of someone yelling in his ear: “Wake up! You need to wake up right now. I command you to wake up!”

He opened his eyes and looked up, then screamed.

It was deep into the night, and his piercing scream echoed through the house. Moments later, the room filled with the sound of hurried footsteps. Rape's father was the first to arrive, followed closely by his mother and then his little sister, who was still wearing her nightgown and sleepily holding a stuffed doll.

“What’s wrong?” Rape's father quickly asked.

“He, he, he…” Rape stammered, pointing at the figure standing at the head of his bed.

The figure wore a wig, a luxurious outfit, thin lips, and half-closed eyes. His already pale face looked even more bloodless, and the most horrifying part was the large wound at his throat, with blood staining his chest.

Rape had a vivid impression of this person. Just a few hours earlier, he had seen this man being attacked, and he had witnessed the body being carried into the city hall. How could he possibly be standing at the foot of his bed?

“Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid. I know you’re scared,” his father said as he stepped closer.

Rape stared in astonishment as his father walked through the figure’s body, as if it were nothing but air. He looked at his mother and sister, who clearly were unaware of the unexpected guest in their home.

In that moment, Rape understood: the figure before him was a ghost.

“It’s okay, everything is over. Just sleep it off, and you’ll feel better,” his father continued to comfort him.

“I feel a little better,” Rape said as he sat up, his face still pale.

“Do you want me to stay with you for a while?” his father asked.

Rape wished his father would stay, but unfortunately, he heard the ghost speak to him in a menacing tone: “Tell your father to leave; I have many things to discuss with you.”

Rape was certain only he could hear those words; his father, mother, and sister showed no reaction.

“You should go to sleep. You must be tired too. I’ll just sit here for a bit; I just had a bad dream,” Rape chose to comply. He didn’t dare defy even the orders of a petty thief, let alone a ghost, especially one who had been a person of importance in life.

“I’ll make you a bowl of ginger tea. Drink it, and you’ll feel better,” his mother said from the side.

“Susan, go back to bed,” his father said as he turned to pat his daughter’s cheek.

“Dad, you can go back to sleep too. I just need to sit for a while,” Rape waved his hand, clearly indicating he wanted his family to leave.

His father felt a bit puzzled but eventually nodded in agreement.

The door closed, and Rape looked at the ghost before him, asking softly, “Why have you come to my house? I didn’t kill you.”

“Of course, it wasn’t you. But you took something of mine,” the ghost pointed at Rape’s pillow.

Under the pillow was a small bag, filled with the stolen goods that the petty thief had stuffed there, of which Rape was unaware.

At that moment, Rape untied the string of the bag, holding it by the bottom and tipping it over. Six or seven exquisite pocket watches, a dozen rings, and an equal number of necklaces, along with dozens of coins, tumbled out.

“It’s this. This is a lucky coin; carrying it will ensure smooth sailing…” The ghost pointed to one of the coins. This coin was larger than the others, with a rose design on one side and a scale on the reverse.

The ghost seemed lost in thought, a look of sorrow crossing his face. After a long moment, he continued, “However, this is also a cursed coin. It will bring you a series of lucky events, allowing your wishes to come true. But it also accumulates misfortune, and when the time is right, it will erupt. Every owner throughout its history has met a tragic end.”

Rape gasped, involuntarily asking, “Including you?”

The ghost nodded.

“I will find a way to return this coin to your descendants,” Rape quickly said, even willing to swear if necessary.

“I have no children, nor any relatives worth mentioning, so this coin now belongs to you. But with it, you must also bear a responsibility.” The ghost leaned closer: “You must help me take revenge.”

Rape’s face turned even paler as he recalled the assassin, the ghostly figure, and the skill that could deflect bullets.

“I can’t do that.” Rape shook his head without hesitation.

The ghost did not get angry but spoke leisurely, “You cannot refuse, nor will you be able to.”

“This coin was given to me by someone else; you can go find him. He definitely has more potential than I do,” Rape suggested, recalling the petty thief.

“I know, it was that petty thief. I saw him steal things from my corpse, including two rings and a pocket watch.” The ghost appeared relaxed, as if recounting someone else's experience. “But alas, that is fate. Fate has chosen you, not him.”

Footsteps echoed from outside, and Rape quickly lay down, pretending to be asleep.

The door opened, and his mother entered, carrying a small pot that emanated a pungent ginger smell. Seeing Rape asleep, she smiled wryly and shook her head, placing the pot on the bedside table before quietly leaving the room.