The world Luo Huai saw was definitely not the same as the world seen by ordinary people.

 

Ji Pan discovered that watching a television drama starring her alongside Qi Wanlian was not a good idea.

She had already asked her assistant to bring her a thick shawl and wrapped it around her upper body while watching the show, but she still could not stop shivering from the cold. Chilly winds blew in from all directions, freezing her to the bone.

Ji Pan could not help edging closer to Qi Wanlian as she watched the film.

As it happened, the film had reached the scene in which Qi Wanlian made Pang Xinhao see an illusion of her being cut open and having her heart removed. Ji Pan turned her head to glance at Qi Wanlian and noticed that she was wearing the same white qipao as her character in the film. Unable to help herself, Ji Pan shifted in her seat and moved closer to Shen Leshan beside her.

Before long, Ji Pan saw Shen Leshan remove his gloves, revealing a palm without any skin, and reach for Xiao Luo.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Shen Leshan, who was sitting beside her with his hands clasped together on his lap. He was wearing a pair of white gloves.

Ji Pan: “...”

She immediately felt as though she were sitting on pins and needles, as if she had fallen into a nest of ghosts. A chill ran straight up her spine to the crown of her head.

Sitting behind them, Zhong Jiudao saw how helpless Ji Pan looked from the back. The three soul lamps above her head and on her shoulders were frighteningly faint. If things continued like this, even if Qi Wanlian and the others did not harm her, she would still end up seriously ill.

If Ji Pan fell ill, filming The Sword Tomb would be delayed. Luo Huai, who was originally due to wrap up filming in two days, would be forced to stay for several more. However, as the only actor in the company who could attend interviews and variety shows, Luo Huai already had a packed schedule ahead of him. He had only three hours a day to sleep on the high-speed train, so they could not afford any further delays.

They could not let things continue this way. He had to find a way to rescue Ji Pan from the nest of ghosts, but with Pang Xinhao and Luo Huai sitting beside him, it was difficult to act.

Just then, Qi Wanlian suddenly turned around and glanced at Zhong Jiudao. Seemingly having guessed what he was thinking, she took Ji Pan’s hand and said, “I’d like to go to the restroom.”

“I’ll come with you!” Ji Pan reacted as though she had spotted her saviour. She hurriedly stood up, grabbed Qi Wanlian, and rushed out of the auditorium.

Seeing this, Zhong Jiudao quickly gulped down his own cola, then drank all the cola Luo Huai had barely touched. He could not let Qi Wanlian and Ji Pan spend too much time alone together. These powerful ghosts could not easily change their nature; the slightest misstep could cause them to attack someone.

Leaving Qi Wanlian alone with Ji Pan was like placing a cup of extra-sweet milk tea in front of someone who absolutely loved sweets. No matter how often she was warned that too much sugar was bad for her health and that she needed to lose weight, she would still be unable to resist taking a sip.

“Director Zhong, that’s my cola.” Luo Huai could only watch helplessly as Zhong Jiudao drained his small cup. He had taken only one sip himself! He had not dared to drink cola for more than two months, and today was the first time he had been allowed to have a cup!

“Mm. I was thirsty, and I’d already finished mine,” Zhong Jiudao said expressionlessly. “One sip should be enough to satisfy your craving.”

Luo Huai picked up the empty cola cup and sucked hard on the straw several times, but managed to get only a few drops from the bottom. He could not help pouting. He felt so wronged.

After drinking the cola, Zhong Jiudao sat for about two minutes before getting up and saying, “I’ve drunk too much. I’m going to the restroom.”

How could he possibly avoid needing the restroom after drinking that much? Luo Huai glared indignantly at the two empty cups.

Pang Xinhao, sitting on Luo Huai’s other side and keeping an eye on them out of the corner of his eye, could not help leaning close to Luo Huai after Zhong Jiudao left. In a low voice, he said, “I just saw Director Zhong gulp down his own cola in one go. It went down so fast that he nearly choked. But after catching his breath for a moment, he immediately went and drank yours. Do you think he...”

“Was he really that thirsty?” Luo Huai asked in astonishment. “If I’d known, I would have bought another cup of cola.”

Pang Xinhao wanted nothing more than to crack open Luo Huai’s skull and see what was going on inside. Gritting his teeth, he said, “I mean, do you think he did all that just to find an excuse to drink your cola?”

“Does he really have to go to such lengths just to make sure I keep in shape?” Luo Huai asked.

Pang Xinhao: “...”

He had realized long ago that this four-year friend of his seemed to be missing a few screws in one particular area. The world Luo Huai saw was absolutely different from the world seen by ordinary people. It was as though his eyes came equipped from birth with a two-thousand-fold filter that magnified all things good, true, and beautiful. Anything that passed through Luo Huai’s perspective came out looking completely different!

Fine. In any case, Luo Huai was not suited to being in a relationship at this stage, and Director Zhong was not a bad person who would do anything that crossed the line. Pang Xinhao would simply let him slowly warm the frog in the pot, hoping that one day Luo Huai would finally catch on.

Thinking of how Zhong Jiudao had revitalised his career, Pang Xinhao decided to turn a blind eye and let things take their natural course.

After guzzling down the cola, Zhong Jiudao had finally found an opportunity to leave the auditorium and keep an eye on Qi Wanlian. He was extremely worried that the two women might be having a heart-to-heart conversation in the restroom. Otherwise, he would end up looking like a pervert sneaking into the women’s restroom at night.

Fortunately, Ji Pan was not the sort of person who liked to spend a long time in the restroom. She and Qi Wanlian went to the window in the cinema’s waiting area and quietly gazed at the night.

“It feels so nice to spend a little time in peace and quiet like this,” Ji Pan said softly as she looked out at the brightly lit city. “Ever since I became famous, I’ve often wanted to run away to a place where nobody knows who I am. A place where I don’t have to wear sunglasses or a headscarf, where I don’t have to worry about being recognized or watch what I eat. I want to eat fried food in big bites, drink cola, and let myself go for once.”

“What is fried food? Is it tasty?” Qi Wanlian asked.

Ji Pan: “...You must have seen it before, even if you’ve never eaten it, right?”

“I’ve seen it in films. It looks greasy when someone takes a bite, and it doesn’t seem very clean,” Qi Wanlian said. “I used to be able to eat only vegetables and brown rice. Meat and oil were luxuries I could afford only twice a year. Now, I particularly like tomato ketchup and molten cheese cakes, but Director Zhong won’t let us eat them.”

Ji Pan: “...You’ve sacrificed far too much to maintain your figure.”

No wonder Qi Wanlian managed to stay so beautifully slender. In person, she had a delicate, almost frail beauty, while in the film, her slenderness was just right—not so thin that it detracted from her appearance, nor so plump that it diminished her charm.

“As for worrying about people discovering your identity, what is there to suffer over?” Qi Wanlian and Ji Pan did not share the same feelings on the matter. Her expression remained indifferent as she said, “The living have only a few decades. After death, whether a hundred years or two hundred years pass, no one will be able to see you. Why not let as many people look at you as possible while you’re still alive? Every day you spend unseen is a loss.”

Ji Pan was taken aback. Then she smiled with relief. “You’re right. I’ve been asking for too much. Before I became famous, I dreamed of making a name for myself. I was willing to pay any price to become popular. Now that I have fame, I want freedom as well. I can’t expect to have everything. In the position I’m in, I’m bound to have to sacrifice some things.”

Then she changed the subject. “From the way you speak, you want to become famous, don’t you? Could we exchange contact information? You’ve already gained a little recognition, so you should take advantage of this opportunity to accept more work and get your face in front of the public more often, consolidating your position. If Director Zhong’s side refuses to agree, I can help you hire a lawyer and terminate your contract with the smallest possible loss.”

“Hire a lawyer to terminate a contract with whom? The Ten Kings of Hell?” Qi Wanlian muttered under her breath.

“What did you say?” Ji Pan had not heard her clearly.

“Oh, I said I don’t have a mobile phone,” Qi Wanlian replied. “Director Zhong won’t let us use them.”

The ghosts had been trapped in the villa for many years. In the early days, they had not even known what mobile phones were, and simply being shown a film had been enough to make them happy. Later, as members of the film crew gradually moved into the villa, the ghosts saw them using their phones to play games and order all sorts of delicious food. Luo Huai’s molten cheese cake, for instance, had been conjured up with a phone. The ghosts thus came to regard mobile phones as divine objects.

Later, when Jiang Fen joined the villa, he could move freely between mobile phones and computers. He also taught the ghosts about the various uses of mobile phones. They had once confronted Zhong Jiudao, demanding that he buy phones for them.

At the time, Zhong Jiudao had told them that mobile phones had to be purchased with money, and that a phone number had to be registered using an identity card. There was a limit to the number of phone numbers one person could register. If the ghosts used their phones to commit misdeeds, the person who had registered the numbers—Zhong Jiudao—would also get dragged into trouble.

The ghosts knew they were not human and had no identity cards. Apart from cursing Zhong as a bloodsucking miser, they could do nothing about it.

“He still hasn’t confiscated your phones?” Ji Pan asked with a frown.

She knew that some entertainment companies managed their artists very strictly, confiscating and inspecting their phones under the pretext of intensive training and preventing them from contacting the outside world. But this was wrong.

“Just wait here.” Ji Pan called her assistant.

Before long, her all-capable assistant came upstairs and slipped a phone into Qi Wanlian’s hand. “This is my spare phone. I’ve barely used it, and the number is registered under my identity card. You can use it to keep in touch with Panpan.”

Qi Wanlian took the phone in delighted surprise. Ji Pan’s friendly face was reflected in her sparkling, limpid eyes, and Qi Wanlian could not help licking her lips.

According to the rules among ghosts, this human had already fallen completely under her spell. From this point on, Qi Wanlian could do whatever she wanted to her.

Qi Wanlian did not particularly enjoy absorbing women’s vital life energy. The balance between yin and yang was important, and absorbing men’s vital life energy was more beneficial to her cultivation. Ji Pan was a national goddess with a great many male fans. Perhaps Qi Wanlian could make use of her...

The yin energy surrounding Qi Wanlian grew increasingly heavy. Zhong Jiudao, who was secretly observing her, also raised his hands into the gesture for drawing a talisman. If Qi Wanlian truly intended to exploit Ji Pan’s feelings to harm her, then this powerful ghost could not be allowed to remain. Even if it meant exposing Qi Wanlian’s identity, he would have to bring Ji Pan to her senses and make her abandon her delusions. That was a celestial master’s duty.

Unexpectedly, after staring at Ji Pan for a moment, Qi Wanlian’s resentment seemed to be dispelled by something, and her entire being grew peaceful.

She tossed the phone back to Ji Pan and turned to walk towards the cinema. “Forget it. I won’t get you into trouble.”

“Why?” Ji Pan clutched the phone, looking as heartbroken as a young woman abandoned by a scumbag.

Without even turning her head, Qi Wanlian replied lazily, “I’ll return to the place where I belong and do what I’m supposed to do.”

As her figure disappeared into the auditorium, not only was Ji Pan bewildered, but even Zhong Jiudao was completely baffled of what had happened.

Just moments ago, Qi Wanlian’s resentment had seemed to be dispelled by something. As a powerful ghost devoid of compassion, she could never have been moved by Ji Pan’s affection. In a powerful ghost’s eyes, such a human would only seem foolish beyond redemption, an easily manipulated puppet.

Since Ji Pan was no longer in danger, Zhong Jiudao returned to his seat and continued secretly observing Qi Wanlian.

Just then, Luo Huai held up his phone and whispered to Zhong Jiudao, “Director Zhong, our super-topic has been approved.”

Zhong Jiudao took the phone to look. He saw that Luo Huai had used an alternate account to follow the super-topics for the film Fallen Home, Qi Wanlian, Shen Leshan, and Fu Yue. Luo Huai even had a super-topic of his own now. Pang Xinhao had had one for a long time, although in the past, a group of people had regularly gathered there every day to insult him. Now, their comments had been drowned out by praise.

Qi Wanlian and the other ghost actors had not even opened Weibo accounts. The super-topics currently circulating online were therefore dedicated to their characters, not the actors themselves. When Zhong Jiudao opened Qi Wanlian’s super-topic, he found nothing but praise for her acting and analyses of her character.

Many people were saying that the powerful ghost was a multilayered character. Although she was evil, her past experiences had made her that way. Her wickedness had been forced out of her by the chaotic era in which she lived.

Zhong Jiudao had written Qi Wanlian’s character based on the process through which Qi Wanlian herself had become a powerful ghost. Apart from the part in which Shen Leshan sacrificed himself to save her, everything else had been drawn from Qi Wanlian’s own experiences.

Yet the real past of this powerful ghost had been even more tragic than that of the character Zhong Jiudao had written. She had never had a Shen Leshan. All she had been left with was a straw mat wrapped around her body and a mass burial ground. The husband who had sold her into a brothel and the people responsible for her death had all continued living comfortably, right up until the seventh day after Qi Wanlian’s death.

There were even many people in the super-topic writing fanfiction, imagining how things might have unfolded if she had been given another chance: how the woman who had drifted through the old society like a duckweed on the water might have escaped her fate of dying and ended up with the person she loved.

Zhong Jiudao keenly realized that the dissipation of Qi Wanlian’s resentment might be connected to the sympathy her character’s fans felt for her and to the stories they had written.

The emotional strength of a single person was limited. But once enough people came together, their feelings could gather into an immense force, gradually diluting Qi Wanlian’s resentment.

If this state continued, it seemed they really could consider taking part in a few reliable programs.

 

Translator : DarNan