This year's Ghost Festival came a bit late.
Normally, by the end of August on the solar calendar, it would almost be over, but this year happened to leap two months. After one delay and another, the Ghost Festival coincidentally fell during the eleven-day holiday. Many people were simply preoccupied with thinking about the holiday and completely forgot about this tradition. Otherwise, the middle-aged male customer in Tang Ji's shop wouldn't have rushed over in such a fluster.
The middle-aged man really couldn't understand it all.
It was just these two bundles of paper and some other assorted stuff that he had bought last year at a sundry store, ten bucks for a bundle, and the incense was two dollars a bunch. Sure, there was more expensive stuff, but the most expensive paper was just a few dozen bucks... If Tang Ji quoted three or four hundred, he'd turn on his heel and leave—definitely a rip-off!