My Dead Mother Stole My Luck,So I Became Hell’s Inspector

My mother died three years ago, on the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month. I thought the nightmare of living under her control had finally ended.

I never imagined she'd become an official in the Underworld's "Luck Bureau" and start skimming my "Spring Festival fortune."

From then on, every New Year became a disaster.

But she never expected we'd meet again—in the Underworld itself.

1.

My mother died three years ago, on the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month.

She was standing on a stool by the front door, hanging up Spring Festival couplets, when her hand slipped. Her whole body pitched backward.

The back of her skull cracked against the threshold. Blood seeped into the freshly pasted fu character—the one that meant "good fortune."

I didn't cry.

In fact, the moment she stopped breathing, a shameful wave of relief washed through me.

The woman who had controlled every aspect of my life for twenty-six years was finally gone. She couldn't manage me anymore.

Starting today, I could sleep whenever I wanted. Eat whatever I wanted. Be friends with whoever I wanted.

But I was naive.

On the seventh night after her death, my mother came back. She walked straight into my dream.

In her hands, she clutched a ledger that glowed with an eerie blue-green light.

"Serena White! Wake up!" Her voice was sharp, a command.

I stared at her in horror. "Mom... aren't you dead?"

"You think death means I can't manage you anymore?" She let out a cold laugh and flipped open the glowing ledger. "I'm a ninth-rank official in the Luck Bureau now. I oversee the New Year fortune of you younger generations!"

Her finger jabbed at the page. "Look at this yourself! Your 'Spring Festival Fortune Score' for next year is only six hundred thirty! Mia Carter upstairs has twelve hundred! That's double yours!"

"What score?"

"The amount of happiness you're allowed to enjoy during the Spring Festival!" Spittle flew from her lips. "The satisfaction of eating New Year's Eve dinner, the joy of receiving red envelopes, the pleasure of watching the Spring Festival Gala, how smoothly your visits to relatives go—it's all in here!"

She snapped the ledger shut. "Starting this year, I'm confiscating all of it! Wanting to enjoy life at your age—what'll you do when you're old? This is for your own good!"

"Mom—"

"Don't call me Mom! Useless girl!" Her shadow began to fade. "Break even one rule, and you'll regret it..."

I jolted awake, sitting bolt upright in bed. Cold sweat had soaked through my pajamas.

The room was pitch black. Only a sliver of streetlight crept through the gap in the curtains.

My hand trembled as I reached for the lamp switch. I pressed it once, twice, three times.

Nothing.

Power outage?

I slid out of bed barefoot and walked to the window.

I pulled the curtain aside and looked out. Across the street, every apartment blazed with light. Only my unit sat in total darkness.

It wasn't a blackout.

It was only my apartment.

I fumbled for my phone and turned on the flashlight.

The harsh white beam cut through the darkness, landing on the altar table in the living room.

My mother's memorial portrait stood there, still and silent within the circle of light. Her black-and-white eyes stared straight at me.

The downward curve of her lips looked especially unsettling in the shifting shadows.

"Coincidence," I muttered to myself. "It has to be a coincidence."

I forced myself to stay calm and went to the kitchen to find candles.

The flame flickered, casting trembling shadows on the walls.

I carried the candle into the kitchen and dug through the freezer until I found a bag of frozen dumplings.

When my mother was alive, she forbade me from eating frozen food. New Year's Eve dinner had to be handmade, she insisted. Frozen dumplings had no "family flavor."

I was going to cook them anyway.

I deliberately boiled them five minutes too long, until they turned to mush. My small act of rebellion.

The first dumpling went into my mouth. I chewed hard—and choked.

The wrapper lodged in my throat, stuck halfway down.

I coughed violently, my face turning red. I rushed to the faucet to gulp down water, only to find the tap was dry.

The water had been cut off too.

My phone buzzed at that exact moment. A message in the community group chat: