Since their entry into the Owl, this was the first time they had wavered in executing their task.
The Starving Ghost misunderstood their silence and forced a smile. “Uh, I understand. Don’t feel troubled. I’ll leave now.”
Without waiting for their response, he turned into a wisp of black mist and disappeared swiftly and cleanly.
Xu Wang and Wu Sheng were too late to react, left standing there by the Ghost Spring.
“What should we do?” Xu Wang asked Wu Sheng, feeling a bitter taste in his heart.
Wu Sheng smoothed his furrowed brows and said firmly, “I’ll listen to you.”
Xu Wang suddenly squatted down, sighed heavily, and cursed as if venting his frustration. “Who chose this damn task!”
Advisor Wu, who had made the decision to go to the left wing of the Western Courtyard in front of the Ghost Mansion for his team captain, wore an innocent face, pretending to have temporary amnesia.
“What would happen if we don’t poison?” Xu Wang asked, making up his mind and looking up.
Wu Sheng replied realistically, “We’ll fail the task.”
Xu Wang refused to give up. “But Lao Qian and Xiao Kuang haven’t found the badge yet.”
Wu Sheng pondered for a moment, then outlined a burden-free, beautiful future for his team captain. “If Lao Qian and Xiao Kuang can’t find the badge, and we wait for the badge without poisoning, ultimately letting other teams successfully submit their tasks first, then we won’t have wronged Xiao Hungry, nor Lao Qian and Xiao Kuang.”
Xu Wang wished to shake hands tightly with him. “I knew you would understand me…”
Wu Sheng squatted down with him. “Don’t frown. You’ll lose all your luck.” Although his words were teasing, his hand tenderly stroked Xu Wang’s head.
Xu Wang was surprised. “Since when do you believe in luck?”
Wu Sheng said helplessly, “Since you started looking so worried.”
Xu Wang: “……”
Wu Sheng: “Stop overthinking. Let’s just wait.”
Xu Wang: “I don’t want to harm Xiao Hungry, but I also don’t want Lao Qian and Xiao Kuang to fail. They must be desperately searching for the badge right now.”
Wu Sheng: “Then let’s pray that right after Lao Qian and Xiao Kuang find the badge, someone immediately submits their papers. The time difference shouldn’t be more than one second, so we won’t even have time to poison.”
Xu Wang: “Aren’t the details of your wish a bit too specific…”
……
Eastern Courtyard, the Underworld, Dream Ghost’s residence.
In the courtyard, a sweaty head flew in the front, followed by a disheveled male ghost.
Inside the house, Kuang Jinxin hid by the door, intensely controlling the severed hand, sweat beads forming on his nose.
After throwing several stationeries to no avail, Qian Ai finally used his last [(Illusory) Quit While You’re Ahead] to lure the Dream Ghost from the bed inside the house to the courtyard, initiating a “romantic chase” around the courtyard.
Under normal circumstances, the Dream Ghost wouldn’t easily leave its bed.
Unless the situation was special.
Like being lured away by [(Illusory) Quit While You’re Ahead], taking away the pillow and bedding.
When the bed was left with only a wooden plank, even a Bed Loving Ghost couldn’t withstand it.
Thus, the first step of the tactic, luring the ghost away from the mountain, was successful.
Unexpectedly, the Dream Ghost’s bed was enchanted with ghost magic, and no matter how the severed hand circled the bed, it couldn’t touch it!
Qian Ai didn’t know the specifics, only that he was running out of breath and his legs were about to break, with no movement inside the house!
He dared not shout to communicate, fearing the Dream Ghost would realize someone was still inside, so he could only call out to his partner through telepathy—Xiao Kuang, hurry up!
“Whoosh—”
The Dream Ghost leaped into the air and landed in front of Qian Ai, blocking his path.
Qian Ai immediately stood still, like countless times before, calmly controlling [(Illusion) Quit While You’re Ahead]. This illusory stationery, although mixed with some bitter memories, was truly handy to use. Regardless of what ghost magic the Dream Ghost used, whether it was the “Life-Claiming Long Hair” or “Heart-Plucking Ghost Claw”, all were absorbed by him, a perfect combination of defense and counterattack!
The Dream Ghost’s face was pale, and in its slender phoenix eyes, the base color was the pain of prolonged nightmares, but at the surface, it was full of murderous intent!
He didn’t speak, remaining gloomy and silent throughout.
Now, he stared at Qian Ai, and his severed hair, which had been cut off for the 101st time, fell to the ground as black silk.
Qian Ai put his hands on his hips, adjusted his breathing, and shook his head. “How many times has it been? Can’t you see, my defense is unsolvable? Be sensible, stay quiet, and give yourself and me a break, won’t you?”
At first, he was quite intimidated by the Dream Ghost, not daring to even look back while being chased. But as they fought, Qian Ai’s feelings towards the Dream Ghost subtly changed. Not to say they became friends, but at least he became more familiar and could exchange glances.
Unfortunately, the Dream Ghost was sparing with words.
“Ding—”
[Owl: Congratulations on finding 5/23 Ghost Mansion badge!]
The moment Qian Ai heard the ding, he was overjoyed, knowing without further prompts that Xiao Kuang had found the badge!
“Xiao Kuang, well done—” Qian Ai, nearly suffocated, finally could shout loudly!
Of course, he wasn’t foolish; after shouting, he turned to run, as per the strategy he and Xiao Kuang had set beforehand—grab the badge and run!
But just as he started, he felt darkness before his eyes.
It was the severed hair that had entangled his head!
Qian Ai immediately reached up to grab it, but the hair didn’t budge and even tightened more!
Qian Ai was horrified!
It was impossible. The previously severed hair, once cut, was cut. Its essence had been absorbed by the illusory stationery, and unless he wanted to counterattack, the severed hair couldn’t come back to life!
But now, the hair was like countless snakes, wrapping his head into a black mummy!
A few steps away, the Dream Ghost bowed his head, his eyes hidden in his hair. His slender figure looked so thin it was as if it could be blown away by the wind. But Qian Ai, looking closely through the remaining strands, saw his lips silently mouthing some ghost magic, just like the countless times he had attacked before!
Qian Ai immediately closed his eyes and summoned [Quit While You’re Ahead], but there was no response.
He finally realized the problem—the duration of [Quit While You’re Ahead] had ended!
The power of the stationery was too strong, so its duration was naturally short, and thus the Dream Ghost’s magic started to take effect!
Qian Ai had just sensed something wrong when his body, along with his head, was flung into the air by the hair, drawing a perfect arc at a high altitude and rapidly falling towards the roof of the Dream Ghost’s house!
Kuang Jinxin used four stationeries to break the ghost magic and allowed the severed hand to touch the badge. Just as he was about to slip out of the house, he heard a loud “bang” from above.
A huge hole was smashed into the roof, and Qian Ai crashed into the room, landing directly on the Dream Ghost’s bed!
“Qian Ge!” Kuang Jinxin’s heart tightened, and he immediately ran to the bed.
“Don’t come here—” Qian Ai shouted loudly, struggling to breathe but still sternly warning his teammate. “Don’t get on the bed!”
He couldn’t afford to have Kuang Jinxin get involved too.
Startled by the shout, Kuang Jinxin finally came to his senses, realizing he would be just delivering himself to the enemy, and immediately activated [(Defense) Lost in a Five-Mile Fog]!
Instantly, the entire courtyard of the Dream Ghost was enveloped in a thick fog. Inside the house and in the courtyard, everything was shrouded in white fog, obscuring people, ghosts, and houses, all in impenetrable mist!
The Dream Ghost, ready to enter the room, suddenly lost direction in the fog and couldn’t find his way home.
Kuang Jinxin stood still and silent, not making a sound, to avoid alerting the Dream Ghost.
He knew his defense stationery was only a temporary measure. To truly save Qian Ai, he had to get him off the bed!
But he had no idea about Qian Ai’s current condition. Since crashing into the room, Qian Ai had been silent, and Kuang Jinxin could only faintly hear rustling noises, as if someone was having a nightmare on the bed!
On the bed, Qian Ai was trapped in an endless nightmare.
But he didn’t realize it.
For Qian Ai, he just fell into the room, onto the bed, and then countless hands suddenly grew from both sides of the bed, clasping each other tightly like straps, immobilizing him completely!
“Let me go!” Qian Ai yelled but couldn’t hear his own voice!
Startled, he struggled fiercely, but suddenly another hand stretched out from under the head of the bed, covering his mouth and nose!
Qian Ai suffocated for a moment, trying to break free, but his entire body was immobile!
In the next moment, countless little ghosts crawled out from under the bed. The hands holding him were those of the little ghosts hiding under the bed!
The little ghosts had a green complexion, skinny and bony, emitting eerie laughter as they climbed onto his stomach and legs.
As they climbed on him, the hands that were holding Qian Ai naturally loosened.
Qian Ai knew he should immediately flip them over, but his body stiffened uncontrollably.
“Get… off…”
The little ghost stood on his chest, making it difficult for him to speak. Though he was obviously scolding, it sounded more like a plea.
The little ghost squatted on his chest, leaning close to his face, mockingly laughing, “Hehehe.”
Qian Ai was frantic, angry, and scared. His scalp felt like it was exploding, and his blood vessels were about to burst. He bit his own tongue hard and, amidst the severe pain, finally realized the anomaly—how could he see his own body!
His invisibility cloak shouldn’t have worn off so quickly… Qian Ai’s eyes widened in realization. This was a dream! A nightmare created by the Dream Ghost’s bed—a literal ghost pressing down* on him!
*Sleep paralysis (as explained before).
Whether he could use stationery in a dream, Qian Ai didn’t know.
But at the moment, he couldn’t think of a better way to escape!
Clenching his teeth, Qian Ai used his last ounce of strength to lift his arm and activated a stationery!
Instantly, all the little ghosts heard the sound from hell—
[Owl: Someone used [(Illusory) Ah, Dropped Money] on you~~]
With this reminder, all the little ghosts’ pockets, hidden linings, and secret compartments turned inside out, dropping gold ingots, silver bars, large copper coins, clinking and clattering all over the floor!
The little ghosts were shocked and terrified, their originally pale, ghostly faces twisting even more grotesquely. They all scrambled to the ground, frantically picking up the money!
Qian Ai felt a bit guilty, thinking that these were offerings burned for them by their living relatives.
In the face of money, the distinction between humans and ghosts vanishes, as they both share the same pain.
But in the face of survival, Qian Ai could only sympathize with the little ghosts for a second, then jumped off the bed and ran, shouting as he ran—
“Xiao Kuang, Xiao Kuang, Xiao Kuang—”
“Here, here, here. Wake up fast!”
Did he really call someone over?!
Qian Ai was surprised, but suddenly felt dizzy. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Kuang Jinxin standing by the bed, holding his head, and shaking it hard.
Qian Ai immediately jumped off the bed, not daring to touch it again!
Kuang Jinxin immediately dispersed the fog. Qian Ai’s shouting would definitely attract the Dream Ghost, so the fog was useless now!
Sure enough, as soon as the fog cleared, they saw the Dream Ghost already at the door.
It stood there motionless, looking at Qian Ai and then at the empty bed, tilting its head as if puzzled.
Qian Ai pulled Kuang Jinxin behind him, frowning at the Dream Ghost. “Do you always have the nightmare I just had on that bed?”
The Dream Ghost narrowed its eyes, gazing gloomily at him.
“You call that a nightmare?” Qian Ai sneered, then stood tall and proudly educated the Dream Ghost. “Let me tell you what a real nightmare is. Just two words—no money!”
“Why did you help me?” Wu Sheng asked the Starving Ghost.
“Do I need a reason?” The Starving Ghost countered.
Wu Sheng nodded. “Yes, you do.”
His eyes conveyed both confusion and wariness.
Xu Wang understood.
Finding out Wu Sheng wasn’t a ghost, the Starving Ghost’s silence was already abnormal, and his help was even more puzzling.
The Starving Ghost fell silent, seemingly struggling to explain. His reluctance wasn’t out of opposition or disgust, but more like not knowing how to articulate his feelings.
Xu Wang and Wu Sheng waited patiently. After a long pause, the Starving Ghost finally looked up and spoke softly, his voice filled with emotion. “Actually, I’ve guided many ghosts, but you two are the first who were willing to take me out of the Underworld and all the way to the Heavenly Realm…”
“It doesn’t matter to me whether you are ghosts or not. All I know is that you are my friends.”
His gaze was intense, contradicting his usually timid nature, making Xu Wang and Wu Sheng uncomfortable to look at directly.
“Xiao Hungry…” Xu Wang felt uneasy but didn’t know what to say.
The Starving Ghost snapped out of his reverie at this call, immediately embarrassed as if the heartfelt confession wasn’t his. He quickly said, “I’ll go outside and find the direction of the Ghost Spring!” and hurried away.
In an instant, the Starving Ghost vanished. Xu Wang looked at Wu Sheng, wanting to say something but hesitating.
Wu Sheng sighed. “If you want to say something, just say it.”
“Do you blame me?” Xu Wang asked.
Wu Sheng was baffled. “Blame you for what?”
Xu Wang said, “For unnecessarily persuading the Starving Ghost to leave the Eastern Courtyard.”
Wu Sheng shrugged. “Yeah, if you hadn’t, we wouldn’t have gotten into all that mess.”
Xu Wang fell silent.
Uncovering how Xiao Hungry helped Wu Sheng cheat, revealing their true natures, eliciting his sad story, and realizing he considered them friends—this persuasion indeed was a mess.
Seeing Xu Wang’s dejected look, Wu Sheng patted his head and sighed, then changed the subject. “But if you hadn’t, I would have.”
Xu Wang looked up blankly. “Really?”
Wu Sheng affirmed, “Of course.”
“You would have struggled too?” Xu Wang was surprised. “I thought you’d lecture me, saying the mission comes first.”
“Being rational doesn’t mean I lack humanity,” Wu Sheng replied irritably, pinching Xu Wang’s cheek hard. “If I didn’t struggle in such a situation, I’d be a monster…”
Xu Wang accepted the pinch without complaint, finding some comfort in knowing Wu Sheng shared his feelings.
“Hey?” Wu Sheng suddenly seemed to remember something, asking Xu Wang, “Did he say he guided many ghosts?”
“Ah? Yeah… I guess…” Xu Wang struggled to recall.
Wu Sheng was already racing down the thought lane. “Who are these ‘many ghosts’? Are they challengers like us? If so, does he remember them?”
Since their failure in 8/23, they had repeatedly passed several levels in order to get badges. Naturally, they had also met some NPCs repeatedly, but none of these NPCs remembered them.
The NPC in 1/23 were bears, which could be ignored; in 2/23, the red-eye flight had minor adjustments with some new and old faces among the passengers, but 90% of them were the same acquaintances, available for conversation again, still engaging in the pattern of exchanging names and polite small talk like strangers; in 3/23, they didn’t encounter Xiao Ding again, but they met Yuan Zai and even a familiar-looking mall security guard, both of whom had no memory of them; in 4/23, they avoided Hei Momo but ran into Xiao Huang and Xiao Bai again, who, similarly, treated them as if it was their first meeting, with no difference even in Xiao Huang’s dialogue.
Through this journey, they have come to accept as an unspoken rule that “NPCs reset” in the world of the Owl. It’s easy to understand when you think about it. If NPCs had memories, wouldn’t the Owl become chaotic? This is much more impactful than the small cards Wu Sheng issued.
As they were pondering, the Starving Ghost returned.
He carefully closed the door and whispered, “The Ghost Spring is in the northeast corner of the Heavenly Realm.”
Xu Wang and Wu Sheng remained silent.
Thinking they didn’t believe him, the Starving Ghost hurriedly added, “I smelled the ghost energy. It’s strongest in the northeast direction. I’m sure.”
“The Ghost Spring can wait.” Xu Wang pulled the Starving Ghost to a chair. “I have another question first.”
Exploring the Owl’s nature took precedence over badges and levels.
“Sure, ask.” The Starving Ghost complied willingly.
“You said you guided many ghosts. Who are these ‘many ghosts’?” Xu Wang got straight to the point.
The Starving Ghost furrowed his brows, seeming puzzled. “Who? Do you mean their names or appearances? Actually, I’m not sure if they were all ghosts. Some seemed to have no ghost energy…”
“Names and appearances, anything!” Xu Wang urged impatiently.
“Okay.” The Starving Ghost nodded, his gaze drifting as he tried to remember.
Suddenly, the Starving Ghost knocked on his head in frustration. “Strange, why can’t I remember? I definitely guided those ghosts…”
“Don’t rush. Take your time,” Xu Wang tried to calm him.
The Starving Ghost looked at them helplessly, his expression becoming chaotic and pained. “I really can’t remember. I remember guiding them, but why can’t I recall a single name or face…” As he spoke, he became more anxious, his eyes reddening.
“Try to…” Xu Wang started but was stopped by Wu Sheng gripping his wrist.
The rest of the words were swallowed.
Instead, Wu Sheng asked the Starving Ghost. “You don’t remember their names or faces, but you must remember what they did, right?”
The Starving Ghost looked lost as he turned to Wu Sheng, eyes blank.
“You just said it,” Wu Sheng reminded. “None of them were willing to take you out of the Underworld.”
After a long stare, the Starving Ghost finally spoke weakly. “If I say I don’t remember anything except that none of them wanted to take me out, will you be upset?”
Wu Sheng shook his head decisively. “Remembering that alone is already impressive.”
“Impressive?” The Starving Ghost didn’t understand.
Wu Sheng glanced at Xu Wang.
Xu Wang got the hint—Advisor Wu’s class was in session.
But unlike before, they weren’t facing a reset NPC. This time, it was an NPC who “might remember certain things”. Wu Sheng’s lesson plan was likely to be revolutionary.
Wu Sheng: “We don’t belong to this world.”
Xu Wang: “……” That’s a bit too direct!
“Don’t belong?” The Starving Ghost was either slow or open-minded, still able to ask.
Wu Sheng nodded affirmingly. “Yes, we don’t belong here. We’re from another world.”
The Starving Ghost’s eyes glazed over in confusion.
Xu Wang held his forehead.
“You don’t need to understand. Just try to remember,” Wu Sheng emphasized again. “We’re not from here, and those like us aren’t either. We only appear here between midnight and five in the morning every day. It might not align with your time, but it’s definitely a fixed period…”
The Starving Ghost, with an expression close to tears, said, “Why should I remember these things…”
“Do you want to be free?”
“Huh?”
“Your life might not be under your control. Everything you do now is manipulated by a force. Don’t you want to break free from it?”
“I have no life.”
“It’s the same for a ghost.”
“If what you say is true, and I remember these strange words, can I break free?”
“First remember, then think. With thought comes doubt, and with doubt, there’s a chance to break the chains.”
Xiao Hungry looked at Xu Wang for help, or rather, for rescue.
Xu Wang held his forehead and felt a bit of pity for him. “Be good. Remember it first. Whether you break through or not, let it happen naturally.”
Xiao Hungry was obedient. Afterward, no matter what Wu Sheng said, he would silently repeat it with his lips, taking it very seriously.
Finally, when Wu Sheng finished, he asked, “Since you don’t belong here, why did you come here?”
“Just like you, we are also controlled by this force,” Wu Sheng said. “It controls us to enter and controls you to cooperate.”
The Starving Ghost blinked, trying to digest what he could understand. As he digested, he suddenly got stuck. “Aren’t you looking for the Ghost Spring? What do those things you just said have to do with the Ghost Spring?”
Wu Sheng was caught off guard.
Xu Wang was also stunned.
Yes, what does all this have to do with the Ghost Spring?
They talked about the universe and life but forgot their original mission. It was Xiao Hungry who firmly remembered it for them.
But how should they answer?
The previous Starving Ghost was just a kind-hearted ghost leading the way. They felt guilty for lying to him, but now that the Starving Ghost had become their friend, that guilt had turned into a sense of sin!
“It’s okay. If you don’t want to say, I won’t ask,” the Starving Ghost said calmly. “Since I promised to help you find it, I will not let you down.”
With that, he closed his eyes, slightly spread his arms, and tilted his head back, his expression slowly becoming solemn, as if exerting effort in secret.
After a while, Xu Wang and Wu Sheng suddenly felt the ground under their feet become soft, as if the stone had turned into mud!
In the next instant, the surroundings changed, and the three of them somehow arrived in a courtyard with no trees and only a spring in the center. The spring water was gushing out—not clear, almost black in color.
The Ghost Spring!
Wu Sheng’s heart trembled, while Xu Wang looked incredulously at the Starving Ghost beside him. “Did you teleport us?!”
The Starving Ghost scratched his head, smiling sheepishly with a bit of embarrassment, still looking timid. “It’s just a small ghost trick, not worth mentioning.”
The wind stopped.
Suddenly, the courtyard was very quiet, with only the sound of the spring bubbling, dull and heavy, making one’s heart feel heavy.
“What now? We’ve found the Ghost Spring. What do we need to do next?” The Starving Ghost looked at Xu Wang and Wu Sheng, suppressing his curiosity, and said with difficulty, “If it’s inconvenient, I can leave.”
The zone where Nol and his companions entered was precisely the territory of the dog-headed beastmen.
The dog-headed knights generously provided snow goats for these four “frail” humans to ride. These tall and sturdy goats treated cliffs as if they were flat ground. In less than half an hour, Nol and his companions were brought down the mountain.
The knights’ village was called “Sheepskin Ball Village”, located at the foot of the snow mountain, with over a hundred households residing there.
Nol hadn’t made any specific settings, but according to the racial ecology of Shiva, it wasn’t strange for such small villages to exist—
The northern part of Shiva bordered Gratice, with a harsh climate surrounded by ice and snow all year round. The inhabitants here were mostly thick-furred beastmen. Once the population of any tribe became too large, a portion of the youth would often voluntarily leave to establish new villages.
Amidst the swirling snowflakes, the small village resembled gingerbread decorations on a cream cake, quaint and adorable.
Nearly every household in the village raised snow goats and high cliff chickens. These goats could grow as tall as horses, and the high cliff chickens were significantly larger than normal chickens—their eggs were comparable to the size of an adult’s fist.
At this moment, smoke wafted from several small houses, and fluffy dog-headed cubs frolicked in the snow.
“Humans, I must first take you to see the village chief. Without a pass, you’ll find it difficult to move a step in Shiva,” Knight Saint Bernard said seriously. “Of course, this pass is temporary. Once you reach human territory, you’ll need to apply for official identification.”
“We understand.” Painter nodded in agreement. “I’ve heard about the severity of poachers.”
The dog-headed beastmen were somewhat better off, but the fur and scales of some other races were hard to come by on the black market; not to mention races like succubi, elves, and sirens, which were inherently valuable.
Shiva didn’t completely refuse humans, but due to its multi-racial characteristics, it was particularly strict with immigration control.
This was a setting already present in “Tahe World”. This feature made Shiva a bottleneck for Player levels, only opening up in the mid- to late-game.
Nol curiously observed the surrounding houses. The dog-headed beastmen were equally curious about them, with many puppies clamoring at the windows to watch the excitement.
Their gaze held only curiosity. For these richly furred races, the bald humans—regardless of gender—really had no appeal.
The village chief’s house was in the center of the village, indistinguishable from the other small wooden houses. Saint Bernard didn’t even knock. He just pushed the door and entered.
“I smell humans, and other strange things.” A hoarse voice spoke, fluent in the common language. “Bonakani, what have you picked up this time?”
Upon entering, the warmth enveloped Nol, making him squint. When he looked again, he saw a Border Collie’s head wearing glasses.
The village chief, wrapped in a goat skin coat, lifted his nose, sniffing suspiciously.
“A human nun from the Temple of Life, one who ate too much boom fish, and one contaminated with the sea’s filth.” Knight Alaskan quickly answered.
“That’s right,” Saint Bernard said gruffly.
The Border Collie chief eyed Painter for a while, then with a roll of his eyes, said, “Well, since they say so… let them stay here for a night and set off tomorrow morning. Let the humans handle it themselves.”
“Thank you for your generosity.” Painter lifted his skirt, performing a perfect curtsy.
“Later, there will be goat milk porridge, boiled eggs, roasted meat, and apple sweet wine. Bonakani will bring it to you.” Border Collie’s eyes briefly passed over the group. “But you aren’t residents of our country. These services are not free… Hmm, including the service of bringing you down, there will be a charge.”
Saint Bernard looked bewildered, its tail drooping, remaining silent in confusion.
“Theoretically, it’s 300 gold wheels per person, but since you brought three cubs, a total of 1,000 gold wheels will suffice.” Border Collie pushed its glasses up.
Nol was shocked—while it was reasonable to compensate these furry knights, this was a bit too much! Even as nuns from the headquarters of the Temple of Life, they wouldn’t carry around 1,000 gold wheels in cash.
Teest also expressed surprise with a “huh.”
“This…” Painter showed a somewhat troubled expression.
“Can’t pay, can you?” Border Collie’s claw tapped the wooden floor. “Ah, well. We won’t be too harsh on guests… In that case, you can work off the debt.”
Nol was uncertain about where this was going. [What’s going on?]
[I haven’t heard of this rule,] Teest responded. [At least, it wasn’t the case when I last entered.]
[…Did you enter as a human last time?]
[Not exactly. I disguised myself as an elf then.] Teest winked at Nol. [Too bad. If we weren’t disguised as nuns, I could have brought back the succubus outfit.]
It seemed like this was a special treatment for humans. Nol sighed internally—if not for fear of being targeted by the Temple of Life, they could easily disguise as a monster squad to enter.
“What form of work will pay off the debt?” Painter asked politely.
The Border Collie chief didn’t answer directly but signaled to Knight Saint Bernard. “Call Samobain and Hashbyte in.”
“Yes!”
Soon, along with the original Saint Bernard and Alaskan, four dog-headed knights stood firm in the chief’s room.
“You should thank these knights. Pay off the debt with fifteen minutes of head patting,” the Border Collie chief said calmly.
Nol: “…?”
Is there such a good deal?
Standing in front of him was the newly arrived Samoyed knight, who smiled at him and wagged his tail in a friendly manner. “It’s okay. No need to force yourself.”
“No, no, not at all.” Nol tried to control his voice. “I’m more than happy to do it.”
Before the Border Collie chief could start, Nol began patting the Samoyed’s head.
Indeed, it was warm, fluffy, and soft… When was the last time he had touched a dog?
Nol actually disliked staying alone in an empty house. He longed for the companionship of another life.
Many neighbors in Joy Garden had dogs, and he often saw them walking their beloved pets. He had always wanted to pet them, but work had been so busy that he hadn’t even touched a single dog’s hair…
In fact, Nol also loved cats and had seriously considered adopting one. However, sometimes he had to work overtime and stayed at the company for two or three days straight, leaving him with no confidence in taking care of a cat…
Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but turn his head and sneak a peek at Teest, who was nearby—Teest was looking at the Husky knight with a face that hadn’t been touched yet.
He noticed a very subtle expression on the face of the Mad Monk.
Not just Teest, Painter’s gaze also carried a bit of surprise. The Samoyed knight seemed to enjoy being petted, wagging his tail so much that his cloak fluttered.
…Oh, right, he forgot. In “Tahe World” humans were quite afraid of beastmen.
About twenty minutes passed, and the Border Collie village chief chuckled twice.
“That’s enough. Take them to the guest room. Dinner will be served later.” His attitude was a million times better than when they first entered.
The “guest room” he mentioned wasn’t a simple room, but a detached wooden cabin.
The cabin had two bedrooms, a fairly large living room, and a blazing fireplace. Outside the window, large snowflakes quietly fell. The glass was covered with a layer of water vapor, and the warm light turned into blurred orbs.
“The village chief is quite interesting,” Painter said.
“Nol and I will stay in this room.” Teest directly ignored him and pointed to the better-conditioned bedroom.
Fischer looked at Painter, openly showing a look of disdain. “My Lord, Painter and I…”
“Who said you could sleep?” Teest said coldly. “You’re on night watch. A Supplement Demon can endure.”
“Yes, My Lord!”
Far from being discouraged, Fischer seemed invigorated, as if he had received a reward.
“The village chief is really interesting,” Painter persistently repeated.
“Go ahead.” Nol had no choice but to pick up the conversation.
“He probably smelled something off about us—if trained, dog-headed beastmen can distinguish the scent differences between men and women.” Painter added some wood to the fire. “I thought we’d have to use illusion magic, but it seems he doesn’t intend to wade into these waters.”
“The prolonged head-patting just now was also a test. If we had any malice or disdain for dog-headed beastmen, it would be hard not to show it… Anyway, it’s best if you don’t get any ideas about making a move on him.”
“Is it really okay to just leave it like this?” Fischer coldly retorted. “I also felt that thing smelled something.”
“Hehe, trust me. They, like us, especially enjoy seeing the Temple of Life in disarray.” Painter waved the fire poker. “In times like these, maintaining peace is the best. Right, Teest… hmm?”
Teest had already disappeared, taking the attentive Mr. Nol with him.
“It’s useless to tell you.” Painter pouted, focusing on tending the fireplace. “The former High Priest of the Eternal Church could never possibly have a partner.”
Fischer: “……”
Fischer: “?”
Inside the bedroom.
Teest solemnly drew the curtains, darkening the room immediately, leaving only a candle burning by the bed. The two sat side by side on the bed, the candlelight casting Teest’s shadow on Nol’s knees.
“You seem to really like dogs,” Teest said with an inscrutable tone.
“I like all animals except bugs,” Nol earnestly confessed.
It was hard to tell where the Mad Monk’s thoughts had wandered, but it was best to start with the truth.
“You really are overflowing with kindness… Never mind.” Teest shook his head. “I just wanted to show you a little trick.”
He snapped his fingers, and something furry jumped out from Nol’s knee.
“…Ben?”
The shadow wolf had shrunk to the size of a puppy, similar to their size when they had traveled to the past—the shadow wolf could slightly adjust its size, but it has a limit and definitely couldn’t shrink this small.
“I’ve been pondering the matter of time reversion for a while.” Watching Nol lift Ben with a smile, Teest’s tone became cheerful.
“Don’t you find it interesting? Both the Time Reversion Potion that travels through time and the Age Reversion Potion that reverses physical age are closely related to the concept of ‘time’… and they both taste terrible.”
Nol hugged the whining Ben. “So?”
“I suspect they used the same core material.” Teest shrugged. “So I analyzed the magical fluctuations of the potion in my body and tried to replicate Ben’s state during time reversal.”
“Of course, I don’t have your ability to create magic. Ben truly shrank once before, and there were residual magical traces inside it… I just found the pattern and restored it.”
Nol took half a second to respond.
The core material of a potion determined its magical properties.
Therefore, potion masters often kept their formulas secret to ensured their potions couldn’t be deciphered by others.
Teest found a clever workaround—he didn’t directly unravel the secret of the potion but used the magical properties of “age reversal” to restore the residual “time reversal” on Ben.
This act of using one’s own key to unlock a neighbor’s door was a success for Teest.
The Pomeranian-sized fluffy black ball licked Nol’s hand eagerly.
“Amazing. I hadn’t considered this at all.” Nol hugged the moving Ben.
“Because you always think too much.” Teest laughed. “And I just thought, a little dog might make you happy. This way, it can always stay outside.”
“Besides, I know a little secret you don’t.”
Saying this, Teest leaned in closer. “The potion for creating a Supplement Demon actually tastes quite good—I’ve tasted many potions. Only those two ‘reversion’ ones tasted like they were fished out of a trash can.”
Watching Teest lean in proudly, Nol felt his cheeks heat up. He swallowed the “thank you” that came to his mouth and decided to express his gratitude in a more direct way.
He turned his head and kissed Teest’s cheek. “An impressive discovery. I’ll keep it in mind.”
Nol felt a subtle mood, thinking this had little to do with “Teest dressing as a woman”—they had changed their appearance, presenting a non-threatening facade. All the previous uses and tests were washed away by this harmless appearance.
Despite countless changes in identity, the attraction remained the same.
Teest seemed to have similar troubles, hesitantly reaching out to grasp Nol’s front, drawing the kiss to his lips.
The miniaturized Ben jumped off Nol’s knee, scampering to a corner, and curled up neatly. The room grew hotter as the faint sounds of kissing overshadowed the crackling of the candle.
It felt unbelievably good, Teest thought. Whether it was seeing Nol’s surprised smile or kissing.
He thought trying it out thoroughly for one night would make him lose interest. However, his God had a deadly magic that was more exciting than fresh blood.
Teest’s hand reached under Nol’s wide robe, but before he could explore, he was stopped.
“This isn’t right,” Nol murmured breathlessly. “Kissing is okay… Let’s wait for the rest.”
“Honey, I’m only a year older than you.” Teest raised an eyebrow. “Even if you’re nominally seventeen, I think the problem is..”
“No, you look too young.” Nol shook his head. “I can’t get over that.”
Teest’s expression froze, and he looked at Nol incredulously.
Nol chuckled, rubbed Teest’s warm ear, and added another kiss. “Just a week. Or are you updating your prayer schedule again?”
“Since you say so, I’ll consider it carefully.”
The Mad Monk tidied his messy hair, muttering, “Morning and evening prayers are already scheduled… Let me think about it…”
“I smell dinner.” Nol ran to the corner and picked up the soft shadow wolf. “Let’s go eat. We’ll think after dinner.”
Ben sniffed and agreed with a “howl”.
As for himself, Nol thought, he couldn’t let Teest’s brilliant idea go to waste. It was time to study those bizarre potions from the Eternal Church.
After dinner, he needed to talk to Fischer.
……
Fischer believed in Teest, and Teest believed in Nol. With this wonderful nesting doll relationship, Fischer’s attitude towards Nol was still okay.
“Only the Pope knows the exact source of the potion.” High Priest Fischer sold out his former employer quite calmly. “There is indeed a difference between the Supplement Demon Potion and the Age Reversion Potion. The former has stock; you just go and apply when it’s used up. The latter, it is said, is issued along with the oracle. That’s all I know at my level.”
Coincidentally, there was a Pope here. Nol turned his questioning gaze to Painter—Painter was happily sipping apple cider with grilled meat, looking blissfully content.
Feeling Nol’s gaze, he decisively shook his head. “Don’t look at me. Although the Temple of Life isn’t much, we don’t have those kinds of bizarre potions.”
“What about the oracle?” Nol casually continued.
Painter’s action of pouring the wine paused imperceptibly, and when he spoke again, his tone was as usual. “Well… no comment, no comment. Our relationship hasn’t reached that stage yet, young man.”
Nol didn’t expect Painter to tell him directly—the mystery of the oracle was known only to the Pope within both religions, clearly not information that could be casually shared.
However, Painter’s choice of words was interesting. He could casually mention a “price” for his own oracle, but when it came to the source of the oracle, he only had one sentence about having nothing to do with it.
Painter could no longer be loyal to the Temple of Life. Nol could only understand that the secret of the oracle was of great significance, like the secret of the dragon race. A little carelessness could bring great disaster.
“Forget it.”
Nol breezily changed the topic. “I’m just about to go to Ice Rock City. I should first figure out the little secrets of the Eternal Church.”
“Then you must take me along!” Painter drained his cup of apple cider.
The next day, Knight Saint Bernard prepared a goat snow cart for them.
Two sturdy snow goats pulled the wooden cart fitted with sleds. The cart was lined with thick leather, not letting in a bit of cold wind. The knight also gave them a metal thermos engraved with thermal insulation magic for warming hands.
They seemed afraid that these hairless humans would freeze to death.
Knight Alaskan drove the goats in front of the cart, while Saint Bernard accompanied the four inside. The snow cart slid swiftly on the thick ice, as fast as flying.
“The First Brigade of the Investigation Knights is over there.” Saint Bernard carefully instructed, “I will take you all the way into the tent. Only after they confirm your identities will we leave.”
“It’s not that I doubt you, but only after the humans on that side sign off will our responsibility here completely end. After that, the affairs of you folks will be entirely up to the Temple,” he patiently added, fearing they might misunderstand.
Well, that’s good. As long as the Temple signs off, even if they start going mad afterward, it won’t affect this lovely race.
“Sir Knight, are there other races nearby?”
Teest naturally leaned on Nol’s shoulder and asked “innocently”.
Knight Saint Bernard’s furry face darkened for a moment.
“No.” He said listlessly, “That human knight order doesn’t get along well with anyone. No one wants to be near them.”
That meant there were no other racial territories nearby. Nol casually wrapped his arm around Teest’s shoulder, frantically mapping out possibilities in his mind. In case things went awry, they needed to find the easiest escape route.
Fischer looked puzzled at their intimate actions. It was unknown what he was thinking, but his expression gradually became calm again.
With the muffled wind outside the cart, Nol closed his eyes.
……
Black Forest, Lost Tower.
“What did you say?” Lynn pressed her temples and asked.
“…Mr. Xu has evolved into the new Demon King.”
Anakin took a sip of fruit soda, reaching for the crispy pepper chips. Awesome, only the Lost Tower had such authentic Earth food.
She was numb to the news of “Xu Yue being the Demon King”. It didn’t matter—Paradise, heroes, Demon Kings—they were all their own people, so she could just take it one step at a time.
As long as that Mad Monk wasn’t staring at her side, her psychological pressure in Paradise was almost zero.
Poor Miss Lynn was still trying to digest this fact.
“That is to say…” Witch Lynn summarized in despair, “The creators of the previous three worlds were all from Earth, and for some reason, they became Demon Kings. Now it’s Xu Yue’s turn, and the system has issued a mainline quest to kill him. Is that it?”
“And now the Temple of Life is already on their trail, so that guy doesn’t dare to contact home at all, rushing towards those lunatic headquarters.”
“Pretty much.” Anakin crunched on the chips.
Wow, that’s really thrilling when you put it like that.
“How did the Players react?” Lynn took several deep breaths.
Anakin swallowed her chips, her expression becoming serious.
“Hot Ash has doubts.” She said quickly, “With the elite group incident, both Dorothy and Hot Ash felt that the game was getting weirder. They plan to contact Mentor to discuss this matter.”
“But it’s hard to control ordinary Players. Once they see that wishes can be fulfilled, they get excited. If it weren’t for a few strong leaders, morale would disperse.”
“This can’t go on.” Lynn sat back in her chair, worried. “If the Players become more aggressive, they definitely won’t accept leaders being cautious at this time… You need to be more careful. If anything goes wrong, come to Paradise immediately.”
“Thanks, Lin Jie.”
Anakin happily agreed, then remembered something. “Oh, you have a way to contact Mr. Xu, right? I have a very important matter.”
“Eugene and Golden Sword are heading to Ice Rock City. Tell them to be very careful.”
Lynn’s expression that had just relaxed suddenly returned to agony.
“…Okay.”
The author has something to say:
Furry, furry~
Fischer: They must be acting.
Fischer: Look, what a great performance!
Painter: (Doesn’t want to talk to this Eternal Church’s lifelong single)
The award ceremony was broadcast live on television and online platforms. The moment the awards were announced, it wasn’t just Ran Lin and Gu Jie who were happy with Lu Yiyao’s win.
At Fan Li’s house in Xicheng, Lu Yimeng excitedly spilled her popcorn and immediately called her mother, who hadn’t returned from the company yet, to announce the good news.
In Dongcheng, Lu Guoming, who rarely came home early, was sitting on the sofa in the living room drinking tea, showing a trace of satisfaction while watching the television that he hardly turned on more than a few times a year.
On Weibo, fans of “God Lu” were overcome with emotion. Despite having been nominated twice at international A-list film festivals and returning empty-handed, this time, although it was just a domestic celebration, he had finally won the Best Actor award and could bring home the trophy.
Long after sitting down, Ran Lin still felt the warmth of his lover’s body.
Lu Yiyao elegantly ascended the stage, received the trophy from the presenter, and stood alone at the center of the vast stage as the presenters exited, leaving only the Best Actor.
Lu Yiyao adjusted the height of the microphone, then slowly raised his head, his smile fading to a calm and solemn demeanor. “I always wondered, while watching others receive awards, why everyone just thanks others. Can’t there be something fresh? But as I adjusted the microphone just now, I understood. There’s nothing new because, at this moment, only gratitude fills your mind…”
“…Thank you to the director for trusting me and choosing me for this role; thank you to the entire crew for your hard work, which made <Split Moon> possible and allowed me to bask in its glory…”
“…I also want to thank my friend. When I first joined the crew, I couldn’t find my bearings and called a friend who gave me a lot of insights…”
“Thank you.”
When Lu Yiyao said these final words, his gaze was fixed forward, seemingly giving a firm conclusion to his acceptance speech.
But Ran Lin knew, those words were meant for him.
That night they video chatted, they talked a lot about each other’s performances, not only Lu Yiyao’s <Split Moon> but also his <Chronicles of Winter>, as both were nearly entering their respective filming crews at the same time, both in the initial stage of finding their footing.
But what exactly had he offered Lu Yiyao that night in terms of constructive advice?
Ran Lin really couldn’t remember.
The only thing he remembered was that sentence—“My spirit is with you. If you miss me, just look up into the sky.”
……
The night after the award ceremony, Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao celebrated in the most primal way. The next morning, while Lu Yiyao energetically went to the company, Ran Lin continued to sleep off his aches and pains.
Two days later, Ran Lin boarded a plane with his luggage, heading to Xi’an to shoot <Youth of Wuling>.
Lu Yiyao really wanted to go and see for himself, but he was too tied up with work and had to send Yao Hong instead. Yao Hong’s main responsibility was to look after Ran Lin, while the producer was fully responsible for the shooting itself and would report directly to Lu Yiyao. This seasoned producer, brought in by Yao Hong and a friend for many years, was reliable in both his professionalism and character.
Not long after Ran Lin joined the crew, Lu Yiyao ran into Huo Yuntao at a cocktail party.
It was a charity cocktail party organized by a group closely related to the entertainment industry, attracting many industry leaders to support the event. Lu Yiyao, needing to familiarize himself with the circle and establish his transition from artist to business owner, attended to meet more people and assert his new role.
However, Rome wasn’t built in a day, especially since Lu Yiyao had recently been in the spotlight at the film festival, inevitably leading to some light-hearted ribbing. As soon as he appeared, someone familiar greeted him with, “Isn’t this Emperor Lu?”
The teasing wasn’t malicious, but it lacked a certain respect. Nonetheless, Lu Yiyao responded graciously, “President Sun.”
This President Sun’s company was small, without investments in any major productions, and had no prior collaboration with Lu Yiyao. They were merely acquaintances in the industry, looking to make light conversation at the dull event.
But unexpectedly, Lu Yiyao’s maturity and ease, despite being under thirty, somewhat embarrassed the other man, who then turned serious and said, “I heard your company’s first project has already started shooting?”
“Yes,” Lu Yiyao replied with a smile. “With so many mouths to feed at the company, we had to start shooting or drink the northwest wind*.”
*(喝西北风) Idiom referring to experiencing poverty or going through tough times without basic necessities. It suggests that if someone doesn’t work hard, manage their affairs well, or if a situation turns bad, they might end up with nothing to eat or no means to support themselves—essentially left with nothing but the northwest wind to ‘drink’.
“President Lu, you’re being modest,” President Sun changed his address. “Everyone knows that’s a big project for your company.”
“Only if it’s done with ease is it considered a big project. If it requires staking everything, then it’s a gamble.” Lu Yiyao sighed theatrically. “Maybe next year at this charity event, President Sun, you won’t find me.”
President Sun was amused by the joke but was internally surprised.
An artist turned businessman maintaining such poise and demeanor was likable but not unexpected. Yet, Lu Yiyao didn’t show even a hint of his former artist self; instead, he exuded the aura of a peer through and through, with every word and action suggesting seasoned business acumen. He knew Lu Yiyao as a former artist, or else he would have definitely mistaken him for a businessman through and through.
While President Sun was preoccupied with his thoughts, Lu Yiyao was unsettled.
He realized that in the moment of interacting with President Sun, he had been channeling his father’s spirit. His mannerisms and speech were highly reminiscent of Lu Guoming, as he remembered him.
Lu Yiyao didn’t often see his father in business mode, but the few times he did left a lasting impression. He vividly remembered his determination not to become a second Lu Guoming, leading him to forgo business school and secretly apply to study drama in defiance of his father.
Yet, after all the twists and turns, he found himself back at the starting point.
But Lu Yiyao had no regrets about these detours. Because life isn’t just about the outcome; it’s about the journey. If he had chosen business from the start, he wouldn’t have experienced all that followed: falling in love with Ran Lin, meeting friends like Xia Xinran, Gu Jie, and Tang Xiaoyu, and even solidifying his direction in life as he had now… If there was anything consistent in both paths, it would probably only be Huo Yuntao.
This person appeared too early, long before he even started to consider his life’s path, so whether he went into business or acting, it didn’t affect his relationship with this person. Thinking about it carefully, it really is a bad influence and a fateful bond between friends…
“Hello, do you really not see me or just don’t want to greet me?”
A familiar voice pulled Lu Yiyao back from his thoughts, and then he was stunned.
“Why are you here?” Lu Yiyao wondered if his mind contained a magic lamp like Aladdin’s, so as soon as he reminisced, the person would appear in real life.
Huo Yuntao, dressed in a thin suit and holding a wine glass, looked at his old friend with a sad face. “What’s with that expression? Are you that unhappy to see me?”
“It’s not about whether I want to see you or not; it’s just scientifically implausible for you to be here,” Lu Yiyao retorted with good reason.
“How is it implausible? The organizers have business dealings with my family… Wait.” Huo Yuntao finally realized the problem. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter if I want to see you or not? Do you want to or not?”
“I do, I’ve been dying to see you.” Lu Yiyao laughed, his earlier composure nowhere to be found, now just a childlike figure bantering with his buddy. However, he hadn’t forgotten that his friend was now a married man and looked around. “Where’s Panxi?”
“She doesn’t like socializing,” Huo Yuntao explained.
Lu Yiyao looked at his friend somewhat sentimentally. “You don’t like it either.”
“What can I do? It’s my family’s business. If I don’t carry it, who will? It’s all fate.”
Lu Yiyao clinked his glass with him. “Wishing you wealth and prosperity.”
Huo Yuntao glanced at him irritably before saying, “Wishing you consecutive Best Actor wins.”
Lu Yiyao felt a teasing itch. “Can’t your blessing be a little more heartfelt?”
Huo Yuntao was deliberately teasing, now enjoying making his friend squirm, but after his fun, he finally got serious. “Has <Youth of Wuling> started shooting?”
By this time, the two had moved to a corner where they could chat casually without attracting attention.
“Yes,” Lu Yiyao said. “It started last week.”
Huo Yuntao nodded. “How is it? Will it make a loss?”
Lu Yiyao: “……”
Only a buddy like him could ask this; with anyone else, it might end a friendship.
But precisely because it was Huo Yuntao, Lu Yiyao knew he was genuinely worried about him losing everything.
Lu Yiyao: “Hard to say. It depends on whether the final production meets expectations.”
Huo Yuntao: “And if it does?”
Lu Yiyao: “Then it won’t make a loss, and the ratings will definitely explode.”
Huo Yuntao: “And if it doesn’t meet expectations?”
Lu Yiyao: “Then the wife might not be kept.”
Huo Yuntao: “It’s not that bad, right?”
Lu Yiyao: “To support me, Ran Lin acted this time without any remuneration.”
Huo Yuntao: “If I were him, I’d kick you out by now…”
Lu Yiyao smirked.
After hearing Ran Lin wanted to buy a villa and be his neighbor, he really thought about increasing his remuneration. But when it came time to talk money, Ran Lin refused even the original pay, and his reasoning was solid—considering his remuneration as an investment in the project, if it lost, he’d chalk it up to bad luck, but if it earned, he wanted a higher share of the profits.
Of course, Ran Lin wasn’t really after high risk, high returns; even someone as slow as Lu Yiyao knew this was his way of supporting the new businessman in his life.
If <National First Love Drift Story> opened up Ran Lin’s fame, <Sword of Fallen Blossom> brought him his first wave of popularity. Then <Chronicles of Winter> and <Dyeing Fire> were helping him ride a new wave of popularity, elevating his status and raising his value dramatically.
With Ran Lin’s current momentum, returning to TV dramas meant his remuneration would be much higher than during <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms>, and even then, his pay for <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms> had already doubled from <Sword of Fallen Blossoms>. Recently, Yao Hong had set Ran Lin’s TV drama remuneration to 400,000–450,000 per episode. Of course, this quote included some leeway, but even if the producers intended to negotiate down, 300,000–350,000 per episode was the baseline. Whether Ran Lin’s remuneration rose or fell in the future would depend on his career trajectory, but at this stage, that was the number.
<Youth of Wuling> was planned for 46 episodes, and if they hadn’t chosen Ran Lin but another actor of the same popularity, the over ten million in remuneration would be a normal expense. But now, because it was Ran Lin, that money was effectively saved.
They say talking about money hurts relationships.
But Lu Yiyao felt that real mutual trust in a relationship isn’t afraid of discussing money. Naturally, he turned to Ran Lin to be the male lead in his heavily invested drama, confident in Ran Lin even before the latter’s popularity surge. Conversely, Ran Lin, believing in his vision and capability, offered to act for free, essentially sharing the risk with him.
Would Ran Lin’s participation guarantee the success of the drama? Lu Yiyao couldn’t be sure.
Was every project Lu Yiyao invested in destined to be successful? Ran Lin probably couldn’t say for sure either.
But that was their love—trusting each other, striving together, sharing the losses, and enjoying the gains.
“Can you not act like ‘the luckiest guy in the world’ every time we talk about your significant other?” Huo Yuntao had had enough. He could bear being fed dog food when they were unmarried, but after marriage, this constant show of affection was unbearable!
“I know you’re married, and happily so. No need to keep flashing your wedding ring in my face.” Lu Yiyao irritably swatted away his friend’s hand so as not to be blinded by the diamond. “Besides, what’s a man doing wearing a diamond ring? Platinum is enough.”
“That’s sexist,” Huo Yuntao retorted, turning the ring on his ring finger, convinced the diamond ring he chose for himself was quite appealing.
In fact, Huo Yuntao’s ring was quite nice. Though it was a diamond ring, it wasn’t overly large. The diamond was small and elegant, set in the groove of a platinum band, slightly flat on the surface, giving a very gentlemanly and elegant look.
But to Lu Yiyao, this was as provocative as bragging about shampoo in front of a monk.
Actually, Huo Yuntao wasn’t unjustly accused, as he was indeed flaunting deliberately. Seeing his friend’s head in the clouds whenever Ran Lin was mentioned, he felt the need to bring him back to earth occasionally. “When do you plan to tell your family about your relationship?”
Lu Yiyao was daydreaming about the beautiful future when he and Ran Lin would wear matching rings when suddenly his friend brought him back to reality. After a pause, he replied, “I’ll tell them next week.”
Huo Yuntao was startled. His intention was to make his friend not be blinded by happiness in front of him, but he hadn’t expected him to act so impulsively. “There’s no need to rush; you need to plan this carefully. You can’t just rush into battle because I mentioned it.”
Lu Yiyao realized his friend had some misunderstandings about his plan to come out. “You think I decided just now?”
Huo Yuntao frowned. “Isn’t it?”
Lu Yiyao: “Am I someone who acts impulsively?”
Huo Yuntao spoke honestly. “You aren’t usually, but when it comes to matters involving Ran Lin, you’ve always been bold.”
“…” Lu Yiyao found himself at a loss for words. Whether it was realizing his feelings for Ran Lin, coming to terms with his own identity, or even his confession, it seemed just as Huo Yuntao said: once he decided, he acted decisively. Looking back, he wanted to give himself a pat on the back for his boldness.
Unable to refute, he skipped the topic and went straight to the point. “Next week is my lunar birthday. I had promised my mom and sister to go home, so…”
“So you’ve also been considering coming out during this occasion?” Huo Yuntao began to understand his friend’s line of thought.
Lu Yiyao nodded. “The birthday atmosphere is just right.”
Huo Yuntao imagined the scene and felt his friend’s twenty-eighth birthday might be a disaster. “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider? A thunderbolt from the blue amidst all the happiness might be too much of an emotional gap, making it even harder to accept.”
Lu Yiyao shook his head, obviously having thought it through. “There’s never a perfect time for these things. If I wait for everyone to be in a bad mood, the gap won’t be as big, but that would just add to the gloom.”
“That’s true,” Huo Yuntao admitted, not wanting to say more since his friend had considered it thoroughly. But then he thought of something else. “Isn’t Ran Lin going with you? After all, this involves both of you.”
Lu Yiyao looked down at his crystal-clear wine glass for a long while before responding, “I want to make sure everything at home is settled before I bring him over.”
Huo Yuntao pursed his lips. He understood his friend’s logic but couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.
After a while, he finally spoke up to advise. “Facing it together as a couple can make you stronger than just 1 + 1 > 2.”
Lu Yiyao slowly looked up, his eyes calm but determined. “I want him to face only sunny days.”
Huo Yuntao watched his friend for a long time, then suddenly pulled out his phone and held it to his face. “Hello, police? There’s a guy here crazy in love throwing dog food around. Are you going to do something about it or not—”
……
Ran Lin had been shooting for over a week now.
Even disregarding his relationship with Lu Yiyao and objectively evaluating, this was one of the most cohesive TV drama crews Ran Lin had been part of. Similar to <Dyeing Fire>, <Youth of Wuling> didn’t have many stakeholders and interest groups involved. The entire crew was controlled by Lu Yiyao, led by the producer, and decided by the director, creating a unified team rather than a collection of various parties. This kind of team felt more like a collective, with everyone working towards a common goal.
Moreover, <Youth of Wuling> was less worrisome in terms of actors compared to <Dyeing Fire>. Besides Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu, the rest of the actors were carefully selected, prioritizing professional skill and reputation over popularity. Furthermore, as a modern urban drama, <Youth of Wuling> inherently had lower acting demands than <Dyeing Fire>. Thanks to the director’s casting control, many actors could perform naturally, adding a fresh and authentic feel.
All these factors led to a stable shooting progress, allowing the director more time to refine scenes and actors to spark more intense performances, making the acting more thrilling and satisfying.
This particular day was about shooting a scene where Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu, playing best friends, were wandering around the Bell and Drum Tower Square, reflecting on their perplexing lives, when they happened upon a pickpocket targeting a bystander. Acting heroically, they intervened, but their good deed unexpectedly resulted in retaliation from the pickpocket’s gang. However, these two weren’t easy targets and quickly called for backup, turning a simple act of bravery into a gang fight. Though the police intervened as soon as it started, the incident still disrupted public order, landing both the friends and the thieves in jail. Fortunately, the initial victim stood up to testify, clearing their names, albeit they still received a stern lecture from the police.
For shooting in such busy, open areas, the crew usually aimed for quick, decisive action. As actors, they would get ready and travel to the location, starting the shoot promptly upon arrival.
Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu were the leads, while the pickpocket and the victim were played by extras. From makeup to setting off, they were separate from these actors until they arrived on set, where they saw a group already gathered, listening to the assistant director’s instructions.
“Are you ready?” the already present director asked them.
It was a weekday morning around ten o’clock. The shops around the square were all open, though it wasn’t yet the peak of customer traffic, creating a bustling yet orderly scene perfect for filming.
Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu knew the director wanted to make quick work of it, so they nodded in unison.
The director was pleased and said, “Let’s walk through the entire thing first to familiarize yourselves with the positions and paths.”
In the scene, Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu needed to chase the pickpocket, so the running paths and directions were important.
Without hesitation, Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu positioned themselves in front of the camera and started their “casual stroll.”
The director watched from behind the monitor, occasionally giving directions.
Once they had “strolled” enough, the director had the assistant notify the assistant director to bring over the “pickpocket” and the “victim” for the heroic intervention part of the scene. The “beating” and “retaliation” were to be shot later.
Ran Lin watched as the assistant director brought over three people. Two wore baseball caps, obscuring their faces, but with backpacks and dressed in casual sportswear, they looked like young tourists; the other was in a jacket, unremarkable and lost in the crowd, but with eyes darting around, vividly embodying the term “shifty-eyed”.
The trio stopped a few meters away from them, where the assistant director briefed them. Strangely enough, the “pickpocket” looked up attentively, while the two “tourists” kept their heads down, hiding their faces under the brim of their caps from Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu’s view.
Tang Xiaoyu didn’t notice anything amiss, busy rehearsing his lines and actions in his mind.
But the more Ran Lin watched, the more suspicious he became—no, extremely suspicious…
Without warning, Ran Lin briskly approached them, bent down, and looked up under the caps, indeed finding a pair of all-too-familiar eyes beneath!
“Damn—” Gu Jie was the first to react, snatching off his baseball cap. “You recognized us just like that?!”
Xia Xinran rolled his eyes and reluctantly looked up but didn’t address Ran Lin, first glaring at Gu Jie. “I told you your walk is distinctive!”
Ran Lin laughed heartily, quickly coming to Gu Jie’s defense. “Don’t blame others. I recognized you two by your figures as soon as you came over!”
Finally, Xia Xinran turned to Ran Lin and hugged him. “So, you also really do keep us in your heart—”
Gu Jie frowned. What’s with the “also”? But before he could dwell on it, he locked eyes with the smiling Ran Lin across Xia Xinran’s back and promptly said, “We’re here to visit the set!”
“And make a friendly cameo?” Tang Xiaoyu walked over, having grasped the situation, delighted like Ran Lin.
“Since we’re here, of course we should make a cameo,” Xia Xinran released Ran Lin, chuckling. “It’s not easy to owe Teacher Lu a favor; gotta seize the opportunity!”
“So it was Lu Yiyao who invited you?” Tang Xiaoyu guessed, following Xia Xinran’s logic.
But was immediately half-denied by Beauty Xia. “We just wanted to visit the set, and it happened that Teacher Lu wanted us to make a cameo, so it was a perfect match!”
Ran Lin looked towards Gu Jie.
The latter nodded. “Yep.”
Ran Lin grinned. If Gu Jie confirmed it, then it must be true.
Xia Xinran frowned. “Why do you need his confirmation after I’ve said it…”
Because you don’t seem reliable. The assistant director, who had witnessed the whole scene, couldn’t help but chuckle internally, yet also noticed these people truly had a strong bond. But with limited time, he had to be the party pooper. “Shall we run through the scene now?”
Reminded by the assistant director, everyone immediately became professional, ready to work.
Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu moved to sit on some nearby steps, pretending to be bored and looking at the sky, while Xia Xinran and Gu Jie positioned themselves in front of the camera, donning their baseball caps and exuding youthful vibes. The pickpocket waited not far behind them, ready to strike.
At the clap of the slate, Gu Jie and Xia Xinran walked shoulder to shoulder, Xia Xinran opening a map on his phone, discussing the surroundings with Gu Jie, stopping now and then as if they were pure and innocent tourists visiting for the first time.
The pickpocket, following closely behind, approached the two. As they huddled over the map, he opened Xia Xinran’s backpack and swiftly swiped a wallet…
“Hey—”
With a shout for justice, Ran Lin leaped into action!
The thief turned to run, and Ran Lin chased after him like a whirlwind, while Tang Xiaoyu rushed to the bemused Xia Xinran and Gu Jie, who hadn’t yet realized what was happening.
“Your wallet!” Tang Xiaoyu, too rushed to be eloquent, pointed in the direction Ran Lin was chasing.
Xia Xinran blinked, still bewildered.
Gu Jie looked back, saw Xia Xinran’s opened backpack, and instantly understood, slapping Xia Xinran on the head. “Your wallet—”
Xia Xinran finally snapped out of it. “Then why hit me! Chase the thief!”
Such was their way; the fact they managed to travel safely at all was a miracle. Tang Xiaoyu, no longer caring to explain, chased after Ran Lin!
Gu Jie and Xia Xinran promptly followed, sprinting away!
As everyone exited the frame, the take was successfully completed.
As soon as “cut” was heard, Xia Xinran immediately retaliated by slapping Gu Jie’s head.
Tang Xiaoyu quickly intervened. “Don’t do that. It’s part of acting.”
Xia Xinran looked aggrieved. “There was no such action in the script. It was his improvisation!”
Gu Jie insisted, “That’s the character’s personality. The action makes it closer to the character’s inner world.”
Xia Xinran was speechless. “You’re just making a cameo! What inner world?”
Gu Jie shrugged. “The script doesn’t write it, but you can explore it yourself, that’s an actor’s self-cultivation.”
“……” Tang Xiaoyu looked at Ran Lin beside him and suddenly understood why he was closer to these two than himself. He didn’t try to mediate because this illogical bickering wasn’t about reason but enjoyment.
‘Different strokes for different folks*’, Tang Xiaoyu thought; friendship indeed comes in all sorts and shapes.
*One kind of rice provides for one hundred kinds of people (一样米养百样人) Idiom referring to everybody thinks and acts a little differently even when we’re all in the same environment.
Xia Xinran and Gu Jie were only there for a day’s cameo, so after the morning’s outdoor shooting, they immediately moved to the police station’s interior set for the afternoon.
Ran Lin hadn’t seen Xia Xinran act before, let alone act with him. Even the morning’s chase scene didn’t require much acting from Xia Xinran and Gu Jie; being startled, then following in pursuit was the extent of it, with the focus still on Ran Lin and the thief.
But the afternoon’s “victim coming to the police station to testify” scene required real acting.
As the slate closed, Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu stood dejectedly on one side, Gu Jie waiting as an observer rather than a victim, while Xia Xinran, having explained the situation to the police, came over to them. His eyes lifted, filled with remorse, so convincing that Ran Lin nearly softened, ready to say “it’s okay” before Xia Xinran even spoke.
“I’m sorry…” Xia Xinran’s usual liveliness was gone, his face reflecting a complex mix of annoyance, shame, relief at having apologized, and apprehension for what was to come.
Ran Lin was surprised by Xia Xinran’s nuanced portrayal of emotions, instantly getting into character. “It’s okay.”
“Next time, don’t put your wallet in the backpack. Keep it close to your body,” Tang Xiaoyu also reminded, but he had to murmur under his breath due to the presence of the police officer.
“Alright, you can go now.” The police officer finally stood up, his tone earnest. “Remember, it’s good to act bravely for a just cause, but violence should not be met with violence.”
“Cut—”
With that, their cameo appearance was wrapped up.
Xia Xinran couldn’t wait to run to the monitor to see how well he performed.
Ran Lin was also curious and followed, only to find Xia Xinran standing beside the monitor, staring blankly at the director.
As Ran Lin approached, he realized that Xia Xinran wasn’t fixated on the director but rather on the person sitting next to the director, who was also intently looking at the monitor, casually dressed and wearing a fisherman’s hat.
“Teacher Lu?!” Xia Xinran finally found his voice.
Having already experienced many surprises that day, Ran Lin was relatively calm by this point. However, while his face remained composed, his heart was blooming with joy, as if surrounded by fragrant flowers and buzzing bees collecting nectar.
Lu Yiyao took off his hat and looked up graciously.
Xia Xinran slapped his shoulder. “You kept it well hidden!” Realizing the change in status, he immediately regretted his familiarity, especially in front of so many people. It was important to preserve Boss Lu’s dignity as a boss, so his hand quickly retreated, pretending the patting and playing were not his doing.
Lu Yiyao, seeing through his thoughts, chuckled softly and then slowly turned his gaze to Ran Lin.
Ran Lin’s heart blossomed like a garden, politely addressing him, “Boss Lu…”
It was the first time Lu Yiyao heard Ran Lin call him that, unexpectedly pleasant, making him feel almost light-headed.
“Teacher Lu, I knew it was you the moment you walked in, but I didn’t blow your cover. Considerate, right?” Gu Jie’s voice reached them before he even approached.
Just like that, any sense of floating or charm dissipated, crashing Lu Yiyao back to reality.
……
Though Lu Yiyao was resolute and even confident when discussing coming out with Huo Yuntao, the contemplation alone in his somewhat empty room back at the villa brought an inevitable nervousness. Rehearsing and foreseeing the possible outcomes, he had to admit, there was trepidation.
This apprehension was different from when he defied his parents to choose drama and performance. That was just a rebellion on the path of growth, meant to irk his father intentionally. The more infuriated Lu Guoming got, the more satisfying it felt to him.
But this time was different.
Choosing to spend the rest of his life with Ran Lin, or, more broadly, choosing to be with a man, was like taking a sharp turn in the second half of his life. It meant dismantling and reassembling all his parents’ expectations and plans for his marriage and life. But “reassembling” wasn’t the hardest part; the challenge was getting his parents to accept this “dismantling”.
For him, the hardest thing to face was never his parents’ “anger” but their “sorrow”. So, whenever he imagined his parents’ disappointment and sadness, it suffocated him.
People tend to avoid or delay confronting foreseen difficulties, but Lu Yiyao didn’t. He would still celebrate his birthday and come out on that day as planned. However, to ease his mind, he decided to bring forward the set visit, including Gu Jie and Xia Xinran’s cameo, originally scheduled for next month—if hard times awaited him post-coming out, he wanted to enjoy some happy memories first for sustenance during the tough times ahead.
But these arrangements were unrelated to Ran Lin and his visiting friends that day.
So, when the five of them gathered for dinner that evening, Gu Jie asked him why he came without notice. He replied, “To surprise you.”
“It’s to surprise Ran Lin, right?” Xia Xinran teased. “You made me and Gu Jie surprise him first, then you came in for a follow-up, layering the joy… Clever. Becoming a boss really changes a person.”
“Do you regret not signing with my company?” Lu Yiyao joked.
“Thank goodness I didn’t.” Xia Xinran shuddered at the thought. “You’re almost raising Ran Lin to the heavens.”
“Boss Lu, how about considering me?” Tang Xiaoyu volunteered earnestly. “My contract expires the year after next!”
Gu Jie nearly choked on his tea, exasperatedly saying, “You can bring that up after two years!”
Tang Xiaoyu shrugged. “Just getting a head start. I think this company has a bright future; better book my spot early.”
“I have to admit that,” Xia Xinran rarely gave such positive feedback, “You can tell a lot of money has been poured into this drama.”
Lu Yiyao was amused, accepting all the teasing with a smile.
He relished these light-hearted gatherings, occasionally looking at Ran Lin, feeling even more grounded.
Ran Lin felt there was something unusual about Lu Yiyao today. A surprise visit was definitely delightful, but there seemed to be something else flickering in his lover’s eyes. Ran Lin couldn’t discern what it was and wasn’t even sure if it was real or just his sixth sense ringing false alarms.
Shaking his head, Ran Lin decided not to dwell on it and to simply ask later when they were alone.
With this in mind, he recalled what Xia Xinran had mentioned on the way to the restaurant that it was a rare trip to the area not for work, so he and Gu Jie planned to be proper tourists the next day before flying back to Beijing.
Ran Lin was curious about what constituted a “proper tourist” for them. “So, what’s your plan for tomorrow?”
Xia Xinran, who had been inquiring about the drama crew’s logistics and shooting plans from Tang Xiaoyu, wanted to understand just how extravagant Teacher Lu was.
Thus, Gu Jie responded to the question. “In the morning, eat roujiamo with liangpi, lamb stew with bread for lunch followed by a steamer of soup dumplings. Dinner is undecided, tossing between biangbiang noodles and saozi noodles, but I also want to try the meatball hulu soup. For late-night snacks, we’ll stroll around and maybe buy some persimmon cakes…”
Ran Lin: “…Is there any activity outside of dining? Just eating all day?”
“There won’t be time.” Ran Lin brutally cut off his friend. “I personally think you guys will be ready for late-night snacks and persimmon cakes after coming back from Huaqing Pool…”
Ghost Mansion, Eastern Courtyard, the Heavenly Realm.
With its waterside pavilions, terraces, towers, and fragrant flowers, the architecture was stunningly beautiful, as if a pleasant breeze graced the face. If not for the swirling dark aura and the oppressive low clouds, Xu Wang might have mistaken it for a dwelling of immortals.
The Starving Ghost had said this place was rich in ghost energy. Xu Wang couldn’t judge for himself but was a bit curious, so he asked the Starving Ghost vaguely, “How does it feel?”
At this moment, they were following the Heavenly Realm’s steward to meet the boss.
The Starving Ghost sneakily glanced at the steward walking ahead, ensuring there was no scolding for whispering, then cautiously revealed a smile, silly yet blissful. “Good.”
Xu Wang inexplicably felt better too. “Still hungry?”
“The hunger is always there. That’s how I died, so I can’t change that. But…” The Starving Ghost patted his belly. “After absorbing enough ghost energy, it doesn’t make noise anymore. Hear that?”
Xu Wang chuckled. “If it doesn’t make noise, how can I hear it?”
The Starving Ghost actually thought about it for a while before nodding. “Right.”
Xu Wang had never seen anyone this naïve. Even the usually silent Wu Sheng couldn’t help but smile.
However, judging from the Starving Ghost’s stomach no longer rumbling, the Ghost Spring releasing ghost energy must be here, but its exact location remained unknown.
As Xu Wang pondered, they arrived at the Wutian Pavilion.
This three-story building was located at the deepest and highest point of the Eastern Courtyard.
The Heavenly Realm’s steward asked them to wait outside and went in to report.
After the steward entered the pavilion, Xu Wang shared his thoughts with Wu Sheng and the Starving Ghost. “This boss is funny, dividing his territory into the Underworld, Human Realm, and Heavenly Realm, but the place he lives in is called the Wutian Pavilion*.”
*Clarity: [Wu] (无) means nothing, none, be without + [tian] (天) means sky, heaven. So combined, it’s on the line of “No Heaven”, which is a bit ironic considering he resides in the Heavenly Realm.
Wu Sheng, expecting a significant tactical discussion, was speechless and turned Xu Wang’s head back towards the pavilion. “Instead of thinking about these nonsensical things, better focus your thoughts on ‘Where is the Ghost Spring*.'”
*He says this in English.
Xu Wang: “……”
Although he knew his advisor was trying to avoid revealing their mission and chose a mix of Chinese and English, it still felt like taking unfair advantage, or rather, taking advantage of ghosts!
Unsurprisingly, the Starving Ghost was confused. “What are you talking about?”
Before Xu Wang could fabricate a lie, Wu Sheng unexpectedly provided an explanation first. “Local dialect.”
The Starving Ghost grew more curious. “Then what did you just say? Instead of thinking about these nonsensical things, better focus your thoughts on?”
Wu Sheng said, “Me.”
Starving Ghost, “Huh?”
Wu Sheng: “Better focus your thoughts on me.”
Starving Ghost: “A single word takes that long to say?”
Wu Sheng: “Yes.”
Xu Wang: “……”
Not wanting to deal with Wu Sheng’s creative responses, Captain Xu Wang silently looked at the dark clouds, which slowly transformed into the faces of Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin.
He wondered how his two companions were doing now…
Ghost Mansion, Eastern Courtyard, the Underworld, residence of the Dream Ghost.
Inside the house, a thin man with disheveled hair curled up on the bed, shivering. His eyes were tightly closed, muttering incoherently, and his pillow was soaked with sweat and tears.
Despite his obvious suffering, he refused to wake up, as if imprisoned on the bed, eternally trapped in a nightmare.
Outside the window, two figures observed in secret.
The trembling ghost was more pitiful than frightening, but a chilling sensation seeped through the window crack, penetrating their clothes and pores, invoking a deep, instinctual fear.
Kuang Jinxin: “Qian Ge, don’t be afraid.”
Qian Ai: “I’m not scared.”
Kuang Jinxin: “You’re stepping on my foot, and your foot keeps trembling on mine.”
Qian Ai: “……”
Kuang Jinxin: “When I was little, I always thought there were ghosts. I was scared every night. My grandma told me that humans are three parts afraid of ghosts, but ghosts are seven parts afraid of humans. It’s more scared of you than you are of it.”
Qian Ai: “My grandma told me ghosts eat disobedient children.”
Kuang Jinxin: “……”
Qian Ai: “If you want to laugh, just laugh. Don’t hold it in.”
Whether the grandchild is as dear as the grandma, it was hard to say.
Suddenly, a faint light flashed beneath the Dream Ghost!
Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin tensed, watching intently.
The light flickered again, partly obscured by the Dream Ghost’s body, with only a glimpse visible, not very clear.
It was undoubtedly the badge.
But to get it, they would have to lift the Dream Ghost.
The two companions instinctively clenched their fists, mentally urging the Dream Ghost to turn over and reveal the light.
Unfortunately, the Dream Ghost didn’t cooperate.
They waited for a long time, but the Dream Ghost remained curled up in the same spot, as if the bed only had that small area for him to use. Despite ample space around, he showed no intention of changing positions or moving.
“If it comes to it, we’ll have to wake him up,” Qian Ai said. “Best if he gets off the bed, then your severed hand can go straight for the badge.”
Humans can’t go on the Dream Ghost’s bed, but a severed hand should be okay.
Kuang Jinxin thought the same. “Qian Ge, I’ll distract the Dream Ghost, then I’ll let the severed hand grab the badge from the bed. You’ll cover me from a hiding spot, and if something goes wrong, you’ll back me up.”
“Come on, I can’t let you go in front.” Qian Ai, though afraid, would never let a kid take his place. He’d rather fight the ghost himself. “I’ll lure the Dream Ghost away from the bed. Once he leaves, you take charge of the severed hand getting the badge.”
Determined, Qian Ai’s gaze firmed up.
“Remember, only the severed hand can go.” Qian Ai, already at the door, turned back to emphasize with lip movements. “You absolutely must not get on his bed.”
“Got it.” Kuang Jinxin, standing at a hidden spot by the window, nodded solemnly. “Be careful too, Qian Ge.”
In front of the Wutian Pavilion, the Heavenly Realm.
The steward returned, but the message he brought was unexpected. “The boss isn’t here. I’ll take you to your temporary accommodation.”
Xu Wang and Wu Sheng had been strategizing all the way, brainstorming ways to first deceive the boss and then find an opportunity to search for the Ghost Spring. They hadn’t expected such a stroke of luck.
The steward led them to a separate courtyard not far from the Wutian Pavilion, where they were told to settle down for now. They were informed that once the boss returned, they would be taken to see him. Before leaving, the steward reiterated sternly that they were not to wander around.
The exact words were: “The Heavenly Realm is a vital area of the Eastern Courtyard. It’s not a place for you to roam. Stay put in your rooms.”
Such words were frustrating for both humans and ghosts. As soon as the steward left, the two men and a ghost were eager to explore.
However, Xu Wang and Wu Sheng’s eagerness had a clear goal—finding the Ghost Spring. The Starving Ghost’s enthusiasm was purely due to the excitement of the moment, following along with them.
Xu Wang caught a glimpse of the expectant look on the Starving Ghost’s face and felt a pang of guilt that he had been suppressing.
The Starving Ghost wanted to play with his two friends.
But his two friends were plotting how to destroy the Eastern Courtyard and obliterate all its ghosts, including him.
Taking a deep breath, Xu Wang stepped back inside, found a chair, and sat down. “Xiao Hungry, have you ever thought about leaving the Eastern Courtyard?”
The sudden shift from eager readiness to a serious conversation caught Wu Sheng’s attention, but he remained silent.
The Starving Ghost, drawn in by Xu Wang’s question, replied, “Leave the Eastern Courtyard? Why?”
Because staying would mean death!
Xu Wang clenched his teeth and took several deep breaths to keep his voice steady and natural. “I know you just entered the Heavenly Realm and are looking forward to a bright future. But think about it, what’s so good about the Eastern Courtyard? The steward agreed to let us into the Heavenly Realm because we’re supposed to fight for the boss. We might be obliterated tomorrow; it’s so dangerous.”
The Starving Ghost looked puzzled. “Then why did you guys fight so hard to get into the Heavenly Realm?”
This unexpectedly astute counter-question stumped Xu Wang.
“Of course, we have our reasons,” Wu Sheng said calmly. “But definitely not to fight for the boss.”
This was almost the truth, just not very specific.
Surprised by Wu Sheng’s honesty, Xu Wang realized his own prepared response was almost identical. Had he spoken two seconds later, those words would have come from his own mouth.
Not wanting to deceive the Starving Ghost—they both felt the same way.
The Starving Ghost paused, not in shock or surprise, but simply gazing at them thoughtfully.
After a while, he finally spoke, his voice low and serious. “I don’t want to leave the Eastern Courtyard.”
Now it was Xu Wang and Wu Sheng’s turn to be taken aback.
He didn’t question their purpose but returned to the previous topic.
Xu Wang understood that the Starving Ghost’s words effectively rejected the suggestion to “leave the Eastern Courtyard.”
“I know you just entered the Heavenly Realm and are looking forward to a bright future. But I’m not trying to discourage you; fighting for the boss is a one-way street to destruction.” Xu Wang tried to reason, never having been so earnest in persuading anyone. “You said you liked the Eastern Courtyard because it’s peaceful, but once you meet the boss, there will be no more peaceful days.”
The Starving Ghost crouched, hugging his belly and looking down, seemingly in thought or feeling wronged.
“It’s not about leaving the Eastern Courtyard for the Western Courtyard,” Xu Wang continued, thinking he was hesitating. “You can leave this mansion entirely. The outside world is vast, with lots of fun and interesting things and plenty of peaceful and comfortable places.”
“I came here from the outside.” The Starving Ghost stared at the ground, speaking faintly. “I died out there. The world is vast, but I was bullied wherever I drifted. I was hungrier and more miserable than when I was alive…”
“After arriving here, I finally stopped drifting and settled down.” He looked up at Wu Sheng and Xu Wang. “I consider this place my home.”
Even the usually eloquent Xu Wang and the quick-witted Wu Sheng were at a loss for words.
They could persuade him to leave danger, but how could they convince him to leave his home?
Their “good intentions” lacked a solid foundation from the start.
The Starving Ghost remained crouched, gazing at them. After a long, silent exchange, he suddenly asked, “What exactly are you looking for?”
Xu Wang and Wu Sheng were startled.
“You’ve been looking around all the way. I didn’t think much of it at first,” the Starving Ghost grumbled, though not really angry. “Now that you say you’re not here to fight for the boss, you must be looking for something, right?”
Xu Wang looked at Wu Sheng, who gave a slight nod.
“The Ghost Spring.” Xu Wang whispered, “We want to find the Ghost Spring.”
The Starving Ghost tilted his head in confusion. “Just follow the ghost energy.”
Xu Wang fell silent for a few seconds, then looked up. “We can’t smell the ghost energy.”
“You’re also not a ghost?” The Starving Ghost’s voice was very low, but his astonishment was evident.
“Also?” Wu Sheng noticed something amiss.
The Starving Ghost sighed, looking at him. “I know you’re not a ghost.” He turned to Xu Wang. “But you too? How is that possible? When they tested for ghost energy in the Underworld, you clearly had it.”
“Wait.” Xu Wang needed to organize his thoughts. “How do you know he isn’t?”
The Starving Ghost blinked. “When they tested for ghost energy, he had none. If it weren’t for me helping him, he would have been exposed.”
Xu Wang: “You helped him?!”
Wu Sheng: “You helped me?!”
Both speaking in unison, then looking at each other—
Wu Sheng: “I thought you used the [Ghost Behind]. Didn’t you say you’d handle it?”
Xu Wang: “I did say that, but before I could act, you passed. I thought you used some stationery.”
Wu Sheng: “……”
Xu Wang: “……”
Their misunderstandings formed a perfect circle, missing the correct answer. When would they ever be cured of this…
The manager of the Underworld was the Force Ghost, who lived in the Underground Pavilion, which was closest to the Human Realm in the entire Underworld. Living there for a long time makes one spirited and full of ghost energy.
“It’s said that he was over a hundred years old when he died. When he first arrived here, his soul was very weak. But after he became the manager and lived in the Underground Pavilion, his physical condition improved a lot compared to us lonely and wandering ghosts,” the Starving Ghost explained dutifully, like a tour guide, as they headed to the Underground Pavilion.
Xu Wang detected envy in his words and said, “Although you can’t live in the Underground Pavilion, you can live next to it and benefit from its ghost energy.”
The Starving Ghost sighed and shook his head. “All the good places are taken. It’s not my turn yet.”
This Starving Ghost already looked miserable, and with his additional sorrowful drooping head, he appeared even more pitiable.
Wu Sheng, who had been observing the Starving Ghost, finally expressed his doubt. “The way you pushed that Ghost Eater into the well earlier was quite skillful. With such abilities, why are you still bullied in the Underworld?”
The Starving Ghost stopped. He turned around and said blankly, “I did that to save you…” After blinking and seemingly understanding Wu Sheng’s question, he hastily added, “I-I have never fought with other ghosts.”
Wu Sheng: “……”
Xu Wang: “……”
Why so honest?!
As they talked, they arrived at the Underground Pavilion.
Entering, they saw a large pot filled with sand in the center of the room, behind which sat an old man with white hair. He wasn’t very tall, slightly hunched, with droopy eyelids almost covering his eyes and a face full of wrinkles representing worldly vicissitudes.
Before they could state their purpose, the Force Ghost patted the side of the pot and said succinctly, “Draw the ghost energy here.”
The assessment for entering the Human Realm from the Underworld didn’t involve fighting or weapons. The manager only looked at one thing—the level of ghost energy.
And that pot was used to measure the ghost energy.
Xu Wang swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling tense. He quickly turned to whisper to Wu Sheng, “What if our visa is rejected?”
Wu Sheng: “…Then we just won’t ‘go abroad’. Traveling domestically is also nice.”
Xu Wang, amused by his cooperation, felt his nervousness strangely dissipate. He took a deep breath and stepped forward first.
Instead of approaching the pot, he stopped two steps away, closed his eyes, and concentrated.
Suddenly, the spirit attached to his back, like a black snake, darted out and plunged straight into the pot of sand!
After a few seconds of silence…
The sand in the tank began to swirl, not stirred by the spirit but as if it had come to life, forming wave after wave, getting faster and faster!
“That’s enough.” The Force Ghost lifted his droopy eyelids, and under his long white brows, his gaze swept over Xu Wang. “Are you a Possessing Ghost?”
The Force Ghost, unlike the gatekeeper in the Western Courtyard, was very discerning. Just being scrutinized by him made Xu Wang feel guilty.
Everyone else was alone, but Xu Wang had a buy-one-get-one-free deal with his spirit. The Force Ghost’s guess that he was a “Possessing Ghost” was already giving him an easy pass.
But the problem was, Xu Wang and the Starving Ghost had confidently claimed he was a spirit attached to the back, and it would be hard to explain if he changed his story now.
“Ahem.” Xu Wang cleared his throat, trying to stay calm. “I’m not a traditional Possessing Ghost. I’m a spirit attached to the back.” He manipulated the shadow in the pot to come out and pointed to the spirit behind him. “This is me.”
It was the same old trick, but the Force Ghost didn’t seem convinced.
Xu Wang felt increasingly uneasy under his gaze.
After a long while, the Force Ghost waved his hand and sighed. “When you live as long as I have, you’ll understand. The body is just a shell. Whether it’s attractive or not, whether you have complete limbs and handsome features or are just a vague black shadow, it doesn’t really matter.”
“……” The Force Ghost seemed to have misunderstood that Xu Wang was ashamed of his shadowy form, which is why he chose a physical shell to hide behind.
But—
“Did you just mention complete limbs and handsome features?”
Thinking Xu Wang hadn’t heard clearly, the Force Ghost emphasized, “Handsome features.”
Xu Wang breathed a sigh of relief, pleased to hear it.
Wu Sheng, who had seen through everything: “……”
The Force Ghost swept his hand over the pot, smoothing the sand, then turned to Wu Sheng. “Your turn.”
Wu Sheng narrowed his eyes slightly, not moving.
In a brief moment, he had reviewed all his stationery in his mind, but none were suitable for supernatural purposes.
While his [Man Catching Vine] might be good for visual deception, it would definitely give him away in a test of ghost energy.
“What are you dawdling for?” The Force Ghost frowned impatiently. “If you want to go to the Human Realm, come here. If not, leave.”
Xu Wang turned and walked back, glancing at Wu Sheng—Leave it to me.
Wu Sheng had thought about asking Xu Wang to secretly help with the spirit attached to his back, but he felt it wouldn’t escape the Force Ghost’s eyes.
But now, he had no choice but to go forward.
He walked up, passing Xu Wang, and stopped two steps away, just like Xu Wang had.
He held his breath, focused, and the vines on his body slowly moved. The next moment, a vine extended and plunged into the sand!
The base of the vine remained wrapped around Wu Sheng, with only the last third quietly resting in the sand.
Wu Sheng and the vine both remained still.
The sand didn’t move either.
Everything was eerily still.
Finally, the sand began to flow, slower than when Xu Wang was tested, but a faint ghost aura could still be felt enveloping the pot.
Wu Sheng’s half-tensed heart relaxed a bit, looking at the Force Ghost with a hint of inquiry.
The Force Ghost waved his hand. “That’s enough. You barely passed. Any weaker, and you wouldn’t have made it.”
Wu Sheng breathed a sigh of relief, finally at ease.
“You there.” The Force Ghost looked past Wu Sheng’s retreating figure to the Starving Ghost. “Don’t just stand there like an idiot. Come here.”
“Me?” The Starving Ghost was stunned, quickly shaking his head. “I’m not going to the Human Realm.”
The Force Ghost frowned. “If you’re not going, then what are you doing here?”
“I-I’m accompanying them,” the Starving Ghost said, somewhat nervously under the reprimand.
The Force Ghost sized him up and seemed to think it didn’t matter whether he was tested or not, as he clearly belonged in the Underworld. He didn’t waste any more words.
Shakily standing up and turning around, the Force Ghost faced the wall.
Instantly, the wall clattered down, revealing a dark and deep passage.
“At the end of this road is the Human Realm.” He stepped aside, looking at Wu Sheng and Xu Wang. “Go ahead.”
Xu Wang wanted to say goodbye to the Starving Ghost, but when he turned his head, he caught a glimpse of envy in the ghost’s eyes that hadn’t been retracted in time.
Xu Wang suddenly felt a bit annoyed. “Just trying it won’t cost you a piece of flesh!”
The Starving Ghost was startled by the shout. “Huh?”
“I mean, what’s the harm in just trying the sand pot?” Xu Wang reproached. “You give up before even trying. At this rate, you’ll never be able to do it.”
“But…”
“There are no ‘buts’! Do you want to wander around the edges of the Underworld forever? Never even getting a touch of ghost energy? You died of starvation in life. Do you want to starve to the point of soul dispersal in death?”
“I know you mean well,” the Starving Ghost muttered sulkily, “but why does it sound like a curse…”
Xu Wang, both amused and exasperated, let his spirit nudge the Starving Ghost forward. “Just try it already.”
The Force Ghost, standing beside the pot, didn’t stop him but looked disdainful, clearly not believing this one could pass.
The Starving Ghost hesitantly buried his hand in the sand.
Xu Wang found himself holding his breath, inexplicably even more nervous than during his own test.
The sand around the wrist of the Starving Ghost began to move first, rolling back and forth like blown by a gentle breeze.
Then, the sand slowly started to move. It wasn’t clear whether it was stronger or weaker than Xu Wang and Wu Sheng’s tests, as instead of flowing, it formed a moderate vortex under his hand.
The Force Ghost raised his long white eyebrows in surprise. “Didn’t expect it, but you do have some ghost power.”
Receiving affirmation, the Starving Ghost immediately relaxed, but his complexion worsened.
The Force Ghost observed him for a while, as if seeing through something, and sighed with rare kindness in his voice. “How much suffering did you endure in life? Go ahead to the Human Realm and absorb some ghost energy.”
The Starving Ghost became despondent, no longer speaking.
As the group walked through the dark tunnel in silence, Xu Wang tentatively called out, “Xiao Hungry?”
In the dark tunnel, where no light shone, they could only hear each other’s voices.
“Hm?” Thankfully, the Starving Ghost responded.
“How did you die in life?” Xu Wang asked the question that had been on his mind, but quickly added, “If you don’t want to talk about it, just ignore my question.”
“It’s not that I can’t talk about it.” The Starving Ghost’s voice in the darkness carried a bitter smile, not of complaint but of self-mockery. “I was deceived by a friend. He took all my money and left me alone in the wilderness. Eventually, I starved to death, penniless and unable to find my way home.”
“Didn’t you seek revenge after you died?” Xu Wang suddenly hoped Xiao Hungry was a vengeful ghost.
“I intended to, at first.” The Starving Ghost’s stomach rumbled embarrassingly, and he chuckled. “But then I was too hungry and weak, too lazy to bother.”
Xu Wang: “Too lazy to take revenge?!”
Wu Sheng: “Too lazy to take revenge?!”
Their sudden duet in disbelief made Xu Wang and Wu Sheng instinctively look at each other, but in the pitch-black tunnel, they couldn’t see each other’s figures. However, the overlapping “clear-cut sense of grievance and injustice” in their aura was still very strong.
Since high school, their principle had been to return the favor tenfold and retaliate against any offense, at least with a kick, possibly with an added elbow for interest.
So they couldn’t understand the Starving Ghost’s “generosity”.
“Haa, let’s not talk about me.” The Starving Ghost, clearly losing the argument, changed the subject. “We’re about to meet the manager of the Human Realm. Have you two thought about how to deal with him?”
Wu Sheng: “You said he’s looking for talents to serve in the Heavenly Realm?”
Starving Ghost: “Yes, both literary and martial talents. I heard the Western Courtyard has been restless lately, so the boss is also on edge.”
The words “Western Courtyard” tightened Xu Wang and Wu Sheng’s hearts a bit.
Feeling guilty is a natural human instinct, stronger in some and weaker in others, but non-existent in none.
“Western Courtyard?” Xu Wang pretended not to understand.
The Starving Ghost, unsuspecting, explained everything. “This mansion is divided into east and west courtyards. We are in the Eastern Courtyard, where everything is orderly. The Western Courtyard is more chaotic, without rules. Whoever has stronger ghost power rules…”
“Usually, the two courtyards don’t interfere with each other, but the leader of the Western Courtyard always feels that we in the East have more talented and powerful ghosts. He’s provoked us several times, wanting to take advantage during the chaos…”
“Actually,” Xu Wang carefully chose his words, “having the Western Courtyard join might not be a bad thing. Look at you guys now. To get closer to the Ghost Spring, you have to go through numerous assessments. But the Ghost Spring should be for everyone. It’s not fair if only a few can access it, right?”
The Starving Ghost fell silent.
Xu Wang’s words dissipated in the tunnel, and the air suddenly became awkward.
After an indeterminate time, as light began to seep through the end of the tunnel, the Starving Ghost suddenly asked, “Have you been to the Western Courtyard?”
Xu Wang hesitated for a moment.
Walking together until now, they were almost friends with the Starving Ghost. The guilt of lying to a friend was gradually taking root.
With resolve, he whispered, “No.”
“If you had been, you wouldn’t think so highly of it,” the Starving Ghost said solemnly. “There, the leader changes every few days. Whoever has stronger ghost power reigns. Constant fighting and chaos. Weaker ghosts can’t live peacefully. If you’re unlucky, you might get caught in the turmoil, and your soul will disperse.”
“If I have to choose between war and peace, I’d choose peace. And—” The tunnel reached its end, and the moonlight shone in, making the Starving Ghost’s face look more spirited. “If it were as chaotic as the Western Courtyard, I might never have met you guys.”
He grinned, revealing a sincere happiness amidst his ghostly demeanor.
Xu Wang suddenly found it hard to meet his eyes, changing the subject. “What did you say the Human Realm manager values most?”
The Starving Ghost, unaware of the change, naturally replied, “I heard he particularly values talent and appreciates knowledge of military strategies.”
……
Fifteen minutes later, in the Human Realm, at the manager’s assessment site.
Wu Sheng: “The ‘Thirty-Six Stratagems*’ is divided into Winning Stratagems, Enemy Dealing Stratagems, Offensive Stratagems, Mixed Warfare Stratagems, Combined Stratagems, Defeat Stratagems. Each set has six stratagems making thirty-six in total. Details as follows: Deceiving the Heavens to Cross the Sea, Besieging Wei to Rescue Zhao, Killing with a Borrowed Knife, Waiting at Leisure while the Enemy Labors…”
*A Chinese essay used to illustrate a series of stratagems used in politics, war, and civil interaction. Wu Sheng is basically reciting the contents of it. You can read all the things mentioned by going to the Wikipedia.
Wu Sheng: “’The Art of War’ by Sun Tzu, comprising thirteen chapters, including Laying Pans, The Waging of War, The Attack Stratagem, The Tactical Dispositions…”
Wu Sheng: “In Laying Plans, Sun Tzu said: War is a matter of vital importance to the state; a matter of life or death, the road to survival or ruin. It is mandatory that it be thoroughly studied…”
Half an hour later.
Human Realm Manager: “If I give you a ghost army, are you confident in assisting our boss to defend against the Western Courtyard?”
Wu Sheng: “No need for a ghost army. Two ghosts are enough.”
Human World Manager: “Which two?”
Wu Sheng: “This one to my left, as beautiful as a flower, and this one to my right, thin and pale.”
……
At the same time, Underworld, Eastern Courtyard.
Lao Qian and Xiao Kuang were lost.
The Underworld wasn’t only vast but also chaotic. The ghosts were relatively orderly, but the place itself was a mess. The main roads and paths crisscrossed in such a way that they often found themselves back where they started after walking for half a day.
Finally, in utter frustration, they smelled a faint scent of tallow amidst the decaying smell of the ghost mansion, which was as refreshing as menthol.
Following the scent, they sneaked into a secluded courtyard. Before they even reached the window, they heard the sound of men and women laughing—a sticky, ambiguous sound with an adult-only undertone.
There were no ghosts in the courtyard. Each of them quietly approached a window, which was wide open, revealing a scandalous scene inside.
A naked male ghost was lying on a bed, surrounded by four or five female ghosts in sheer garments. Some were snuggling in his arms, some were fanning him, and one was feeding him grapes. The male ghost was enjoying the moment, just like a veritable ghost version of Ximen Qing*.
*A fictional Chinese Song dynasty merchant, womanizer, and murderer in Yanggu County, Shandong. He is the male protagonist in the novel Jin Ping Mei and a minor character in the novel Water Margin.
Qian Ai was disgusted, resisting the urge to slap him, and tried to search the bed while avoiding the various bodies.
Suddenly, a piece of sheer fabric flew out of the bed towards the window!
Qian Ai instinctively dodged, and the fabric brushed past his face but hit Kuang Jinxin on the shoulder. In an instant, it wrapped around Kuang Jinxin tightly, entangling him completely!
Before Qian Ai could react, the fabric retracted, pulling Kuang Jinxin back into the room!
Kuang Jinxin, mummified by the fabric, fell to the floor with a thud.
The Flirtatious Ghost pushed away the female ghosts around him, and with a light flick of his finger, the fabric unraveled.
Kuang Jinxin was dizzy from the fall, and before he could get a clear look at the Flirtatious Ghost, the ghost had already leaned in close.
Kuang Jinxin, startled but immobile, let the ghost scrutinize him at close range. Secretly, he controlled his severed hand to slowly reach for the “ghost bed”. The hint for the badge was “Bed Loving Ghost,” meaning it was either on the ghost or the bed he was enamored with. Since the Flirtatious Ghost, who was naked, clearly had no badge on him, it had to be the bed.
The Flirtatious Ghost and the female ghosts were all focused on Kuang Jinxin, not noticing an extra “severed hand” on the bed.
“Where did you come from? You’ve got nice, tender skin,” the Flirtatious Ghost said flirtatiously, eyeing Kuang Jinxin. “I don’t discriminate between men and women. Want to try it with me?”
Just as he was about to touch Kuang Jinxin’s face, a loud shout came from the window. “Why don’t you try it with me!”
The Flirtatious Ghost, the female ghosts, and Kuang Jinxin all turned to see a flying head zooming in.
Qian Ai, in the form of a “flying head”, rushed to Kuang Jinxin’s side and swiftly pulled him away. Then he replaced Kuang Jinxin, face to face, nose to nose with the Flirtatious Ghost.
“How about me?” Qian Ai flipped his short hair seductively. “I’m especially energetic!”
“……” The Flirtatious Ghost visibly deflated.
Half a minute later.
“Hey, if you don’t agree, just say so. Why run away—” Qian Ai watched the fleeing Flirtatious Ghost in disbelief, feeling severely emotionally wounded.
With the Flirtatious Ghost gone, the female ghosts lost interest and drifted away.
This suited Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin just fine.
The two friends scrambled onto the bed, searching thoroughly.
Soon, they had turned the bed inside out but found nothing—no shimmer and certainly no badge.
They looked at each other.
Kuang Jinxin: “At the Dream Ghost’s place?”
Qian Ai: “That’s the only possibility left.”
Just as they said this, a series of desperate screams approached from afar. It sounded like someone was screaming their lungs out.
Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin were startled, lifting their heads to see the Flirtatious Ghost, who had just escaped, now rushing back like a whirlwind. It dashed straight into the room!
The two of them hurriedly got off the bed, on full alert!
But the Flirtatious Ghost completely ignored them, running straight to the bed and curling up into a ball, shivering all over. Gone was the slightest hint of its earlier flamboyance!
Qian Ai swallowed hard. “Is my shadow that terrifying…”
At the courtyard gate, a crowd of little ghosts had gathered, peering inside with curiosity, whispering among themselves.
Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin walked out, pretending to be curious. “What happened to him?”
The ghosts in the Underworld floated around freely, and seeing two unfamiliar faces come out of the Flirtatious Ghost’s house didn’t seem odd to the onlookers. They were more than happy to share the gossip. “He must have gone crazy or something. He actually floated over to the Dream Ghost’s bed.”
2301, Blue Harbor City, inside the Compatibility Testing Center.
The four players, Zhou Qian, Bai Zhou, Hidden Blade, and He Xiaowei, were divided into two groups and all received instance recommendations from the machine. The most suitable instance for both groups to take on together, which was opening soon in Blue Harbor City, was an instance named “The Red God’s Banquet.”
“The Red God’s Banquet” would open in two days. After making their selection, they received the following message:
[Instances in the game also seek out those with fate, and you have chosen it as it has chosen you. Your action of selecting the instance at the Testing Center demonstrates your trust in the system. Hence, the system will provide you with a tip.]
[Rules to abide by: 1. Do not walk counterclockwise around the Tower of Tara; 2. Do not spend the night in a house where you can still see the light of fire from the window after sunset (Note).]
[Discover more rules within the instance.]
Afterward, the four didn’t leave but went to the rest area of the Testing Center. There were lounge chairs, swings, and vending machines, though the items in the machines were as exorbitantly priced as those in the Murder Exhibition Hall.
Since Zhou Qian had saved his life, He Xiaowei, who was usually a bit stingy, became exceptionally generous towards him. Seeing Zhou Qian sitting on a lounge chair, he eagerly offered, “Qian’er, do you want a Coke? With ice? Or room temperature?”
Zhou Qian shook his head decisively. “I don’t drink that kind of junk. You should cut down on it too. I haven’t seen you for a day, and you’ve already gained weight.”
He Xiaowei pouted unhappily. “Qian’er, that’s not fair. I only scored higher than you once, and you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder all this time! Are we still brothers?”
Zhou Qian looked at him seriously. “I’m not mocking you; I’m concerned for you. My college roommate used to drink three bottles of Coke a day and got diabetes within a month.”
He Xiaowei: “…………”
After a while, He Xiaowei still gulped down a bottle of Coke, then said in a self-consoling tone, “I don’t drink it every day. Besides, Qian’er, you don’t eat this and that; refuse barbecue and fried chicken; what’s the fun in life?”
“Really? I find it very interesting to manipulate villains, NPCs, or occasionally teammates. Besides—” Zhou Qian looked at Bai Zhou beside him with a smile. “So what if I don’t drink Coke? I have a boyfriend.”
He Xiaowei was first confused by the logic of Zhou Qian’s statement, then shocked, and took a moment to react.
It took a while before he understood what Zhou Qian meant, and he ended up spitting out the Coke he hadn’t swallowed yet.
“What? You like guys, Qian’er? Your boyfriend? Who is it? No, we’ve been grinding instances. When did you have time for a relationship?”
Beside him, Hidden Blade held his forehead.
He Xiaowei turned to him in surprise. “Master, did you know?”
Hidden Blade: “……”
Zhou Qian didn’t look at He Xiaowei anymore but glanced towards the door.
They had been at the Testing Center for quite a while, but they hadn’t seen any other Rank God players.
After thinking for a while, Zhou Qian turned to Bai Zhou and asked, “Shall I go to that solo instance soon?”
Bai Zhou held his hand. “Before you go, do something with me first.”
Zhou Qian asked, “What is it?”
Bai Zhou didn’t answer immediately but just stood up, pulling him along. They left the Testing Center and headed back to the seaside villa.
After a long while, He Xiaowei, looking at their retreating backs, asked Hidden Blade in great surprise, “Ah? Oh! I get it! The boyfriend Qian’er mentioned, is it him?”
Hidden Blade: “……Who else?”
……
After a 20-minute walk, the two returned to the seaside villa.
Bai Zhou squeezed a glass of orange juice for Zhou Qian and handed it to him before saying, “The instance you want to go to is quite dangerous. Did you see the success rate? Only 15%.”
“The lower the success rate, the higher the reward. Through this instance, I can significantly improve my basic stats. It saves time. If I quickly clear the instance, I can still make it to ‘The Red God’s Banquet’ with you.”
At this point, Zhou Qian smiled, sipped the juice, and looked at Bai Zhou while drawling out his tone. “Zhou Ge, are you worried about me?”
Zhou Qian, of course, knew he was asking the obvious.
But he wanted Bai Zhou to say something, like he was indeed very worried about him.
Bai Zhou asked Zhou Qian, “Where is the scale from before?”
Hearing this, Zhou Qian took out the scale that could be used as a medium to enter Bai Zhou’s mental domain and asked, “Right, didn’t you say there was an official ceremony at the Testing Center?”
“Yes. 30% is the minimum compatibility requirement. Above 30%, a Rank God player and a Shepherd can enter a harmonization period, but only after reaching 65% can an official ceremony be held to complete the binding.”
Bai Zhou pointed to the scale Zhou Qian just took out. “After the ceremony, this scale can be placed inside your forehead, and then you can use your skills to enter my mental domain.”
Zhou Qian: “So, we can’t hold the ceremony yet.”
Bai Zhou: “Mm. After ‘The Red God’s Banquet’, we should be close to 65%.”
“I understand. Before that, I couldn’t freely enter and exit your mental domain. I need to place this medium scale on my forehead each time.”
Zhou Qian then asked, “So, why did you ask me to take out this scale now?”
Bai Zhou: “Now, enter my mental domain.”
Placing the scale on his forehead, Zhou Qian held Bai Zhou’s hand and once again entered his mental realm.
The last time he was here, the place was shrouded in darkness and littered with mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
This time, however, he found himself in a clean and cozy room, which he quickly recognized as Bai Zhou’s bedroom.
Back in the day, after Bai Zhou left without a word, Zhou Qian, in a fit of anger, went looking for him, only to find his bedroom had been transformed into a new nursery by his mother. But before that, Zhou Qian often spent time in this bedroom with Bai Zhou, playing games, doing homework, and having playful arguments.
This bedroom held many memories of their past. Bai Zhou’s parents were often busy and not at home, making Bai Zhou’s house, in a sense, another private space for the two of them. Back then, Bai Zhou frequently cooked Zhou Qian’s favorite food.
“It’s nice to see this bedroom again,” Zhou Qian commented, sitting on Bai Zhou’s bed, but he didn’t elaborate on the fact that the bedroom in reality had been turned into a nursery.
Bai Zhou seemed to understand something from his words but didn’t inquire further about his parents’ current situation. Instead, he spread his hand, and a deep blue scale materialized in his palm.
Zhou Qian, curious, asked, “What’s this?”
Bai Zhou: “This is what I got by dividing some of my mental power. Remember the three little dragons?”
Zhou Qian blinked. “Ah? Remember! So this—”
Bai Zhou took Zhou Qian’s hand and placed his palm on the scale as well. Thus, their fingers interlocked, tightly sandwiching the glowing, deep blue scale.
Bai Zhou explained, “I’m still not entirely at ease with you going alone. This scale can be used as a tool for you to take into the instance. It’s now absorbing our combined mental power and will materialize as a product of our combined mental energies.”
“I originally thought you were going to create a clone for me. But now, it seems… you’re making our child?”
Zhou Qian said without reservation, then teased Bai Zhou, “Zhou Ge, what did you do to me last night? How am I suddenly having a child?”
After a moment of silence, Bai Zhou leaned forward and whispered in Zhou Qian’s ear, “Really? Between the two of us, who’s the one with special talents?”
Was Bai Zhou hinting at what he did with his fingers… to him?
Zhou Qian turned his head and asked, “When will the little dragon come out?”
Bai Zhou gave him a faint look. “Wait a bit longer.”
Zhou Qian: “Oh.”
Bai Zhou: “Don’t rush.”
Zhou Qian: “I’m not in a hurry. How can one rush having a child?”
Bai Zhou: “……”
“Zhou Qian?”
“Hmm?”
“Focus a bit more. This won’t do.”
“Got it, got it.”
20 minutes later, Zhou Qian, holding a scale that could summon a little dragon, left the mental realm with Bai Zhou and headed towards a place called “Purple Mist Mountain”.
It took them another 20 minutes to reach the foot of the mountain.
The mountain was obscured by clouds and fog, unclear to the eye. A small path had been built at the foot of the mountain. The path extended to the roadside, where a wooden fence and gate had been constructed. A sign on the gate read: “Purple Mist Mountain has recently been inhabited by demons. Citizens, please be careful and do not enter this area recklessly!”
Thus, the sign effectively isolated ordinary NPCs who were citizens.
Just as Bai Zhou approached the sign, he received a prompt:
[Continuing forward leads to the instance area. Rank God player 137’s level is too high to enter.]
Zhou Qian, however, walked unhindered to the entrance and then turned back to smile and wave at Bai Zhou. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”
Bai Zhou: “Once you’re inside, summon the little dragon immediately. This is different from last time. You can train it, nurture it, and make it a powerful companion to keep by your side.”
“Alright.”
Zhou Qian waved again at Bai Zhou, then turned and stepped decisively into the entrance.
Upon entering, Zhou Qian received a prompt for loading the solo instance.
[Player Zhou Qian entered solo instance: Purple Mist Mountain.]
[Purple Mist Mountain has recently been overtaken by strange demons. Citizens passing by the mountain have all been killed, and the surrounding area is in panic. No one dares to come near anymore. We hope you, with your kind heart, can eliminate these demons and restore peace to Purple Mist Mountain.]
[According to incomplete statistics from the Blue Harbor City’s Bureau of Paranormal Investigation, at least 30 people have died here, with no survivors. Only one victim managed to escape Purple Mist Mountain and ran towards a hospital, but still couldn’t be saved and died. Before dying, he left a message—the demons here seem to be a father and son.]
[The exploration is about to begin. Kill the demons of Purple Mist Mountain to clear the instance.]
[Clearance Rate: 15%]
[Player Zhou Qian: Wishing you good luck.]
After reading the prompt, Zhou Qian took out the scale from his bag and successfully summoned a little dragon. The blue dragon landed with a “plop”, opened its round eyes, curled up its tail, and then came around to touch Zhou Qian, as if testing whether it could get close to its master.
Seeing this, Zhou Qian bent down, smiled, and stroked its head, then picked it up with one hand.
Feeling the closeness of its master, the little dragon seemed very happy. It made a “yip” sound and affectionately nuzzled Zhou Qian’s neck before jumping onto his shoulder and sitting down obediently.
“I still feel like this is Zhou Ge’s clone. He must be worried about me, but too shy to say it,” Zhou Qian mused, stroking the little dragon’s head. “Or else… Zhou Ge, can you see me?”
The little dragon: “Yip?”
Zhou Qian patted its head and didn’t say anything else, but then took out another item and held it in his hand—his weapon, the Rib of God.
This weapon had a skill that Zhou Qian had never used before—nurturing and summoning a bone spirit. When he had unlocked this skill, he tried it once but failed. He wondered if there were other hidden conditions for successfully nurturing a bone spirit that the system hadn’t told him.
After all, nurturing a bone spirit required players to consume their own life points.
However, Zhou Qian’s life points had been very low, belonging to the lowest tier of the Rank S.
He wondered if, after this instance run and a significant boost to his stats, he would be able to possess a real bone spirit.
With the small dragon perched on his left shoulder and the Rib of God in his right hand, Zhou Qian had stepped towards Purple Mist Mountain.
The path to the foot of the mountain had been shrouded in fog on both sides. Zhou Qian checked the map, noting that these areas were marked as unexplorable.
In such a monster-farming area, there was probably not much to explore; players should just follow the main path to fight the boss.
However, with an instance clearance rate of only 15%, Zhou Qian suspected there might be some secrets behind it.
With this in mind, he didn’t rush straight to the boss’ location but observed his surroundings as he walked.
Upon reaching the foot of the mountain, Zhou Qian finally discovered some information.
There was a bulletin board there, covered with many newspapers.
Zhou Qian noticed that the latest newspaper was from three months ago. Probably, that was when the monsters appeared here, deterring any staff from posting new information.
After reading the newspapers carefully, Zhou Qian caught a key piece of information.
It mentioned a bizarre story from five years ago—
In Blue Harbor City, there had been a deeply loving couple. They dated, married, and the wife naturally became pregnant. Tragically, when she was four months pregnant, she was diagnosed with a serious illness. If she chose to keep the baby, she would surely die, but aborting the baby might offer her a slim chance of survival.
Later, the husband found a skilled doctor who implanted an artificial womb in him. The doctor transferred the baby from the wife’s womb to the husband’s body. Thus, the husband saved both his wife’s life and their child.
Thanks to Blue Harbor City’s advanced technology, including artificial wombs, men could also become pregnant. The husband received much praise from the city’s citizens.
The praise was mainly because this technology was still immature, with few successful trials, and he took a significant risk.
Additionally, the technology could cause severe side effects, causing excruciating pain for the pregnant man, but he chose to proceed, earning praise for his courage and responsibility.
However, the good times didn’t last. Despite the child’s removal, the wife eventually succumbed to her illness.
The man then carried the pregnancy to term alone and miraculously gave birth to the child…
At first glance, this story seemed heartwarming, with everyone praising the husband’s love for his wife.
But upon reading it, Zhou Qian felt something was amiss.
It seemed the man cared more about the child than his wife.
In Zhou Qian’s view, given his wife’s severe illness, as a husband, he should have first focused on caring for her.
If the artificial womb implantation was risky, why did the husband insist on trying it?
If he had died in the attempt, who would have cared for his seriously ill wife?
Moreover, even if the surgery succeeded, the pregnant husband would suffer greatly, likely unable to care for his wife properly.
It was clear he cared more about the child.
Why did he go to such lengths to keep the child?
Since this was a monster-farming dungeon, the clues for the story and puzzles should have been straightforward and direct.
Thus, Zhou Qian could almost confirm that the “father-son demons” of Purple Mist Mountain were likely the father and son from this news story.
This so-called husband probably saw his wife merely as a tool for childbirth. For some reason, he and his son had turned into demons.
For such a despicable person, Zhou Qian had no mercy.
After reading all the newspapers on the bulletin board and instructing the small dragon to tear them down, Zhou Qian didn’t miss even the news on the back.
Then he had the dragon dismantle the entire bulletin board. Once he was sure there was no more information, he continued forward.
On the way, Zhou Qian patted the dragon’s head. “Zhou Ge said, cough, your dad said, do you have the ability [Treasure Hunt]?”
The small dragon nodded obediently. “Yip!”
Zhou Qian asked, “If there are any clues along the way that I missed, can you find them?”
“Yip yip!”
“Good boy!” Zhou Qian was very satisfied and strode forward. “Then I don’t need to be distracted looking for clues. Don’t miss the bushes, under the trees, and in the soil on the sides of the mountain road.”
“Ang~!”
A true monster-farming instance.
However, after climbing several dozen steps, Zhou Qian had arrived at a platform midway up the mountain—
The father-son demons were right there!
[Target: Demon King Child]
[Age: 4 years]
[Level: S+]
[Specialties: Infant Cry, Illusion Attack, Love Slap]
[Tip 1: Attack skills unknown, life points unknown, defense unknown, special skills unknown. Players must explore on their own.]
[Tip 2: The Demon King Father’s attack and defense are incredibly strong. Be very cautious when fighting him.]
[Tip 3: The Demon King Father has a cultivation sleep period. If disturbed and awakened, he will launch a powerful attack on the player.]
[Player Note: The battle is about to begin!]
[The Demon King Father is in cultivation sleep. His cultivation requires sleep. He will wake up in 30 minutes; the Demon King Child will notice you in one minute, giving you one minute to prepare.]
Zhou Qian had already arranged the necessary items and potions at the front of his inventory for easy access.
Thus, during this one-minute period, he could carefully observe the two monsters.
The bodies of this father and son duo were entirely purple, with pointed ears, and their skin was covered with many granules, some large enough to resemble fleshy bumps.
Although they didn’t have any grotesquely shaped appendages, with such appearances, it wasn’t surprising that they were called “demons”.
As the system had indicated, the Demon King Father was currently in a deep sleep. He lay on his back at the edge of the platform, not at all looking like he was practicing any skills and even snoring lightly.
Oddly enough was his belly—he was shirtless, exposing his abdomen, which had a large fleshy bump on it, as if he was still pregnant.
Was that the “artificial womb” mentioned in the report?
Why hadn’t he removed it yet?
On the other side, the Demon King Child was crawling on the ground. Even at four years old, he seemed unable to walk.
He hadn’t turned around yet, so he hadn’t noticed Zhou Qian.
According to the system’s prompt, he would attack the player after a minute.
As for his father, the Demon King Father, he would wake up after 30 minutes.
In this situation, there was an optimal strategy for defeating the demons—
For the next 30 minutes, the Demon King Father would remain in a “sleeping” state. If disturbed, he would wake up and then attack the player.
Given his incredibly strong defense, it was virtually impossible for a player to kill him in one blow.
This meant that if a player attacked the Demon King Father first, it would wake him up, prematurely triggering his attack. Meanwhile, the Demon King Child would still be alive. Consequently, the player would face a daunting two-on-one situation.
Therefore, the optimal strategy for the player was to kill the Demon King Child within the first 30 minutes without disturbing the Demon King Father.
After 30 minutes, the player would then engage in a one-on-one duel with the Demon King Father.
By defeating the father and son separately, the player could avoid the disadvantageous two-on-one situation.
Such a strategy was something anyone but a fool could come up with.
But why then did only 15% of players successfully clear this instance?
Could it be that the Demon King Father, with his unknown attack power, was truly invincible?
One minute later.
The four-year-old Demon King Child turned around, lifted his head, and looked at Zhou Qian.
Suddenly, he burst into tears, launching the [Infant Cry] skill at Zhou Qian.
Zhou Qian’s vision immediately blurred with double images, and he felt the earth tremble and the tree shadows flicker endlessly; even the blue sky seemed to shatter into countless pieces.
In that moment, it was as if numerous Demon King Children had appeared, advancing on him from all directions.
Guessing that this move was related to some kind of illusion, Zhou Qian frowned and then saw countless Demon King Children rushing towards him.
Due to their high speed and the multiple illusions created by their skill, the children seemed to multiply in an instant.
Zhou Qian was immediately surrounded by countless Demon King Children, each raising a hand to deliver a [Love Slap].
If he were really hit by this slap, Zhou Qian estimated his life points would be halved immediately.
Thinking this, Zhou Qian immediately gripped the Rib of God, consuming a little mana to slightly slow down the flow of time.
Then, he closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. When he opened his eyes, the illusions caused by the crying had disappeared, along with the multiple images, leaving only one fast-moving Demon King Child approaching him from one direction.
The Demon King Child’s attack power might not be very high, but his incredibly fast speed was probably his greatest asset in combat.
Fortunately, one of Zhou Qian’s trump skills was time control, which naturally slowed down the little Boss’ speed.
Immediately, Zhou Qian curled his lips mockingly and said, “Is that all?”
In the next instant, the child leaped up, his hand reaching for Zhou Qian’s forehead in a slap.
Putting the Rib of God in his left hand, Zhou Qian further slowed time and sidestepped. He then drew a short knife given to him by Bai Zhou and swiftly slashed at the child’s neck.
The sharp blade, imbued with killing intent, flashed and disappeared in an instant, and purple blood surged from the child’s neck.
Zhou Qian quickly sidestepped to avoid the disgusting demon blood.
To conserve mana, he promptly stopped slowing time.
On the platform, under the blue sky, the Demon King Child lay motionless in a pool of purple blood, no longer breathing.
Through the system panel, Zhou Qian saw that his life points had dropped to zero.
Logically, he should be dead.
But just then, Zhou Qian’s peripheral vision caught a glimmer of golden light.
Turning around, he saw that the golden light was actually emanating from the large fleshy bump on the sleeping Demon King Father’s belly.
The golden light flickered on and off, and after a few flashes, the Demon King Child on the ground suddenly jumped up.
The wound on his neck had vanished.
At the same time, Zhou Qian saw his health bar restored to 100%!
Xu Wang gently pushed open the Moon Gate, and the door creaked softly, like a whimper.
The four entered in single file.
As Qian Ai, who was last in line, stepped into the Eastern Courtyard, the door closed behind them with a “snap”, startling everyone.
Xu Wang turned to pull the door open again, but it wouldn’t budge.
The wind here was colder than in the Western Courtyard, piercing through their clothes.
The scene before them—if ruins could be considered a scene—was more desolate and bleaker than the Western Courtyard, with fallen dead trees and a dried-up pond. The ground was covered in foul-smelling mud, and the pavilion at the end of the corridor had collapsed. In the cold moonlight, it seemed like ghostly figures were flickering among the wreckage.
The companions were certain they had never visited this part of the Eastern Courtyard during their last attempt at 5/23.
“This place is supposed to have good Feng Shui?” Qian Ai said in a barely audible voice, full of frustration. “This is good Feng Shui?”
Wu Sheng sighed softly. “You need to think in reverse.”
Qian Ai: “……”
Wu Sheng: “……”
Qian Ai: “And then? That’s it?”
No further explanation?!
“You’re so dense,” Xu Wang whispered to Qian Ai, pulling him closer. “What he means is, this place might be distressing for humans, but for ghosts, it could be the ultimate comfort zone, get it?”
Qian Ai understood. “…A hell for the living, a paradise for ghosts.”
“Captain, don’t blame Qian Ge for being dense.” Kuang Jinxin joined in, trying to suppress his laughter. “Imagine if Qian Ge understood every glance from Wu Sheng like you do, immediately deciphering the full meaning with just one word…”
Wu Sheng looked up silently at the sky.
“Lao Qian” Xu Wang immediately turned to his teammate and patted him on the shoulder sincerely. “You don’t need to improve; just stay as you are. You’re good.”
Qian Ai: “……”
“You guys—” A ghostly howl came from not far away, eerie yet righteous in tone. “You there, don’t move!”
As soon as the voice fell, a ghostly figure rushed in front of them.
He was around forty years old, lean and gaunt, with a sallow and pallid complexion like a dead man. His lips were black, but his eyes were moving erratically, making him seem more “alive” than other ghosts.
“How did you get in here?” The ghost sized them up suspiciously.
“We… We climbed over the wall,” Xu Wang lied without batting an eye.
“We’re homeless wandering spirits,” Wu Sheng added. “Looking for a place to settle.”
Xu Wang, Qian Ai, Kuang Jinxin: “……”
Their advisor had been reading “Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio” on the train yesterday. Whether he learned ghost handling or not wasn’t clear, but he definitely memorized these ancient-sounding lines.
“There’s a main gate. Why climb a wall?” The ghost chided, but his hostility lessened. “If the boss finds out I didn’t guard the gate and let living people sneak in, I’ll be nailed again.”
Again?
Xu Wang hadn’t noticed any obvious wounds on the ghost, assuming he had died of poisoning. But hearing these words and taking a closer look, he noticed a large nail pierced through the ghost’s fontanelle, with only the head of the nail visible, hidden by disheveled hair, and difficult to spot.
“Alright,” the Nailed Ghost sighed in relief. “Luckily, I found you. Come on, I’ll take you to see the boss. Whether you can stay here depends on him.”
The four companions exchanged glances—Are they going to meet the boss now?
Xu Wang pursed his lips—What if this boss asks us to go undercover?
Qian Ai widened his eyes—Infiltration within infiltration?
Kuang Jinxin frowned—This is too difficult…
Wu Sheng held his forehead—No one designs a script to be a never-ending loop!
“Why are you four winking?” The Nailed Ghost walked a few steps, then turned back to see the four hadn’t moved and said impatiently, “Hurry up and follow.”
The four collected their thoughts and quickly followed the ghost through the corridor, twisting and turning, until they arrived at a small, secluded courtyard.
The courtyard was small and could be seen at a glance. There was only a crooked tree that seemed about to fall and a well underneath it.
Xu Wang looked puzzledly at the Nailed Ghost. “Your boss… is in the well?”
“Don’t be deceived by your eyes,” the ghost suddenly said solemnly. “You see it as a well, but it’s actually a gateway to the deeper courtyard.”
“So next…” Xu Wang had a bad feeling.
The ghost: “We jump into the well together.”
He knew it!
As the four and the ghost approached the well, the Nailed Ghost suddenly stepped back two steps and gestured. “Jump.”
Xu Wang promptly insisted, “You first.”
“Hurry and jump. Don’t wait for me to kick you in.” The ghost’s tone turned fierce again, and in his fierceness, there was a hint of… urgency?
Xu Wang narrowed his eyes and stood still.
Suddenly, Wu Sheng pulled him behind, shielding him, and negotiated with the ghost. “We’ll jump first, but don’t stand so far away. You need to stay by the well and watch us go down.”
The ghost didn’t speak; he just stared at them, and a wisp of black smoke started rising from the nail in his head.
The next second, the ghost lunged forward, pushing the unsuspecting Kuang Jinxin into the well with force!
Kuang Jinxin’s body tilted, and he fell headfirst into the well!
Qian Ai gasped for air and reached out to catch him, but it all happened too fast. Before he could grasp him, Kuang Jinxin had already fallen!
“Xiao Kuang—” Qian Ai shouted loudly into the dark well!
Wu Sheng quickly extended his catching vines into the well to pursue!
“I’m okay…” Kuang Jinxin’s response finally came from the well.
Soon after, Classmate Kuang was pulled out of the well and back into daylight by his severed hand, which was tightly grasping his collar.
The [Man Catching Vines] didn’t catch up with Classmate Kuang, who managed to save himself using his stationery.
Qian Ai and Wu Sheng were astounded.
This isn’t a severed hand; it’s a divine hand of steel!
Meanwhile, as Kuang Jinxin fell, Xu Wang manipulated his spirit to tightly entangle the Nailed Ghost, wrapping him tighter and tighter!
Could a ghost be strangled? Xu Wang wasn’t sure. But at the moment, he couldn’t think of a better way to deal with this guy.
As he was lost in thought, a dark shadow suddenly rushed from the gloomy corner, grabbed the Nailed Ghost’s waist, and rushed to the edge of the well in one breath!
Kuang Jinxin had already come out of the well, and the three companions instinctively moved aside, seeing a blur of ghostly figures rapidly approaching.
With a swift motion, the shadow pressed against the back of the Nailed Ghost, lifted his legs, and directly shoved him into the well!
It all happened in an instant. The shadow moved so fast that it was impossible to discern its appearance, and the Nailed Ghost had no time to resist!
There was a loud “thud” as the ghost seemed to hit the dry bottom of the well, and then, in the next moment, its wailing cries filled the entire courtyard.
The wailing was so piercing it made one’s scalp tingle and heart tremble.
Fortunately, it soon weakened, and then there was silence.
A pale blue, ghostly flame slowly floated out of the well and landed in the shadow’s hand.
Only then did they see clearly that the shadow was a young man in his twenties. However, he was pale and emaciated and had a haggard appearance. Even among ghosts, he didn’t instill fear but rather evoked pity and the realization of how tough life in the ghost world could be.
“He lied to you,” the ghostly figure said. There was a sense of honesty in his voice. “He’s not a gatekeeper; he’s a Ghost Eater.”
Xu Wang: “Huh?”
Wu Sheng: “A Ghost Eater?”
Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin: “……”
Why did the advisor’s words suddenly seem somewhat cute?
“Yes, a Ghost Eater,” the pale, thin figure said, giving them a disdainful look. His eyes, which were previously cloudy, rolled back, revealing clarity. “He specifically targets new ghosts, luring them here and pushing them into the well. Once their primordial souls are extracted, he devours them.”
“What happens to the ghosts that are pushed in?” Xu Wang asked.
“The moment their primordial soul is extracted, they cease to exist,” the pale, thin figure said.
“We’re new ghosts, inexperienced,” Advisor Wu said, using what had become his standard opening line for inquiries. “Ghosts shouldn’t fall into wells, right?”
“It’s not about falling into wells in general, but this particular well,” the pale, thin figure said, looking solemnly into the well. “This well is called the Soul-Refining Well. Whoever falls in, no matter how powerful they are as ghosts, will have their primordial soul extracted.”
The four looked around the small courtyard, unable to tell that such an inconspicuous and remote corner hid such a deadly well.
Qian Ai broke out in a cold sweat from the realization. “I mean, with such a dangerous place, couldn’t you put up some caution tape or a sign or something?”
The pale, thin figure stared at him for a while and then laughed. “No one’s ever thought of that.”
“Each ghost sweeps the snow in front of their own door. Why bother about the frost on another ghost’s roof tiles? This bad habit, brought from the world of the living to the ghostly abode…” Qian Ai shook his head in disappointment. “I didn’t expect the ghost world to be so indifferent too.”
Wu Sheng and Kuang Jinxin pulled away their overly involved teammate and switched with Captain Xu.
“Is this the primordial soul in your hand?” Xu Wang had been staring at the ghostly flame for a while.
“Yes, consuming it can increase ghost powers.” The pale, thin figure offered. “Who wants to eat it?”
Xu Wang, Wu Sheng, Qian Ai, and Kuang Jinxin: “……”
The greatest sorrow is finally meeting a friendly and united ghost but not being able to share the “nourishing pill”.
Xu Wang chuckled awkwardly. “Well, you saved us. We couldn’t possibly take this from you. Keep it for yourself.”
The pale, thin figure looked at them for a while, then nodded and swallowed the primordial soul with a gulp.
The four companions watched carefully but couldn’t discern any change in the pale, thin figure.
…Maybe he grew in inner strength?
Just as they were wondering, the pale, thin figure’s stomach suddenly growled.
Xu Wang looked at him puzzledly. “Ghosts get hungry?”
The pale, thin figure scratched his head embarrassedly. “I died of starvation.”
The four companions: “……”
Flawless logic.
“Speaking of which, I heard you talking with the Ghost Eater about finding a place to stay?” the Starved Ghost suddenly asked.
Turning back to the main topic, Xu Wang refocused. “Yes.”
The Starved Ghost pressed his extremely flat belly, as if that could make him less hungry. “If you’re not picky, living in the underworld is fine.”
Wu Sheng: “The underworld?”
The Starved Ghost nodded. “Yes, here and the few courtyards ahead are collectively known as the underworld. You can live anywhere. No one will mind.”
Wu Sheng sensed something. “Is there anywhere else?”
“Yes, the courtyards further inside are called ‘the Human Realm’,” the Starved Ghost explained. “‘The Human Realm’ has stronger ghostly energy than here in the underworld, but not just anyone can go there. You have to find the person in charge and pass an assessment.”
“The underworld, the Human Realm.” Qian Ai found it odd. “Why not go higher, like the Heavenly Realm?”
The Starved Ghost: “There is. The boss lives in the innermost part, the Heavenly Realm.”
“……” Qian Ai forced a smile. “As expected of the boss, aiming high.”
Xu Wang seemed to understand. “So if we want to live in a better place, closer to the boss, we need to pass at least two assessments.”
The Starved Ghost looked at him surprised. “You really want to go to the Heavenly Realm? It’s difficult. The Ghost Spring is there, and the boss rarely lets anyone in. Only powerful ghosts can live in the Heavenly Realm.”
The Ghost Spring!
The four companions were startled, not expecting to come across such information so soon.
In the ensuing silence, a severed hand suddenly gently tugged at the Starved Ghost’s clothing.
The Starved Ghost turned, not seeing a ghost at first glance, then looked down to see Kuang Jinxin crouched on the ground.
“Xiao Hungry,” Kuang Jinxin tentatively said. “Can I ask about two ghosts?”
“…?” The new nickname complicated the Starved Ghost’s feelings, but the way it was said was quite endearing, so he felt a bit… not bad about it?
“Who do you want to ask about?”
“The Flirtatious Ghost and the Dream Ghost.” Kuang Jinxin asked, “Do you know where they live?”
Now that they had information about the Ghost Spring, the next target was naturally the badge.
“They’re here in the underworld,” the Starved Ghost replied without hesitation. “I don’t know the specific courtyard, but they definitely haven’t entered the Human Realm.”
Xu Wang leaned in. “So certain?”
The Starved Ghost nodded. “The Flirtatious Ghost isn’t qualified. The Dream Ghost is very afraid of ghosts and always hides in places with no ghosts. He wouldn’t actively seek out the person in charge, and I heard the courtyards get smaller the further in you go. If he entered, he’d have even fewer places to hide.”
Xu Wang and his three companions exchanged glances and then addressed the Starved Ghost, “We’re thinking of going to the Human Realm. Can you take us to find the person in charge?”
The Starved Ghost frowned, advising, “Are you sure you want to go? It’s actually quite nice here…”
“Ghosts aim high, water flows low*,” Xu Wang was now adept at speaking like a ghost. “But the four of us haven’t reached a consensus yet. Can we have some more time to discuss?”
*Water flows to lower places while man goes to higher position (人往高处走，水往低处流) Proverb that means people always seek to climb higher, yearning for a better life, while the habit of water always flows downwards. In this case, instead of man, it’s ghost.
“Alright,” the Starved Ghost agreed readily, squatting down and holding his rumbling stomach. “You’ve given me a primordial soul. If you really want to enter the human world, I will take you to find the manager.”
On this side, the Starved Ghost waited obediently and patiently.
On the other side, the four friends gathered together for a “Wangwang’s Team emergency meeting.”
“The Ghost Spring is in the Heavenly Realm, and the badge is in the Underworld. If we can’t find the save point, we will have to split up.” Wu Sheng hit the nail on the head.
Qian Ai sighed. “We didn’t find the save point last time we came, and I think we shouldn’t bother looking this time either. Let’s just split up and act.”
Kuang Jinxin said, “I agree with Qian Ge. If the tasks for other teams are simpler, there will be even less time left for us. Rather than looking for a save point where we don’t know where it is, it’s better to complete more definite tasks and find the badge.”
Xu Wang called everyone for a meeting, and this was the purpose. “That’s settled then. Wu Sheng and I will go to Heavenly Realm to find the Ghost Spring and submit our task, while Lao Qian and Xiao Kuang stay here to find the badge.”
A minute later, the four friends returned to the Starved Ghost.
The Starved Ghost was quite curious about the meeting’s outcome. “Have you decided?”
“Yes.” Xu Wang pointed to himself and Wu Sheng. “We are going to the human realm. Of course, it would be better if we could stay in the Heavenly Realm.” Then he pointed to Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin. “These two don’t want to go, so they’ll stay in the Underworld.”
Qian Ai: “……”
Staying in the Underworld. No matter how you hear it, it sounds ominous! Can’t they say underground workers? Even guardians of the negative first floor would be better!
In the dim corridor, the once bright red paint had turned to reddish-brown, flaking off in patches to reveal the eroded, decaying wood beneath. The corridor led to the inner courtyard, lined with yellowed leaves and dead trees. Scattered on the ground were pieces of paper money, both new and old, with no clear indication of the time of the offerings.
The four followed the Money Counting Ghost through the corridor, adhering to the principle of speaking less to avoid mistakes, waiting for the ghost to speak first. However, the ghost was even more silent than they were. Out of necessity, Xu Wang asked, “Ghost Ge, where are you taking us?”
The Money Counting Ghost glanced at him and finally spoke. “Don’t you want to stay here? I’ll tell you, we don’t keep idle ghosts. If you want to stay, you have to contribute.”
“Contribute?” The four companions’ eyes lit up, sensing a task at hand.
“Uh-huh.” The ghost continued walking forward, unaware of the four pairs of eager eyes behind him. “The West Courtyard is currently in need of ghosts. The boss has been worried about not finding new ghosts, and here you are. If it weren’t for such a coincidence, I wouldn’t have interrogated you like this.”
“The West Courtyard?” Xu Wang hadn’t heard of this term during his last visit.
“Don’t ask so many questions,” the Money Counting Ghost replied impatiently. “Anyway, I’m taking you to meet the boss now. If the boss agrees to take you in, you’ll have a place to stay, understand?”
The four companions exchanged glances, wondering about meeting the boss.
Last time, as soon as they entered, there was a ghost looking for something. Another team arrived simultaneously and snatched that task, so they found another ghost and undertook the task “Moon over the Willow Top, Ghost Date after Dusk.” But whether it was “searching” or “romance”, tasks were directly assigned by NPCs, with very clear objectives.
However, they had been following this NPC for quite some time now, and the <Cheat Sheet> hadn’t updated any tasks.
It was evident that “meeting the boss” wasn’t part of the task.
“Um, Ghost Ge.” Xu Wang hurried forward, asking with a smile, “Don’t you have something lost that we need to find? Or perhaps some love troubles that we can help you reunite?”
The Money Counting Ghost slowly turned, looking at him with a lifeless gaze. “Do you think a ghost like me could be fancied by a female ghost?”
Xu Wang: “……”
This question, imbued with deep sadness, silenced the male ghost and made the female ghost cry.
The air suddenly grew quiet, with only the eerie sound of the wind passing through the corridor.
Xu Wang seemed to think of something and quickly changed the topic. “Ghost Ge, do we have a bridge here?”
“A bridge?” The Money Counting Ghost looked at him, puzzled.
Just as Xu Wang was about to elaborate, like asking about a bridge over a stream in the back garden—any bridge would do—Wu Sheng suddenly pulled him back and held him firmly by the shoulder.
“It’s okay, Ghost Ge, he’s just talking nonsense. You don’t have to pay attention to him.” Wu Sheng smiled apologetically at the Money Counting Ghost.
The Money Counting Ghost, now having a good impression of this mountain ghost, nodded without suspicion and continued forward.
Xu Wang gave Wu Sheng a nudge with his elbow, not hard, but the meaning was clear—who’s talking nonsense?
Wu Sheng remained expressionless, only extending his arm in front of Xu Wang, pausing for two seconds, then quickly withdrawing it.
But it was enough for Xu Wang to see clearly. The badge manual opened by their advisor showed that the hint for the badge on 5/23 was “Bed Loving Ghost”.
Xu Wang was stunned; just now, it was “Bridge Ghost”!
To be precise, since ten days ago, when the hint for “Wall Ghost” changed to “Bridge Ghost”, the hint for the 5/23 badge hadn’t changed. Today, upon entering the level, he confirmed it again. Who would have thought that in just a few minutes, a team would have found the badge?!
No team could be that efficient. The only explanation was that a team had incredible luck, encountering the flashing ghost as soon as they entered the mansion. They might have been clueless when they got the badge.
Regardless, it was indeed an oversight on their part.
A tinge of annoyance crossed his mind, and the hand on his shoulder tightened, followed by a light sigh from Wu Sheng.
Xu Wang heard five words in that sigh—Can’t do it without me.
He glanced at Wu Sheng reluctantly, pouting—Alright, I was careless.
Wu Sheng smiled, his lips curving in contentment.
Xu Wang narrowed his eyes at him—Can you take your hand off now?
Wu Sheng raised his eyebrows, puzzled—Huh?
Xu Wang: “……”
Were the previous eight hundred sentences communicated through looks, but this one he couldn’t understand?!
Unbeknownst to them, Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin had fallen behind the team captain and advisor. They saw the badge manual displayed by the advisor and knew the prompt had changed. At the same time, they watched the whole scene of “communicating through looks + flirting”.
Kuang Jinxin watched with amusement.
Qian Ai watched with righteous indignation—This is what they call a mad love affair at public expense!
Passing through the corridor and two small courtyards, the four companions and one ghost finally arrived at a council hall. The Money Counting Ghost asked them to wait outside and went in first. In less than two minutes, he returned, saying the boss agreed to meet them.
The four followed the ghost into the council hall.
The hall wasn’t large, with a row of ghosts on each side, all maintaining their tragic appearances from before death. Some had eyeballs hanging by a thread, others’ jaws torn open, unable to close again. Yet, they were all drinking tea or smoking, each with their own style, all like bosses.
But the real boss was naturally seated in the foremost position, at the head.
He was a gaunt middle-aged man with thick eyebrows and big eyes, who must have had a cheerful and kind appearance in life. But now, his face was the color of death, bluish-purple, with a bullet hole in his forehead, piercing through his head. From the front, one could see the wall behind him through the bullet hole.
As the four entered, all eyes turned to them.
The previously noisy council hall fell silent. Being stared at by so many ghosts, the nerves of the four companions instantly tensed.
The Money Counting Ghost respectfully said, “Boss, these are the four new ghosts. The one with only his head left is the Flying Head Ghost, the one with an extra severed hand is the Severed Hand Ghost, the one with a shadow is the Shadow Ghost, and the one with a dashing appearance is the Mountain Ghost.”
Xu Wang, Qian Ai, Kuang Jinxin: “……”
Is it necessary to be so obvious about your preference?
The Bullet Hole Ghost slightly tilted his head, examining the four of them, and then asked the Money Counting Ghost, “Have they been checked?”
“Rest assured, they’ve all been checked,” the Money Counting Ghost replied. “The cause of death is clear, and their conditions are reasonable, with nothing suspicious.”
The Bullet Hole Ghost’s face showed no expression, and it was unclear whether he believed it or not, but after a moment of silence, he finally said softly, “I happen to need some new faces. Xiao Qian, you’ve done well with this matter.”
The Money Counting Ghost, not often praised, shrank his neck and shyly smiled at the compliment, creating an almost beautiful scene.
The Bullet Hole Ghost said nothing more, just gazing steadily at him.
After a few seconds of bewilderment, the Money Counting Ghost realized something and immediately excused himself, thoughtfully closing the council hall door from the outside.
As the door closed again, a heavy and oppressive atmosphere enveloped the council hall.
The vigilance in the hearts of the four companions slowly heightened. Advisor Wu even began to contemplate whether to flee or fight if things went south.
Beside the Bullet Hole Ghost, a “body” slowly appeared.
To be precise, it was a ghost with only a body and no head, dressed in blood-stained clothes full of wounds. The incision on its neck was uneven, as if the head had been removed with an ill-suited weapon after much effort.
As soon as the Headless Ghost appeared, a slightly sharp voice echoed in the hall. “To stay in the West Courtyard, you must contribute. Understand?”
Compared to the Bullet Hole Ghost, this Headless Ghost didn’t exert as much oppressive force. As soon as it appeared, the Bullet Hole Ghost leaned back, leaving it in charge. Clearly, this was a strategist or advisor of sorts.
The four companions understood that the boss wouldn’t personally explain the tasks in detail to the lower ranks, so a spokesperson was necessary. But… How could this headless figure convey sound? Such unscientific phenomena were really worrying!
“Ahem,” Xu Wang said, forcing himself to ignore the source of the voice. “I understand contributing, but I’m not quite clear on what exactly we need to do…”
The Headless Ghost spread its hands as if to start a lecture, while the sharp voice overhead patiently explained the mission.
In this eerie scenario of disembodied communication, the four companions learned their mission background. “This old house is divided into the East and West Courtyards. The West Courtyard, where we are, is our territory, while the East Courtyard is the domain of the Heart Digging ghost. We have always wanted to move to the East Courtyard, but the Heart Digging Ghost won’t yield an inch…”
“Excuse me. May I ask a question?” Xu Wang timidly interrupted.
The Headless Ghost said, “Speak.”
“The West Courtyard seems quite nice, spacious and open, with dead trees and a gloomy wind.” Xu Wang genuinely wondered. “Why do we have to move to the East Courtyard?”
“You don’t understand,” the Headless Ghost snorted. “The feng shui of the East Courtyard is a hundred—a thousand times better!”
“But…” Xu Wang glanced over the ghosts with missing eyeballs, torn jaws, severed hands and feet, and finally at the one a bullet hole in their foreheads and the one with a missing head, earnestly asking, “Are we still so particular about feng shui in our state?”
The Bullet Hole Ghost frowned.
The Headless Ghost immediately scolded on behalf of the boss. “Since ancient times, ghost energy comes from the east. Without residing in the east, how can we dominate the world of ghosts!”
Xu Wang, Wu Sheng, Qian Ai, and Kuang Jinxin, who had only heard of “ascending to heaven in the west”: “……”
Indeed, there’s knowledge everywhere, regardless of the realm of the living or the dead.
“So… how can we help?” Xu Wang quickly asked the key question, afraid that continuing the conversation would reveal more knowledge about the ghost world, which was hard for him to keep up with.
The sharp voice above didn’t answer, but the Headless Ghost suddenly walked down.
Watching a headless body approach wasn’t a pleasant experience. The four companions unconsciously huddled together, seeking a bit of human warmth from each other.
The Headless Ghost stopped in front of Xu Wang, and the sharp voice above said, “Hold out your hand.”
Xu Wang complied.
A small paper packet was placed in his palm.
“This is Soul Extinguishing Powder,” the Headless Ghost said. “Your task is to infiltrate the East Courtyard, find the Ghost Spring, and pour the powder into the spring.”
Xu Wang looked at the small paper packet in his hand, bewildered. “And then what? What will happen?”
“The Ghost Spring is the source of ghost energy for all the ghosts in the East Courtyard. Once it’s destroyed, all the ghosts in the East Courtyard will vanish.”
Xu Wang felt a bit remorseful. “Isn’t that a bit harsh…”
The Headless Ghost turned and walked back to the boss’s side.
The Bullet Hole Ghost said quietly, “Carry out the mission, or I’ll eat you right now.”
“The flying head ghost is mine,” the sharp voice quickly interjected. “I just happen to need a head.”
Qian Ai: “……”
It’s one thing to fear ghosts stealing, but another to fear them coveting you!
With the conversation reaching this point, Xu Wang knew they had no choice but to accept the mission. Or rather, from the moment they spoke with the Money Counting Ghost, they were destined for this task.
“We’ll take it,” Xu Wang lifted his head.
“Ding——”
[Cheat Sheet]: [Mission] Infiltrate the East Courtyard, find the Ghost Spring, and pour in the Soul Extinguishing Powder!
Without looking, the four companions knew what their fate would be…
Not only did they have to conceal their human identity to survive in the ghost mansion, but they also had to hide their West Courtyard identity to survive in the East Courtyard and seize the opportunity to poison. This wasn’t just a double agent situation, it was a triple agent dilemma!
……
The Headless Ghost personally escorted them to a very concealed moon gate in the inner courtyard.
“Beyond this gate is the East Courtyard.”
“Thanks, Headless Ge.” Qian Ai was eager to get rid of this ghost who was eyeing his head. “We’ll be careful. Take your time leaving.”
The Headless Ghost didn’t move.
Just as Qian Ai was wondering, the Headless Ghost suddenly cupped his head with his hands!
Being held by a headless body was too much for Qian Ai. He was so frightened that his hair stood on end, and he let out a loud scream that could have pierced the night sky.
The Headless Ghost was startled too. “What are you howling for!”
Qian Ai’s teeth chattered. “Why, why are you grabbing my head!”
The Headless Ghost replied, “Maybe it will be mine soon. I’m just admiring it in advance.”
Qian Ai fought the urge to punch. “…..”
The Headless Ghost released his hand and sighed.
“……” What kind of ghost admires a head and then sighs!
Having said everything that needed to be said and having looked at the head, the Headless Ghost left without further attachment.
Wu Sheng suddenly called out to him, asking, “Headless Ge, you’ve been a ghost for a long time and have a lot of experience. Do you know of a type of ghost called a ‘Loveseat Ghost’?”
The three companions quieted down, knowing their advisor was probing for clues about the badge.
“A Bed Loving Ghost?” The Headless Ghost shook its head, but since it had no head to shake, it just swayed its body. “Never heard of it.”
Wu Sheng asked further, “What about a ghost that lingers around beds? Is there any ghost that particularly likes staying in bed?”
The Headless Ghost’s sharp voice suddenly became suggestive. “If you put it that way, of course, there are such ghosts. The Flirtatious Ghost, ‘dying beneath a peony flower, remaining a playboy even in death.’ They cling to beds they like and refuse to leave, endlessly whining and moaning, haha…”
When Lu Yiyao finished work and returned home, it was already midnight.
Initially, when he first thought about changing careers, he imagined countless times that being a boss meant having control over his time; as long as he increased his work efficiency, having a regular nine-to-five schedule without any social engagements seemed very natural. However, once he actually became the boss, he realized it wasn’t the case at all.
When he was an artist, his rest was determined by the filming schedule or appearances. Whether it was early starts or working through the night, there was always a clear end to the day, and once work was over, he could instantly switch off and relax completely. But now, when the end of the workday was up to him, he found that there was always more work to be done. Once one thing was handled, another arose, and even when some issues couldn’t be immediately resolved, he had to keep them in mind and plan step by step for their eventual resolution.
As a result, he became the last person to leave the office every night, often thinking “it’s about time to leave” several times before actually leaving.
Recently, he had been consistently leaving work around midnight, mostly thanks to Ran Lin. After observing for two months that his departure times were erratic, ranging from 10 p.m. to 3 a.m., his lover implemented a series of alarm reminders on his phone, a tactic Ran Lin had honed over the years.
So, for the past week, his departure process went like this:
At ten o’clock, the phone alarm would ring, signaling it was about time.
At eleven o’clock, another alarm, suggesting it was time to start packing up.
And at midnight, the final alarm, indicating it was time to head home.
Therefore, when the third alarm rang, it was the time he felt most uplifted.
In October, <Youth of Wuling> was set to start filming, and Yao Hong specially cleared Ran Lin’s entire September to allow him to focus fully on understanding the script. So these days, Lu Yiyao had something special to look forward to every day when he returned home.
The feeling of having someone waiting at home was very comforting.
After starting to semi-live together with Ran Lin, Lu Yiyao dug out an old car from his father’s villa’s garage, one whose style and color were so nondescript it was nearly invisible on the street. Boss Lu was very pleased with this low-profile, almost invisible mode of transportation.
Perhaps due to encountering happy events, Lu Yiyao felt the moon looked particularly beautiful that night. After parking the car in the garage, he took a moment to look up at it before using his fingerprint to unlock the door.
The click of the lock was clear and pleasant in the quiet night. As he opened the door, the bright light from the living room spilled out, yet the house was silent. Lu Yiyao instantly knew that someone had fallen asleep waiting for him.
He entered the foyer, quietly closed the door behind him, changed shoes almost silently, and walked into the living room. As expected, he saw his lover lying on the sofa, sound asleep, tightly clutching an open script to his chest.
Lu Yiyao turned off the bright living room lights and switched on a dim night light before crouching next to the sofa. In the dim and soft light, he quietly watched the face so close to him.
Ran Lin’s lips were slightly parted, breathing evenly and long, with a faint smile as if enjoying a pleasant dream.
Lu Yiyao couldn’t resist and gently stole a kiss. He was as gentle as possible, but the lover still stirred slightly, first frowning and then beginning to move restlessly, as if about to wake up.
But Lu Yiyao had intended to wake him up, although it happened sooner than expected. Nevertheless, he waited patiently for his lover to awaken.
Unexpectedly, Ran Lin, still frowning, didn’t wake up but instead brushed his lips with the back of his hand and continued to hug the script and sleep.
…Lu Yiyao felt somewhat rejected.
Annoyed, he stopped being gentle, silently stood up, undid his tie, took off his shirt, and then quietly removed the script from his lover’s arms, pressing down onto him.
The sofa immediately sank under the weight of the two people.
Ran Lin, sleeping soundly, was suddenly startled awake by the sensation of being “pressed by a ghost”, only to find a face close up. With the living room light dim, he didn’t have the composure to distinguish the face’s details and, out of fright, opened his mouth to scream—
“Mmph…”
Lu Yiyao, quick to act, covered his lover’s mouth and bit down on the other’s neck. The scream that was stuck in Ran Lin’s throat changed its tune.
Ran Lin was pinned down, unable to move or shout, left at the mercy of Lu Yiyao. Only after the other had his fill of kissing and caressing did he finally catch his breath to utter, “You… um…”
Instead of keeping his hand over his mouth, the other switched to sealing it with a kiss. Lu Yiyao’s kisses were both intense and lingering, causing Ran Lin to forget his initial intentions with each one. It felt like going with a diss to criticize a celebrity on their microblog, only to become a fan upon reading the posts, and then frantically supporting them in the end—a mix of frustration and peculiar pleasure.
Today was no different. When Lu Yiyao finally released his lips, Ran Lin, still catching his breath, asked in a daze, “You’re back?”
Charmed by his lover’s cute stupor, Lu Yiyao couldn’t bear to let go and continued to press down, murmuring, “What were you smiling about?”
Ran Lin was confused. “I wasn’t smiling…”
Lu Yiyao: “You were smiling in your sleep.”
Ran Lin’s thoughts slowly cleared, and glancing at the script on the floor, he recalled the remnants of his dream, and the joy from the dream returned, causing him to smile. “I dreamt I became a Movie Emperor.”
Lu Yiyao laughed, knowing that daydreams often lead to night dreams, but to be as unabashed and unpretentious as Ran Lin was particularly endearing. “Yeah, the Movie Emperor will definitely be yours.”
Ran Lin had expected Lu Yiyao to tease him, but instead, he got this affirmation. The statement seemed like it should have a backstory to make sense, so he asked curiously, “Why should it be mine? It’s just a wild dream.”
Lu Yiyao was taken aback by Ran Lin’s words, slightly propping himself up and blinking at his lover, realizing they might have been talking about different things in their daze.
“Didn’t you see the news?” Lu Yiyao decided to first clarify the situation seriously.
Ran Lin was completely clueless. “What news? I’ve been reading the script all day.”
As expected.
Lu Yiyao couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time. So, it wasn’t that Ran Lin’s dreams were influenced by his thoughts during the day, but that he had a premonition!
“The list of nominees for the XX Film Festival was released today.” Lu Yiyao felt destined to be the harbinger of good news. “You’ve been nominated for Best Actor.”
“…Me?!” Ran Lin was stunned for a few seconds before he could voice his disbelief.
Lu Yiyao was very pleased with this reaction, which gave him a sense of achievement, so he casually dropped another bomb. “And me too.”
This time, Ran Lin was utterly shocked. “Really?!”
Lu Yiyao continued, “And Gu Jie.”
Ran Lin was speechless. “……”
Lu Yiyao added, “And Zhang Beichen.”
Ran Lin quipped, “Is the director of the Drifting Group the chairman of the film festival jury or what…”
Having had his fun and delivered the good news, Lu Yiyao contentedly went to take a shower, leaving Ran Lin sitting alone in the living room, scrolling through Weibo to gauge public opinion.
At this point, the controversy over whether Di Jiangtao was a lead actor had vanished, and the trending topic “Feeling sorry for Xia Xinran” was glaringly displayed. Ran Lin initially worried that something had happened to Xia Xinran and clicked in anxiously, only to find out… Ran Lin just felt sorry for the needless worry he put himself through.
Besides Xia Xinran, “National First Love Drifting Story” also trended.
The long-missed words stirred up indescribable emotions in Ran Lin, and before he knew it, he had clicked into the hot search. The entire vibe of the hot search was like this—
[Several Paparazzi Return From Ancient Times: Four guests from National First Love Drifting Story jointly nominated for Best Actor at XX Film Festival 😮! Four out of five people were nominated, occupying four out of five spots, both the nomination rate and the share reaching 80%! Which other show can achieve this! National First Love Drifting Story, the cradle of Movie Kings!…[View full text]]
[Li Bai On The Boat: Do you want to make a breakthrough in your acting career? Do you want to firmly establish yourself as a serious actor? Do you want to be nominated for Best Actor at a young age? Join National First Love Drifting Story! No charges for two months of filming, all expenses covered, and you even get paid, either daily or seasonally. Post-filming distribution not included, but the employment rate for “serious actors” from this variety show is as high as 80%! What are you waiting for!]
The marketing accounts seized the opportunity, and the humorists added their touch, resulting in countless people flocking to the main subject’s page. Unexpectedly, the official Weibo of the long-silent Drifting Story was still maintained and quickly caught up with the trend—
[We are seriously considering 😮💨 //@Daily Hair-Combing: How about a second season? The domestic film industry needs you 😮💨 @National First Love Drifting Story]
Naturally, netizens were happy to see such interactions. Although nothing was confirmed yet, the buzz might rekindle the television station’s confidence in the program, and given the current popularity, sponsors should be easy to find. Hence, the comments section was very active, with occasional mentions of the first season’s participants.
After seeing Zhang Beichen’s name for who knows how many times, Ran Lin followed the mentions to his Weibo, not sure what to feel, perhaps just genuinely curious about how he views the joint nomination.
However, there was no recent activity on Zhang Beichen’s Weibo, the latest post being a retweet of an event advertisement dated July 2nd.
Ran Lin stared at the date, zoning out.
This meant that Zhang Beichen hadn’t updated his Weibo for almost two months.
Ran Lin scrolled further down and noticed that since February, around the time Zhang Beichen was hospitalized, the frequency of his posts began to slow down, from every one or two days to every two or three days, then to every three or four days, a week, two weeks… and now, two months without a peep.
Zhang Beichen’s hospital stay wasn’t long, and he quickly informed everyone of his discharge through a post with a selfie, looking seemingly fine. But Ran Lin recalled carefully that after that, Zhang Beichen was hardly seen on any screen, big or small, with very little news coverage. <Mint Green> was released in February, and it’s now the end of August, more than half a year. The time might not seem long, but such silence is quite unusual for a popular male star who just finished a major IP project with momentum on his side.
After Lu Yiyao finished his shower and dried his hair, he saw Ran Lin still scrolling through his phone. Just as he was about to suggest that Ran Lin rest, he noticed something was off with his expression and immediately went over. “What’s wrong?”
Ran Lin looked up, not quite catching it. “Huh?”
Lu Yiyao sat down beside him, gently rubbing his forehead with his thumb. “I was asking what you’re looking at. You seem deeply troubled.”
“Zhang Beichen’s Weibo.” Ran Lin took Lu Yiyao’s hand off and naturally intertwined their fingers. “He seems to have suddenly disappeared. It’s a bit strange. Like today’s nomination, even if he doesn’t want to ride the wave of popularity, at least he should share it on Weibo to let his fans know he’s been nominated.”
“……” Lu Yiyao hadn’t expected to hear Zhang Beichen’s name and hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say.
Ran Lin knew Lu Yiyao’s expressions too well, and since he wasn’t making any effort to hide his feelings, he immediately guessed the gist. “Do you know what’s going on?”
The news about Zhang Beichen, Lu Yiyao felt, wasn’t of much significance to him and Ran Lin. He had inquired only to be prepared and not get blindsided again. But what Yao Hong told him and what he’d heard from attending social events in the last two months complicated his feelings, making it even less necessary to share with Ran Lin, only adding to the sighs.
However, not speaking is one thing; being asked directly is another. Now that Ran Lin sensed something was off about Zhang Beichen’s situation, withholding the truth would only make him worry more.
“It’s like this,” Lu Yiyao slowly began. “The last time I saw Zhang Beichen, I felt something was off about his state, and since you told me he followed that boss, I had Hong Jie help me look into that Mr. Qin…”
“And then?” Ran Lin didn’t expect Lu Yiyao to have done so much behind the scenes.
“Hong Jie is familiar with that Mr. Qin, so it didn’t take much effort to find out. Zhang Beichen indeed followed him, and <Mint Green> was indeed a project Mr. Qin got for him. But as for why Zhang Beichen was in the state we last saw him, Hong Jie couldn’t find anything concrete. However, it must be related to Mr. Qin because, ever since being with him, Zhang Beichen has practically had no other social life and nothing unusual in his work either. So, the only one who could have had such a big impact on his mood is Mr. Qin.”
Ran Lin didn’t understand. “If it’s because of Mr. Qin, can’t they just break up? With Zhang Beichen’s current fame, he doesn’t need to rely on anyone and could have plenty of resources.”
“It’s not as simple as him wanting to break up and being able to.” Lu Yiyao sighed lightly. “Mr. Qin has sponsored several artists before—some famous, some not—all were lavished with resources while with him and completely ignored after splitting up. But without exception, it was Mr. Qin who initiated the breakups, meaning if Zhang Beichen wants to leave, it’s only possible if Mr. Qin agrees.”
“But he’s the one with the legs; if he really wants to leave, can’t he just go?” Ran Lin felt his logic was sound, considering the entertainment industry isn’t a lawless land, even such relationships must follow the rules, right?
“He indeed can’t be stopped physically, but he can be attacked and retaliated against,” Lu Yiyao explained.
Ran Lin began to understand. “You mean…”
Lu Yiyao nodded. “I heard it last month at a social event. They didn’t mention Zhang Beichen specifically, just talked about a little star Mr. Qin was sponsoring wanting to break up. It got ugly, and Mr. Qin had no choice but to let go, but not without using his connections to basically blacklist the person.”
“So, he won’t attend the film festival award ceremony, even if nominated?” Ran Lin hadn’t expected it to be like this.
“He should attend the film festival,” Lu Yiyao said. “It involves the reputation of <Mint Green>.”
Ran Lin understood what Lu Yiyao meant. <Mint Green> was a project Mr. Qin landed using his clout, and it wouldn’t look good for the entire team if the lead actor were absent from the awards ceremony, even if <Mint Green> had already finished its run.
“Stop worrying,” Lu Yiyao comforted, stroking his lover’s hair. “Everyone chooses their own path. If you get blisters from walking, the pain is yours to bear.”
……
In late September, the film festival opened, and a few days later, the award ceremony was held as scheduled. Essentially the closing ceremony of the festival, stars walked the red carpet and entered the venue to witness the award distribution.
Ran Lin arrived at the venue with Lu Yiyao but was separated at the red carpet waiting area as <Dyeing Fire> and <Splitting Moon>, both nominated for Best Picture at the festival, meant the entire teams walked the red carpet together.
Gu Jie, in a black suit, was unusually subdued and gentlemanly. His first words to Ran Lin were, “Why so late!”
Ran Lin intended to greet the director first, but seeing He Guan engrossed in conversation, he teased his friend instead. “Should I take it that you’ve been eager to see me?”
Gu Jie bluntly retorted, “I was worried you’d be late and hold our team back.”
Ran Lin rolled his eyes, about to retort, when he saw Jiang Yi being brought over by a staff member, clearly just arriving.
“Long time no see,” Jiang Yi greeted in a sweet, lovely white dress, looking around for the director. Like Ran Lin, she gave up greeting the busy director and joined the casual chat instead.
Jiang Yi was nominated for Best Supporting Actress this time, so Ran Lin directly wished her luck. “I think you have a shot tonight.”
Jiang Yi looked at him for a while before reluctantly replying, “I think you’re a long shot tonight.”
Gu Jie, misunderstanding her intent, laughed. “Good insight.”
Jiang Yi, realizing Gu Jie’s misunderstanding, clarified, “You? You’re even more of a long shot.”
Even the thick-skinned Gu Jie felt the sting of such a direct blow. Ran Lin laughed heartily, then asked, “So, who do you think will win Best Actor?”
Jiang Yi looked around, perhaps cautious of being overheard, and whispered, “Teacher Wang or Lu Yiyao.”
Teacher Wang was an old, highly respected actor in the industry, already a previous winner of the festival’s Best Actor and still a favorite to win this time.
“Ah…”
Gu Jie sighed heavily, about to complain about Jiang Yi’s lack of loyalty to their team, when he heard Ran Lin say—
“I also fancy Lu Yiyao’s chances.”
Gu Jie realized sadly he was outnumbered… in this superficial world that judges by appearances!
Ran Lin smiled, intending to continue the teasing, when he suddenly caught sight of someone in the distance looking their way, freezing his smile.
Gu Jie, noticing Ran Lin’s change in demeanor, followed his gaze and understood immediately.
Zhang Beichen.
He was with the <Mint Green> team, but while the director and other actors were engaged in conversation, he stood quietly apart, as if in his own space, out of place with his peers.
Their eyes met across the distance.
On Zhang Beichen’s side, there was hardly any emotional fluctuation—only a detached gaze toward the two of them. His eyes were as calm as a still pool, giving the impression that his look was merely coincidental, with no connection to whether they knew each other or had any rapport.
Ran Lin and Gu Jie were simultaneously surprised—Zhang Beichen had lost a lot of weight. Though his well-tailored suit made him look upright, a side glance revealed a thinner silhouette, and the change in his face was quite obvious.
Unhealthy thinness and weight loss from exercise are two different things. The latter, no matter how much weight is lost, retains firm facial lines due to continuous exercise. The former, however, leads to relaxed facial muscles and an unmistakably haggard look. Perhaps it’s not true haggardness, makeup may cover dark circles, but the spiritlessness is evident.
And that was precisely how Zhang Beichen appeared.
Zhang Beichen was the first to avert his gaze, while Gu Jie and Ran Lin continued to look at him for a while longer, feeling somewhat complicated.
“Is he okay?” Gu Jie asked directly. “Why has he lost so much weight?”
Ran Lin didn’t know how to explain to his friend, feeling it was too difficult to make Gu Jie understand the complexity of same-sex sponsorship relationships, especially those that end badly, even to the extent of using connections for retribution.
“Hey—”
Suddenly, someone burst in from behind, slapping a hand heavily on each of their shoulders.
Ran Lin and Gu Jie jumped, turning around to see Xia Xinran grinning with a brilliant smile.
“Miss me—?”
At that moment, no one dared to say no, knowing well Xia Xinran’s fierce nature. So, Ran Lin immediately nodded but was genuinely surprised. “How come you’re here?”
Xia Xinran rolled his eyes. “If only nominees could walk the red carpet, it’d be quite dull.”
Ran Lin agreed. There were only a few nominated films, and the count of nominated lead and supporting actors and actresses could easily be tallied, hardly filling even a tenth of the large venue. The XX Film Festival was a grand affair in the domestic entertainment circle, so Xia Xinran’s invitation made perfect sense.
But his presence in this particular spot was a bit irregular.
“Who are you walking the red carpet with later? Don’t wander around and mess up the arrangement,” Gu Jie was quick to catch onto their friend’s quirks.
“Mind your own walk, and you won’t have to worry about me,” Xia Xinran retorted, initially wanting to glare at Gu Jie but his gaze drifted, catching sight of Zhang Beichen. Like Ran Lin and Gu Jie, he was momentarily stunned by the change in Zhang Beichen.
But before he could ponder further, staff members came to organize everyone to enter in sequence—the red carpet show had begun.
As important nominees, Ran Lin, Gu Jie, and He Guan were scheduled to enter later, so they waited quite a while before it was their turn.
Jiang Yi and He Guan walked in the middle, with Ran Lin and Gu Jie on either side, entering the venue together. Amidst the relentless shutter clicks, the group reached the center of attention, posing for the media before moving to the elegant signature wall to leave their autographs.
As they approached the signature wall, the main creative teams of <Mint Green> and <Split Moon> made their entrances one after another. The succession of popular films’ teams brought the red carpet show to a climax. When Ran Lin and his group reached the signature wall, the previous guests hadn’t finished signing, so they waited their turn.
Unexpectedly, during this wait, Zhang Beichen and Lu Yiyao also arrived with their respective film’s teams. From the media closest to the signature wall, someone shouted, “How about a photo together for the Drifting Story group?”
The suggestion quickly gained support, as everyone loves a catchy story to write about.
Ran Lin and Gu Jie had finished signing and were technically free to leave, but upon hearing the photographers’ suggestion, He Guan and Jiang Yi naturally assumed they were willing to participate and waited alongside them.
It wasn’t exactly against their will; it was just a photo, so after exchanging a glance, Gu Jie and Ran Lin agreed to wait for Lu Yiyao and Zhang Beichen to finish signing and join them.
Zhang Beichen was the first to approach. His team, due to the larger number of people, had moved on ahead into the venue, leaving him to take the photo with his “brothers”.
Ran Lin and Gu Jie stood side by side, facing the cameras, with Ran Lin closer to the signature wall. So, when Zhang Beichen approached, he stood near Ran Lin but not shoulder to shoulder, maintaining a distance of about a hand’s breadth and without making eye contact, directly facing the media.
Lu Yiyao came after, and to avoid being too close to the signature wall and hindering others coming to sign, he had to move to Gu Jie’s side.
Finally positioned, some impatient photographers had already clicked their shutters, but there were always those meticulous reporters seeking perfection. “Come a little closer—”
Hearing this, Gu Jie cooperated fully, immediately draping his arms over the shoulders of Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin, one on each side, drawing them close in an intimate huddle.
The moment Gu Jie pulled him in, Ran Lin instinctively glanced at Zhang Beichen, who still stood in his original spot. Initially just an arm’s length away, the distance between them had now doubled due to Ran Lin being drawn closer to Gu Jie, creating a gap so wide it was as if Zhang Beichen could be completely cropped out of the picture.
Ran Lin found this strange; it wasn’t typical of Zhang Beichen, who, even in the face of confrontation, maintained a public persona of deep brotherhood with the Drifting Group on social media or in public.
Some photographers noticed this too, thinking Zhang Beichen was unaware, and urged him to move closer. Ran Lin wasn’t sure if it was just his perception, but he thought he saw a hint of hesitation in Zhang Beichen’s otherwise steady gaze.
However, the moment didn’t allow for much hesitation. Regardless of their internal dynamics, being portrayed as discordant would do no one any favors. With this in mind, Ran Lin simply raised his arm and also wrapped it around Zhang Beichen’s shoulder.
The moment he did, Ran Lin could distinctly feel Zhang Beichen stiffen, but he still pulled him in with determination. Finally, all four were fully “shoulder to shoulder.”
The photographers were satisfied with the arrangement, and the sound of shutters continued until a staff member urged them to move on, concluding the group photo. As Ran Lin retracted his arm, he noticed a distinct change in Zhang Beichen’s expression, different from the indifference he had shown in the waiting area. Though he couldn’t discern the exact emotion, it was evident enough that when their eyes met, Zhang Beichen quickly turned away and briskly walked into the venue.
Ran Lin felt as if he had read a hint of bitterness in Zhang Beichen’s fleeting gaze, but the moment was too brief to be sure.
Inside the venue, all the teams of the nominated films were arranged in the same area, effectively a “waiting area” for potential winners. Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao were seated in front and behind each other, but slightly offset, allowing Ran Lin to shamelessly ask He Guan if they could switch seats as he was directly facing Lu Yiyao.
The journalists were very satisfied, and the sound of shutters was incessant. It wasn’t until the staff came over to urge them that the four finally ended their “group photo”. When Ran Lin withdrew his arm, he noticed that Zhang Beichen’s expression was completely different from the indifferent one he had in the waiting area before. Although he couldn’t distinguish what the emotion was, the fluctuation was obvious. So obvious that as soon as their eyes met, Zhang Beichen turned his face away and quickly entered the venue.
Director He was unaware of the reason for his leading actor’s seat change, but he didn’t have the curiosity to ask and agreed immediately. Thus, what was originally Director He, Gu Jie, Jiang Yi, and Ran Lin became Ran Lin, Gu Jie, Jiang Yi, and Director He.
After Ran Lin reseated himself, Jiang Yi, across Gu Jie, reproached him, “Do you dislike sitting next to me that much?”
Ran Lin was speechless and could only say, “I think the chair the director sat in might have better luck.”
Jiang Yi was speechless, and Gu Jie directly criticized, “That’s all feudal superstition. Teacher Lu, what do you think?”
Only after a friend reminded him did Ran Lin realize that Lu Yiyao had turned around at some point and was smiling as he watched them bicker.
“I think it’s fine, just sit here,” Lu Yiyao answered.
Gu Jie was annoyed. “I shouldn’t have asked you. When it comes to Ran Lin, you just have no stance.”
Lu Yiyao blinked innocently without agreeing or disagreeing. Ran Lin lowered his eyes, sneaking in joy like a child who got away with cheating on a test.
As the doors of the venue closed and the noise gradually subsided until it was quiet as a graveyard, the award ceremony finally began.
The lights dimmed, leaving only dazzling lights and shadows on the stage. Dancers slowly appeared and danced to the music, taking the audience into a dreamlike world.
After the song and dance, the audience erupted into thunderous applause, and the elegant host took the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, dear audience friends, good evening…”
This was Ran Lin’s first time attending such an award ceremony, and he watched and listened intently.
The first award to be presented was for Best Supporting Actress. Ran Lin glanced at Jiang Yi and could clearly feel her tension.
The two award presenters on stage were humorous, but the nominated actors couldn’t really relax. Ran Lin glanced at Jiang Yi, and though she was smiling, her unconsciously clenched hands showed her nervousness.
As the big screen began to show clips of the nominated actresses’ performances along with accompanying voiceovers, “Nominated for Best Supporting Actress are Feng Pei in <The Day You Left>… Zhou Xiaomeng in <The Sky Grows Dark>… Jiang Yi in <Dyeing Fire>…”
When the clips ended, the female presenter picked up the envelope and announced the result—
“Feng Pei!”
The camera immediately focused on Feng Pei for a close-up. The actress stood up to accept congratulations from her colleagues and then slowly went onstage. As the presenter announced the winner, Ran Lin instinctively looked at Jiang Yi and noticed that, although there was a fleeting disappointment in her eyes, there was more resignation and… relief. Clearly, for Jiang Yi, the uncertainty of “hanging in there” was more unbearable than not winning at all.
Ran Lin looked away, his heart settling down, realizing that the girl was more open-minded than he thought.
Although he felt that Jiang Yi deserved the award for her performance in <Dyeing Fire>, just being nominated was already an affirmation for her. Objectively speaking, all five nominated actresses had outstanding performances in their respective films, and who would ultimately win really depended on fate.
As Feng Pei finished her acceptance speech, the award ceremony continued.
Best Supporting Actor, Best Newcomer, Best Screenwriter…
The further the ceremony progressed, the more prestigious the awards became. Ran Lin’s heart rose again until it was time for the Best Actor award!
The presenters were the Best Actor from the previous year and a female actress who had won in earlier years. The handsome man and beautiful woman worked well together, amusing the audience and cleverly leading into the Best Actor award.
Clips for the Best Actor nominees played on the big screen—
“Nominated for Best Actor are Gu Jie in <Dyeing Fire>… Lu Yiyao in <Split Moon>… Ran Lin in <Dyeing Fire>… Zhang Beichen in <Mint Green>…”
Ran Lin watched as the performance clips of the nominees were played one after the other, his heart reciting Lu Yiyao’s name from start to finish.
He hoped Lu Yiyao would win, wishing for a perfect end to his acting career.
“The Best Actor is…”
Ran Lin’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest with the presenter’s pause.
“Lu Yiyao!”
As soon as the words were spoken, Ran Lin and Gu Jie stood up even faster than Lu Yiyao, who was beginning to clap. The fellow colleagues, taken aback, thought the two were too eager to win and had made a mistake.
But, after accepting congratulations from his crew on either side, Lu Yiyao stood up and turned directly back.
Gu Jie, who was waiting for a while, was the first to hug him. “Congratulations—”
The judging panel’s praise for Lu Yiyao began to play in the background. “His performance is natural and detailed, portraying a character with split personality troubles…”
Gu Jie sincerely congratulated his friend, not bothering to lower his voice, but his voice was drowned out by the background praise, only audible to those nearby.
His hug was strong and ended quickly, in just a second or two. After Gu Jie stepped back, Lu Yiyao looked at Ran Lin, smiling leisurely.
From the moment of winning, the camera had been on Lu Yiyao, his every move, every smile clear on the big screen.
But what of it.
At this moment, they were rightly justified.
Ran Lin stepped forward and hugged Lu Yiyao tightly, using all his strength.
No need for congratulations. Everything was understood just holding him like this.
Kinky Translations 