Director Zhong, who was always righteous, kind, and wise — the “soul-calming lamp” of the cast and crew — what was he doing to his good friend Luo Huai?

“AAAAAHHHHHH!” Pang Xinhao screamed as he charged straight toward the camera.

After more than a month of filming, not only was he no longer afraid of facing the camera, he had actually begun to feel an instinctive sense of safety whenever he saw one.

This was mainly because Zhong Jiudao, in order to help Pang Xinhao, always stood beside the camera whenever Pang filmed. Over time, Pang Xinhao’s brain developed the chain reaction of: “camera = Director Zhong = filming is finally over = safety.”

Forget being afraid of cameras—now whenever he saw one, his body would reflexively relax, and his movements became as natural as could be.

The treatment had worked so well that when filming scenes with human actors later on, Qi Wanlian no longer needed to personally possess him to help his acting. Pang Xinhao could perform excellently on his own.

He himself had once experienced a period of explosive fame, so he understood very well how some people’s moral boundaries become much lower when they’re swollen with success. Therefore, he portrayed this type of character—a man who falls in love with every woman he meets while still emotionally attached to the previous ones, desperately wanting to juggle relationships with two, three, four, even five women at once—with astonishing precision.

On top of that, he had previously gone through a period of hardship and decline. Having experienced life’s dramatic ups and downs, and seen all the warmth and coldness of human relationships and the harsh realities of society, his acting carried a trace of clarity and pitifulness.

He knew he was a scumbag. He had betrayed the feelings of several girls, and he hated himself for it.

But “admit mistakes humbly, refuse to correct them firmly” was his guiding principle. No matter how many times he blamed himself, the moment he saw Qi Wanlian in a white qipao, looking youthful and delicate as she played Fu Yue’s innocent “white lotus” younger sister, the movie’s Ah Hao fell all over again.

White-Qi Wanlian told Ah Hao that her mother and older sister seemed to have fallen ill and become terrifying, and she hoped Ah Hao could take her away from this place.

Faced with such a pitiful and delicate young girl, Ah Hao naturally agreed without hesitation. And when Fu Yue attacked his girlfriend Xiao Yun and Qi Wanlian, he chose to shove Qi Wanlian out the door first before turning back to save his girlfriend.

He had wanted to save both of them, but unfortunately by then his girlfriend had already been dragged away by Fu Yue, leaving behind only a pool of bright red blood on the ground.

After enduring countless difficulties, Ah Hao finally escaped the villa together with Qi Wanlian. This part matched the original script, but afterward Zhong Jiudao made some modifications.

After leaving the villa, night had fallen. The moon was perfectly round. Ah Hao sat on the ground and burst into uncontrollable sobbing, saying that he had failed to bring Xiao Yun and Xiao Yan out alive and that he had let them down.

At that moment, Qi Wanlian gently embraced Ah Hao and softly said, “Don’t blame yourself anymore. If I gave you another chance, you’d save them, right?”

“Yes,” Ah Hao cried. “I loved them. I couldn’t bear for either of them to be hurt. If I had another chance, I’d treat them well and protect them.”

“Then alright. I’ll give you another chance.” White-Qi Wanlian smiled strangely.

The scene shifted. Qi Wanlian changed into black clothing and elderly makeup, resuming the same posture in which she had embraced Ah Hao. Her voice turned sinister: “Become my child. Stay with me.”

As she spoke, her hand sank into Ah Hao’s body, draining away all his life force, while she herself became youthful again.

Ah Hao died. His soul stared at his own dried-up, aged corpse, and only then did he realize that White-Qi Wanlian and Black-Qi Wanlian had been the same person from the very beginning. She was the only living person in the villa who still possessed a physical body, maintaining her youthful appearance by feeding on the life force of the living.

And those whose life force she absorbed would become bound by her forever, their souls trapped eternally within her villa, where she referred to them as her “children.”

Xiao Yue had never truly been her daughter. After being bullied by Xiao Yun and Xiao Yan and abandoned by the unfaithful Ah Hao, Xiao Yue came to this place known as the “House of Debauchery” and willingly offered up her life, begging Qi Wanlian to avenge her.

Now they would all remain here together—him and the three girls, along with the White-Qi Wanlian he had just fallen for. They could live here forever, happily, decadently, and fallen together.

Until their souls dispersed.

After Ah Hao’s death, he knew that he deserved his fate, but Xiao Luo was the only truly innocent person in all of this. He had to help Xiao Luo escape.

So Ah Hao’s spirit risked his very existence to attack Shen Leshan, waking Xiao Luo, who had already been knocked unconscious and prepared for skinning by Shen Leshan.

Ah Hao’s soul was devoured by Shen Leshan. Xiao Luo desperately ran for his life, but the villa was like a labyrinth. Every time he pushed open a front door, instead of leading outside, it simply brought him back into the villa once more.

Xiao Luo could not find the exit. Then the spirit of his girlfriend Xiao Yan appeared. Though her appearance was horrifying, she gently pointed out the direction of the exit for Xiao Luo.

Xiao Luo escaped alive. As he ran wildly outside, White-Qi Wanlian stood at the third-floor window of the villa, quietly watching his retreating figure—just as she had when they first entered the villa.

“Good!” Zhong Jiudao clapped his hands. “Once this scene is finished, the three of you will wrap filming!”

Xiao Yan, Xiao Yun, and Pang Xinhao all applauded together. Their contracts had stipulated three months, but they had completed all their scenes in just over fifty days. If any additional footage was needed during post-production, they would be invited back for reshoots.

Although they had finished filming, the production itself had not completely wrapped. Only the individual parts of the three human actors were finished. Next would come the special-effects scenes involving the ghosts and monsters. Those scenes would likely be filmed against green screens and have visual effects added later.

In addition, Luo Huai, as the sole survivor, still had some post-survival scenes left to shoot, so his wrap date would be a little later than the others'.

The three actors packed their luggage, and the next day Qian Duoqun would drive them away in his beat-up pickup truck.

On the night before they left, Zhong Jiudao gave each of them a large red envelope, claiming it was customary for actors playing the dead to receive one.

When they returned to their rooms and opened them, they discovered that each envelope contained fifty thousand yuan!

That amount went far beyond the scope of a normal red envelope. Xiao Yun and Xiao Yan were ordinary actors with modest salaries; this sum exceeded what they had earned from the entire film. Director Zhong was simply too generous!

When Pang Xinhao saw the money inside his envelope, he was so moved that he burst into tears. He had gained immensely from working on this film. He had overcome his greatest psychological obstacle and rebuilt his outlook on life, the world, and even love. He felt that he should be paying Director Zhong therapy fees and tuition, so how could he possibly accept such a large red envelope?

Pang Xinhao pulled one hundred yuan from the cash as a “calming red envelope” for playing a corpse. According to film industry custom, refusing it would be unlucky. As for the rest, he intended to return every cent. The production was already so poor; he absolutely could not let Director Zhong spend any more money.

Ever since being possessed by Qi Wanlian, Pang Xinhao had moved into a room next to Luo Huai's. Luo Huai's room was adjacent to Director Zhong's.

The moment Pang Xinhao opened his door, he saw Luo Huai standing in front of Director Zhong's room, waving his hands and saying: “N-No!”

“What do you mean, no? Come inside first and then talk!” Director Zhong ignored Luo Huai's struggles. Using his advantage in height and strength, he grabbed him and dragged him into the room, then firmly shut the door.

Pang Xinhao: “...”

Th-this...

What had he just witnessed?

Director Zhong, who was always righteous, kind, and wise; Director Zhong, the stabilizing pillar of the cast; what was he doing to his good friend Luo Huai?

At the time, Luo Huai's face had been bright red. He struggled desperately, yet Director Zhong still forcefully dragged him into the room. He looked extremely distressed.

Pang Xinhao had been classmates with Luo Huai for four years, and they had always been very close. Director Zhong, meanwhile, was his spiritual mentor, the person who had helped him overcome his psychological trauma and life's lowest point. If Director Zhong really intended to force himself on the innocent Luo Huai, what was he supposed to do?

Pang Xinhao fell into turmoil.

He clenched his fists painfully and imagined Luo Huai's helpless situation inside the room.

No!

Whether for Luo Huai's sake or Director Zhong's, he had to intervene.

He could save Luo Huai from danger while also pulling Director Zhong back from a path of no return. Even if the tall Director Zhong beat him black and blue, he had to do it! Besides, Director Zhong was poor and couldn't afford medical expenses, so surely he wouldn't dare hit too hard.

After struggling with himself for about ten minutes, Pang Xinhao finally rushed out and pounded fiercely on Director Zhong's door. “Director Zhong, come out! You dared drag someone in there, so why don't you dare come out?”

Inside the room, Luo Huai and Zhong Jiudao: “...”

“What is he yelling about?” Luo Huai said, blushing as he turned to open the door for Pang Xinhao.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Zhong Jiudao suddenly grabbed Luo Huai's hand, pressed his fingerprint onto the phone, unlocked it, opened the social media payment app, and accepted the one hundred thousand yuan transfer on his behalf.

The entire sequence flowed smoothly and seamlessly, giving Luo Huai no chance to resist.

Luo Huai became a little angry. First he glared at Zhong Jiudao, then turned to open the door and said to Pang Xinhao, who was still pounding on it: “What are you knocking for? Do you realize how important a thing you just interrupted?”

Pang Xinhao, still holding his hand in a knocking position: “...”

So... had Luo Huai been playing hard to get all along?

“Put away those thoughts in your head and go back to your room!” Luo Huai said.

“Oh.”

Pang Xinhao shrank his neck and slunk back to his room. He locked the door, crawled into bed, and pretended nothing had happened. While pretending to sleep, he actually fell asleep.

After Pang Xinhao left, Luo Huai shut the door and looked at his account balance with some irritation. “Director Zhong, how can you do this? I already told you I wouldn't tell anyone. I can't accept this money.”

Taking a deep breath, Zhong Jiudao tried to explain: “You've misunderstood. This money really is your acting fee.”

“I don't believe you. Where would you get that kind of money? The crew is so poor you're practically growing your own vegetables. Did you take the money meant for post-production and give it to me? If I accept this money, what will happen to the film afterward?”

Luo Huai genuinely felt heartbroken for the production.

Zhong Jiudao rubbed his forehead with a headache. It was true that he had used the budget originally intended for music to pay the actors—but wasn't the music free now?

Besides, the four human actors in this film had genuinely suffered. Every day they had been frightened by real ghosts, possessed by ghosts, tricked into rooms in the middle of the night, and nearly torn apart. Previously, he had been short on funds and could only scrape by, but now that he had some spare money, it was only right to give the actors some additional compensation.

The reason the others received fifty thousand while Luo Huai received one hundred thousand was because Luo Huai's contribution had been indispensable. He had used himself as bait to lure out a ghost, bringing Jiang Fen to Zhong Jiudao. Not only had this secured a composer for free, it had actually generated income.

That was right—Jiang Fen not only charged nothing, he could even provide money.

On the day Zhong Jiudao trapped Jiang Fen inside the computer, Jiang Fen cried bitterly and begged to be released. He also begged the powerful celestial master to protect him inside the villa. In exchange, he was willing to hand over full management rights to his music software app account. The account still generated income from play counts and advertising revenue, money that could be withdrawn.

Zhong Jiudao was not the kind of person who took advantage of others in their time of need. He didn't take the money from Jiang Fen's account. Instead, he agreed to spare him in exchange for Jiang Fen composing the score for their film.

Jiang Fen naturally agreed happily.

Zhong Jiudao immediately released him from the computer.

Only after releasing him did he discover that Jiang Fen was already on the verge of soul dissipation.

He had always been weak. Even while staying in his “home,” he had only been able to reply to Luo Huai's messages and lacked the ability to communicate with anyone else. Even when appearing in the real world, he could neither speak, manifest visibly, nor enter people's dreams.

After desperately running for his life through the villa earlier, Jiang Fen had used up quite a bit of soul power. Coupled with the repeated scares he had suffered, he was now finding it difficult even to maintain his soul form.

To protect the film’s future soundtrack, Zhong Jiudao could only open the window and use his own magical power to draw in the moon’s spiritual energy, helping Jiang Fen stabilize his soul body.

As he continued guiding the energy, he suddenly realized something was wrong.

Jiang Fen wasn't wearing any clothes.

Hugging his chest with both arms and curling himself up pitifully, Jiang Fen said, “Weren't those clothes burned together with my corpse?”

Zhong Jiudao replied, “...Ghosts normally get their clothes from items burned as offerings to them. The reason you don't have any clothes is that when everything was burned, your soul chose the computer instead of the clothes. To you, the computer is basically the equivalent of clothing!”

“Forget it. I'll burn you a set.” Zhong Jiudao sat down at the desk, pulled out a sheet of high-quality A4 paper, and began drawing clothes.

Because he used to draw storyboards for his own scripts, he had seriously studied art before and was quite skilled. Even Qi Wanlian, who was extremely picky about clothing, liked the outfits he designed. Drawing a casual set of clothes would only take a few minutes.

While he was drawing, Qian Duoqun knocked on the door from outside. “Director Zhong, open up. I need to talk to you.”

Zhong Jiudao glanced at Jiang Fen and saw that he was diligently absorbing moonlight by the window. It wouldn't be good to interrupt him right now. Besides, Old Qian already knew about ghosts, so it didn't matter if he saw him.

So Zhong Jiudao opened the door.

The moment he did, he was dumbfounded.

Qian Duoqun had brought Luo Huai with him.

“Xiao Luo said he got in touch with the composer you were looking for. He wanted to tell you earlier, but then you caught him sneaking snacks with some of the crew, and in the panic he forgot. Now he wanted to come tell you, but since you'd scolded him before, he felt a little embarrassed, so I brought him over... Huh? There's someone in your room?”

They saw a completely naked person standing by the window. When he noticed the two strangers outside the door, he let out a startled scream and, with a swish, dove straight into Zhong Jiudao's bedcovers, leaving only his head sticking out.

Having just finished absorbing the moonlight and regained the ability to manifest visibly, Jiang Fen realized someone had discovered he wasn't wearing clothes. Mortified, he hurriedly grabbed a blanket to cover himself.

Luo Huai's eyes immediately widened.

Turning his head away, he said, “Director Zhong, you're busy. I'll tell you about the composer tomorrow. It's late at night—sorry for disturbing your rest!”

After saying that, he covered his eyes and ran back to his room.

Zhong Jiudao: “…”

 

--

Author's Note:

Pang Xinhao: Director Zhong, who is always righteous, kind, and wise; Director Zhong, the cast's soul-calming lamp —what is he doing to his good friend Luo Huai?

Luo Huai: Hush money.

Zhong Jiudao: Acting fee.

Luo Huai (heartbroken and deeply distressed): I won't tell anyone! Take this money and use it to add a few more frames of special effects instead!

Zhong Jiudao: I have money now.

Luo Huai: I don't believe you!:

 

Translator : DarNan