« More than seventy years. » Qi Wanlian stretched out her arms under the moonlight and said softly with her eyes closed, « I haven’t seen the moon outside the villa for more than seventy years. »

 

“Brother Luo, Brother Luo, wake up, it’s time to go to work.”

Luo Huai got up listlessly, his face looking haggard.

During this period away from the villa, he had been very busy every day.

For a while, he had been running between several film sets a day, so busy that he could not rest until late at night. After seamlessly joining this production, he also had to stay with the crew every day.

The other actors only needed to have their makeup done and show up when filming began. Even when the shooting schedule was somewhat tight, it was not that exhausting.

Luo Huai, however, had to stay with the crew the entire time. Without him there, the staff did not even dare enter the set, afraid they might encounter some evil thing again.

Therefore, every day, Luo Huai had to be the first person to arrive at the location and the last to leave. Only after he arrived would everyone else take their positions; even the cleaners arrived later than him.

To ensure that Luo Huai could arrive on time, the production company had even hired an assistant to wake him up every day.

The high-intensity workload left Luo Huai somewhat exhausted, but he was young, so it was not yet to the point where he could no longer endure it.

This morning, however, Luo Huai’s condition was noticeably worse. He looked particularly dispirited, and even heavy makeup could not conceal his fatigue.

“Brother Luo, you look really tired today. Should I ask the crew to lend us a van? Once we get to the location, you can get some proper sleep,” his assistant asked.

The production company had not been excessively exploitative of Luo Huai. As long as he had no scenes to shoot and was somewhere on the set, he could rest wherever he wanted.

Luo Huai had originally not wanted any special treatment. He was merely an insignificant supporting actor from the bottom ranks of the industry; simply being lucky enough to play the third male lead in such a major xianxia production was already more than enough. How could he have the nerve to ask for additional privileges? Besides, during the previous period, even when he was tired from work, as long as he could get five full hours of sleep at night, he would be full of energy the next day.

But today was different. From the moment he got up that morning, his whole body had been aching, and whenever he made even a slightly larger movement, he felt as though every joint in his bones were groaning.

Luo Huai was diligent and hardworking, but he was not someone who would mistreat himself. Since he felt this miserable, he did not refuse. “If it’s convenient, find me somewhere to rest. I think I’ve caught a cold.”

“I guarantee I’ll arrange it!” the assistant promised, patting his chest.

The assistant was busy helping Luo Huai organize his wig and the other things he needed to bring to the set when a pile of items shifted and a ring fell out. The assistant picked it up and took a look, then exclaimed, “Brother Luo, the gemstone on your ring is broken. Oh my god, I hope I didn’t break it! How much does this ring cost?”

Luo Huai had just washed his face. Holding a towel, he walked over to the assistant and saw that the plastic ruby on the ring had shattered into several pieces. He reassured the assistant, “You didn’t break it. It was already broken before I returned to the hotel last night. And it’s not worth anything anyway, so don’t worry.”

“You scared me to death.” Only then did the assistant breathe a sigh of relief.

Luo Huai took the ring and examined it for a while, feeling slightly puzzled. When he had chatted with Jiang Fen yesterday, the ring had still been perfectly intact. He had not had any scenes yesterday either and had been extremely careful to preserve the few pieces of jewelry he had left. Who would have thought that when he returned to his room that evening, it had still somehow broken.

It was probably just because the quality was too poor and it had been exposed to the sun.

Luo Huai did not think much more about it. After getting himself ready, he took the car to the set. On the way, he leaned drowsily against the seat and, half asleep and half awake, heard his assistant and the driver chatting about how yesterday had been the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month, how beautiful the moon had been that night, and how in another month it would be the Mid-Autumn Festival, when they could eat mooncakes—various pointless things that did not require much thought.

The fifteenth day of the lunar month… The last full-moon night, he had still been at Director Zhong’s film set. That night, Sister Qi had gazed tenderly at the moon and said that there was only one month left until the festival.

What festival was the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month again? Luo Huai’s mind was a complete muddle. Before he could figure it out, he fell into a deep sleep.

As he slept, he suddenly heard the ear-splitting cry of a baby right beside him. Luo Huai was jolted awake and saw that the car had already stopped, while the driver was no longer inside.

Seeing that he was awake, the assistant held up a thermos and said, “Brother Luo, we’ve already arrived at the set. You didn’t eat breakfast this morning. Are you hungry? Would you like some mung bean porridge to cool you down?”

“I don’t want to eat.” Luo Huai felt unable to sit still. He climbed from the seat onto the bed in the van, then lay down heavily and murmured groggily, “Let me sleep a little longer.”

The assistant did not dare disturb him. Seeing that he seemed a little cold, he thoughtfully covered him with a blanket and, incidentally, touched Luo Huai’s forehead. Seeing that he did not have a fever, the assistant finally relaxed and sat nearby playing on his phone.

In his dream, Luo Huai was surrounded by the sound of a baby crying. The sound came from far away and gradually approached, growing louder and louder, until it gave him a splitting headache. He wanted to wake up quickly, but he could not.

In his sleep, he struggled and groped around beside his pillow, eventually touching the phone that had been placed there.

At that moment, the phone rang and the screen lit up. An image of the character “馗”(NT: kuí) flickered on the screen.

This was the contact picture Luo Huai had specifically set for Zhong Jiudao. The image had been photographed from a relatively large pendant, then extracted from the jewelry using Photoshop. Luo Huai felt that this mysterious symbol was very similar to Director Zhong’s meticulous and uncompromising temperament.

The instant the phone lit up, the baby’s crying disappeared completely, and Luo Huai’s mind also became much clearer. Previously, it had been as though his upper and lower eyelids were glued together, and no matter what, he could not open them. Now, however, he woke up with ease.

Luo Huai sat up and discovered that the aches throughout his body had also eased considerably. It seemed that getting some extra sleep really had helped.

As though he had just been fully recharged, Luo Huai answered the phone full of energy. “Hello, is that Director Zhong?”

“It’s me.” Zhong Jiudao’s reassuring voice came through the receiver. “I wanted to come visit you on set. I’m near your production, but they won’t let me in.”

Film sets generally did not allow outsiders to enter. Some fan-site photographers with connections could be brought onto a set, but after a series of incidents on this production, the crew was worried both about information leaking out and about other people getting hurt, so they had completely prohibited fan-site photographers and paparazzi from entering. Even actors were not allowed to bring them in. And so Zhong Jiudao had been stopped outside the gate.

“Did you come to see me?” Luo Huai asked happily.

“Of course. You’re an artist signed to our company, and you managed to get such a good opportunity through your own abilities. Naturally, I had to come visit you on set,” Zhong Jiudao said. “Besides, I’d also like to learn how a major production operates. I hope I can observe the filming process.”

“I’ll come get you right now!” Luo Huai rolled energetically out of bed and bounced out of the van.

“Brother Luo, where are you going?” His assistant, who had been dozing off, immediately got up.

“I’m going to pick someone up. I’ll be right back,” Luo Huai told his assistant.

“I’ll go with you!” The assistant hurried after Luo Huai.

The two of them jogged all the way to the outer gate. From a distance, they saw a tall man standing outside, with several young women gathered around him asking him something.

The film city where the production was shooting was also an open tourist attraction, and any sets that had not been rented out were open to visitors. Quite a few fans would buy tickets to the attraction and wait outside the production, hoping to catch a glimpse of an actor when they arrived or left work. Naturally, this was not encouraged, as it could lead to all kinds of safety incidents.

There were also passers-by who knew that filming was taking place here and came over out of curiosity to have a look, but they would not stay for very long.

Once removed from the “director filter,” Zhong Jiudao was a tall and cool young man. With both hands in his pockets, he leaned against the wall as he waited for someone. His profile was strikingly handsome, attracting quite a few people who mistook him for a celebrity and took photos of him.

Some bolder girls even came over to strike up a conversation, and Zhong Jiudao answered their questions politely and succinctly.

“You’re so handsome. Are you a celebrity?” Girl A asked.

“No,” Zhong Jiudao replied.

“You have such a nice voice too. Are you a voice actor?” Girl B asked.

“No.”

“Then are you a model? A staff member?” Girl C asked.

“Neither.”

“Director Zhong!” Luo Huai waved at Zhong Jiudao from across the gate.

“I’m here to see someone.” Zhong Jiudao politely asked and nodded in greeting, and his imposing presence was such that the people watching instinctively made way for him.

“Big Brother, he’s my friend. Can he come in?” Luo Huai asked the security guard at the gate.

Other people’s friends would not have been allowed in, but the Little Lucky Star Luo Huai’s friend was absolutely allowed in and could stay as long as he wanted.

The security guard opened the gate and let him through. Zhong Jiudao came up to Luo Huai and saw that the area between his eyebrows was darkened, as though dark clouds were covering his head, clearly indicating that resentment had already entered his body. If he were delayed any longer, something disastrous might happen.

Zhong Jiudao rapidly drew a talisman with his left hand. The moment he saw Luo Huai, he touched Luo Huai’s forehead with his finger. In an instant, the resentment dissipated completely, and Luo Huai’s dark circles became much lighter, making him look considerably more handsome.

The people gathered outside saw Zhong Jiudao lightly touch Luo Huai’s forehead and, for some reason, began screaming. Some even shouted, “I ship them! I ship them!”

The security guard hurriedly asked, “Who got hurt? Is anyone injured? Should we call a doctor?”

“No, no!” Everyone quickly explained, unable to keep from laughing.

“You got hurt and you’re still laughing? Don’t gather here. Hurry up and disperse; it’s easy for someone to get injured,” the security guard said, conscientiously carrying out his duties.

Inside the production area, Luo Huai had no idea what the people outside were shouting about. He rubbed his forehead and wondered why Director Zhong had touched it.

Zhong Jiudao gave a simple explanation. “Your forehead looked dark. I thought something dirty had gotten on you, so I wiped it off.”

“My whole face looked dark when I got up this morning,” Luo Huai said. “It’s probably because I haven’t been sleeping enough lately. I feel much better after that nap just now.”

Zhong Jiudao walked to a place where the people outside could not see them, took out a knotted cord, and casually tied it around Luo Huai’s waist.

Luo Huai took a close look. It was another kui character.

“Director Zhong, did you braid this yourself?” Luo Huai asked.

Zhong Jiudao nodded. “I bought it at the scenic area outside. The little ornaments here are too expensive. Things that are sold online in bundles for 9.9 yuan cost twenty yuan here for just one. This multicoloured cord was relatively cheap, five yuan each. I bought two and braided them into a knot. Make do with this for a couple of days. The things I ordered online should arrive tomorrow.”

“You’ve given me something again.” Luo Huai felt a little embarrassed, but as he touched the knotted cord personally braided by Director Zhong, he found that he really liked it.

“You’re filming a production with such extensive promotional exposure. The company logo can’t disappear,” Zhong Jiudao casually explained.

The assistant standing nearby: “…”

Had he seen that correctly? This person Luo Huai called “Director Zhong” was actually pursuing Luo Huai, wasn’t he? Whether it was intimately touching his forehead or giving him a hand-braided cord, these were clearly things one did when pursuing someone.

However, this was the first time the assistant had ever seen someone be so stingy while pursuing another person. He was actually unwilling to buy even a twenty-yuan fake piece of jewelry and had spent only five yuan on a cord!

The assistant remembered the broken pieces of jewelry Luo Huai kept in a box as though they were treasures and could not help feeling sorry for him.

Although the assistant called Luo Huai “Brother Luo,” he was actually older than him; calling him “Brother” was simply a respectful form of address.

He had worked in the entertainment industry for many years and had previously been the assistant of a well-known actor. He had met all kinds of people, yet he rarely encountered someone as innocent as Luo Huai.

Should he give Luo Huai a warning and make sure he did not get deceived?

But Zhong Jiudao looked tall, powerful, and imposing, with an air of wealth and refinement about him. At a glance, he was clearly not someone to mess with.

Better not, then. In the end, the assistant chose to follow his instincts and silently followed the two of them.

Luo Huai was extremely happy to see Zhong Jiudao and kept telling him about everything that had happened on the set. Zhong Jiudao listened while observing the condition of the production, trying to determine exactly what had happened there.

Before coming, Zhong Jiudao had made inquiries about the two Heavenly Masters hired by the production. One was a self-taught wandering practitioner, while the other had been trained by a family of Heavenly Masters. Both were quite famous in the profession and genuinely possessed real abilities. If even they could not resolve the problem, then it was certainly no simple matter.

Most importantly, Zhong Jiudao had given Luo Huai so many talisman characters that even if Luo Huai entered the villa alone, they could protect him for a while. An ordinary malicious ghost could be worn down and killed merely by the jewelry. Yet now all the jewelry had shattered, while the evil presence hidden within the production had not weakened but instead grown stronger. This was abnormal.

What could cause an evil presence to become stronger and stronger despite being suppressed? Zhong Jiudao seriously thought back over the books he had read and the incidents he had dealt with in the past.

Nearby, the assistant saw how happily Luo Huai was talking, while Zhong Jiudao was clearly not listening attentively, and he could no longer bear to watch.

This Zhong Jiudao clearly did not like their Little Lucky Star Luo Huai at all. He was only playing around with him. He could not stand it anymore. Once Zhong Jiudao left, he would definitely find an opportunity to warn Luo Huai to be careful!

The assistant had originally thought that Zhong Jiudao had merely come to see Luo Huai and would be leaving soon.

Who would have thought that once Zhong Jiudao arrived at the set and chatted with the assistant director for a while, he would suddenly transform into an assistant director himself and refuse to leave the production.

It turned out that he had worked under this assistant director during his previous internship and had been highly appreciated by him. Today, he had taken the initiative to ask to follow him and learn for a while. He was here to learn, not to look for a job. Who would not want a free assistant? And with Zhong Jiudao’s good character ensuring his reliability, the assistant director agreed.

When Luo Huai saw that Director Zhong was also staying on the production, he was so delighted he almost seemed ready to fly. He stuck close behind Director Zhong all day, helping with this and that, and was much more lively than before.

They stayed busy until the production wrapped for the evening. Luo Huai asked Zhong Jiudao to rest in his room, but Zhong Jiudao refused.

He claimed that he had booked a room at another hotel and had not checked out yet, so he would move over the next day.

After everyone from the production had left, Zhong Jiudao took a detour and returned to the set. The set was haunted, and even the security guards did not dare stay there at night to keep watch. With no one there to stop him, Zhong Jiudao easily climbed over the wall and entered.

Standing in the middle of the set, Zhong Jiudao took out a wallet. When he opened it, there was no money inside; instead, it was stuffed with thirty-three paper figures.

Zhong Jiudao took out the paper figures and told them, “The set is rather large. If I search for the source of the resentment alone, it’ll be too slow. You go look for it too.”

The thirty-three paper figures fell to the ground and transformed into human forms. They were none other than the thirty-three ghosts from the villa.

Bathed in the moonlight, they raised their heads and gazed at the sky, curiously looking around at their unfamiliar surroundings.

“It’s been more than seventy years.” Qi Wanlian stretched out her arms beneath the moonlight and said softly with her eyes closed, “I haven’t seen the moon outside the villa for more than seventy years.”

“So this is the outside world,” Shen Leshan said with a sigh. “Ever since Director Zhong took out that disc, I’ve been wondering what the outside had become. Now I can finally come out and have a look.”

Fu Yue gently floated upward and stood at the highest point of the production set, looking down. She said quietly, “A platform this high… if someone fell from here, they’d die instantly, right?”

Each of the ghosts expressed their longing for the outside world. At that moment, Zhong Jiudao clapped his hands and, completely oblivious to the mood, said, “There’s only one moon in the whole world. It’s the same wherever you bask in the moonlight, so get to work.”

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The author has something to say:

Zhong Jiudao takes out his wallet: “You think I’m alone, but actually, I’ve brought the entire company’s employees with me!”

 

Translator : DarNan