She wrote her name, animal sign, and birthdate on Granny Kwok’s packet of spirit papers. On the boy and girl “petty person” papers, she wrote Tak-Wing and Emily’s names, animal signs, and birthdates. She smeared pork grease from a little dish that Granny Kwok provided onto the mouth of the neatly folded three-dimensional paper tiger that Granny also handed her, so that it would be well-disposed toward her as it journeyed through the spirit world.

On a stool in front of her with a brick atop the seat, Granny Kwok beat the effigies of Tak-Wing and Emily with and old shoe and chanted:

Hit your wicked hand

Gain nothing that you planned

Hit your wicked eye

This is how you die

Hit your wicked arm

Open you to harm

Hit your wicked chest

May you never rest

Hit your wicked groin

Demons may you join

Hit your wicked foot

Cover you in soot—

The beating continued until the repetition of curses droned in Ting-Yan’s ear and she saw in her mind’s eye an army of demons descending on her enemies.

When the paper had been beaten to a pulpy mess, Granny Kwok stuffed it into the belly of the paper tiger, set the tiger alight, and dropped it into the ritual ash basket. Ting-Yan watched its striped face go up in flames. As it burned, Granny fed the flames with the gold- and silver-coloured papers in the stack that Ting-Yan had written her name on. Granny chanted blessings for Ting-Yan. She waved burning spirit money over Ting-Yan’s head to chase away the evil spirits. She followed with a thick bunch of smouldering joss sticks. The smoke permeated her skin and Ting-Yan relaxed.

“Nearly done,” said Granny Kwok. “We just need to ask the spirits if they’ve heard your prayers.”

She threw a pair of moon blocks and one landed on its side and while the other landed flat against the table. “Yin and yang together,” she said. “The world is back in balance. The spirits have heard us.”

When the ceremony had finished, Ting-Yan felt a palpable sense of relief and optimism that she might get some vengeance on the man who had betrayed her and the permed and lipsticked hussy who had bewitched him. “Justice at last,” she said, as she got up to go.

“My work has great strength,” Granny Kwok said. “But if you really want it to work, then you need to back it with your own actions. The next time they get married, you must be there. And you must interrupt. Even if the interruption has no immediate effect, it will have deep long-term ones. That is how you will get your justice. If it is justice you really want.”

“What do you mean the next time they get married?”