Chapter 15
Note: Sorry about the delay. I don't say this lightly... but this is the longest freaking chapter I've ever translated since I started this site. T_T
Of course, he can't go to the private island.
After all, Wen Xingze is still on the set. Although he has a few days off, that island in the central South Pacific would still take half a day to reach even by private plane.
Wen Xingze did a quick search and found that the island was described in magazines as having “beautiful and pleasant weather” and a shape resembling a diamond when viewed from above, nestled like an emerald in the middle of the deep blue sea.
Once upon a time, a wealthy businessman tried to develop the island into a tourist attraction, but he failed. It ended up being purchased for use as a private vacation island…
How much money did the vampire clan spend on it?
It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet, and the dragon parents couldn’t use WeChat to contact that universe. Wen Xingze lay on the bed, feeling bewildered about how many zeros two hundred million actually had, and eventually drifted off to sleep in his confusion.
________________________
Five o’clock in the afternoon.
Wen Xingze was awakened by Xu Qianqian and Zhu Bo. They said that since they finally had a day off, they should relax a bit.
“Xiao Wen, let me tell you,” Zhu Bo said cheerfully, temporarily escaping Director Zheng’s clutches. He was so happy this afternoon that he felt like setting off fireworks. “Life is short, so eat, drink, and be merry.”
“And play cards,” Xu Qianqian added.
Wen Xingze raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t that saying originally different?”
Both Zhu Bo and Xu Qianqian had left their assistants behind this time. Zhu Bo drove, and they went out for dinner first.
Zhu Bo often came to this film and television city for work, so he knew the place well. He chose a Cantonese restaurant that wasn’t popular but served delicious food. The braised squab for dinner was exceptional—crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, fried to a golden brown, and then drizzled with lemon juice. Even the bones were fragrant.
Looking at the meticulously prepared squab, Xu Qianqian sighed. “Xiao Wen, what does this teach us?”
“Don’t be a pigeon, or you’ll end up braised,” Wen Xingze deadpanned.
Xu Qianqian: “?”
She had intended to say that every grain of rice on the plate was hard work, but Wen Xingze’s response seemed oddly reasonable.
After dinner, the three of them pondered where to go next. Zhu Bo checked his phone and suggested, “How about visiting the internet-famous haunted spot, Windsor Castle?”
Of course, this “Windsor Castle” wasn’t the historical one.
Wen Xingze had some knowledge about it — it referred to a project abandoned by the film and television city ten years ago. Back then, they wanted to build a castle suitable for shooting European medieval indoor scenes, but halfway through construction, it suddenly became haunted. The half-finished castle was left untouched.
During the day, many bloggers and influencers flocked there for photos, but at night, it was genuinely eerie. However, the three of them were bolder than most, so…
“If this were a novel, we’d probably encounter ghosts after going in, maybe even enter an infinite loop world,” Xu Qianqian mused. “Luckily, this isn’t a fictional world, haha.”
Wen Xingze: “?”
He wasn’t afraid at all initially, but Xu Qianqian’s words made him a little uneasy.
Hopefully, the author wouldn’t do something so foolish.
The castle’s ground floor had rusty doors, slightly damp wooden floors, and otherwise seemed normal. Although it felt eerie when they first entered, Wen Xingze quickly got used to it. They explored the second floor and planned to head downstairs.
Zhu Bo turned the doorknob, hesitated for a few seconds, then turned back to them in shock. “The door won’t open.”
Wen Xingze: “…”
Xu Qianqian: “…”
“Brother, don’t mess with us,” Wen Xingze stepped forward to try. Three seconds later, he also looked at Xu Qianqian in shock. “Uh-oh, it really won’t open.”
“…”
Zhu Bo: “Xu Qianqian, maybe you shouldn’t have raised that flag. Now look what happened.” (Note: Flag is in English. 立flag is is slightly sarcastic. In this context, Zhu Bo is saying that Xu Qianqian shouldn't have jinxed herself.)
Xu Qianqian: “Blame me? Who suggested coming here in the first place?!”
“It’s probably just stuck due to the wind. Let’s call the assistant first,” Wen Xingze said. “My phone’s flashlight was on the whole time, and now it’s dead.”
"Mine too."
Wen Xingze: “Qianqian, are you there?”
Xu Qianqian, almost in tears: “I’ve run out of phone credits!”
The three of them stared at the door in bewilderment.
Wen Xingze: “How about knocking on the door? Maybe it’ll open, or perhaps there are other visitors downstairs who will come to open it.”
Zhu Bo: “Sounds good.”
Wen Xingze positioned Xu Qianqian between him and Zhu Bo, providing her some reassurance.
After knocking for a while, Wen Xingze suddenly remembered something and pulled out the Bluetooth earphones he had received yesterday.
As he put on the earphones, the surrounding noise instantly faded away, leaving a quiet, soundless world.
Wen Xingze: “…Teacher Chi?”
Just two seconds later, a familiar voice responded.
In the background, there was a faint sound of wind.
Chi Yan, as if he had been waiting all along, showed no surprise in his tone.
Perhaps due to the transmission through electrical currents, his voice was softer than usual, carrying a hint of coolness and indulgence.
Chi Yan: “I’m here,” he asked softly, “Did you get into trouble?”
________________________
Meanwhile, on the ground floor of the castle:
The filming location for the live variety show “Ghost 100%” was set up.
The host held the microphone, trembling, and asked, “Did any of you hear the noise upstairs? It sounds like someone knocking on the door. Baijing, did you hear it?”
Xu Baijing wore a disgruntled expression and recited his lines half-heartedly, “We’ve already checked; there’s no one upstairs.”
His uncooperative attitude left the other guests feeling extremely awkward. After all, this was a live variety show!
Xu Baijing couldn’t be bothered with them.
—If it weren’t for the circumstances, he wouldn’t have participated in this ridiculous variety show at all.
Something was definitely off. The events that had occurred in the past half month were downright strange for Xu Baijing. Anyone who knew about them would say so.
In the past, Xu Baijing’s ability to foresee plotlines and his lucky aura from Wen Xingze had made everything go smoothly. But recently, he kept hitting walls.
Losing Encounter with the Dragon was just the beginning. Seeking help from his five dads about it had been futile. They all advised him to forget about it.
However, he wasn’t willing to give up. Trying to dig up dirt on Wen Xingze himself, he accidentally leaked his own past of acting high and dating young models at nightclubs to the paparazzi, resulting in losing a role and three endorsements. He’d never experienced such setbacks before.
It was as if the feng shui master had said: the lucky aura inadvertently provoked a real dragon, leading to backlash… Impossible.
Because of these incidents, Xu Baijing’s popularity had significantly declined. That’s why he reluctantly ended up on “Ghost 100%”— a live variety show where guests explored various haunted places, with everything broadcast in real time.
Of course, Xu Baijing’s purpose wasn’t solely the show itself; it was the opportunity behind it! Having lost Encounter with the Dragon, he urgently needed a male celebrity to create a buzz. He had his eye on another male guest from this show, who happened to be absent this episode.
Naturally, Xu Baijing didn’t bother to take it seriously.
Live variety shows were still relatively novel in China. At this moment, tens of thousands of viewers were already watching the live stream.
Xu Baijing wasn’t particularly suited for variety shows, and his lack of cooperation quickly led to viewer comments like “It’s too fake” or “Are these actors arranged?” or simply “Boring.”
Suddenly, the sound of knocking came from upstairs again.
The female host shuddered, whispering even more quietly to the other guests, “This isn’t a setup by the production team. The designated person isn’t upstairs, and we’ve locked all the doors. No one should be able to get in.”
The other guests were equally startled: “…Could it really be haunted?”
Ghost 100% played up the gimmick of being “absolutely real and completely unscripted.” Even the show’s director hadn’t followed the guests inside, only a cameraman was present.
None of the guests, including the cameraman, were particularly brave. In the pitch-black night, in an abandoned castle with ghostly legends… It was true that people were easily influenced by the atmosphere, and their brains could conjure up fantasies.
The guests moved hesitantly toward the second-floor direction, their hearts pounding.
The door was truly knocking—thud, thud, thud!
A draft swept through, revealing a bleak moon outside the old glass. The rusty iron door bore crimson paint marks. It looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie.
The guests huddled together like quails, none daring to approach. Surprisingly, the live chat became lively; suddenly, things got interesting.
“Is it really a ghost?”
“This film city has been rumored to be haunted for over a decade. If it were just gossip, it would have been debunked by now. No influencer dares to check in here at night — it’s true!”
“Jingjing, we believe you. The previous scandals were all fabricated by rivals. Let’s focus on your work.”
“Wait, why are there fans defending him? Explain why your precious white lotus idol is hiding behind the female guest now? Ugh.”
“Xu, Xu Baijing, could you go take a look?” The female host trembled.
Baijing’s public image was that of a wealthy playboy, carefree and bold. Plus, apart from Baijing and the cameraman, all the other guests were female. He was indeed the most suitable choice.
However, at this moment, Xu Baijing was cowering behind a group of female guests.
“Why should I go?!” Xu Baijing glared immediately.
Truthfully, he was the most afraid. His conscience was far from clean — he’d done plenty of scheming, backstabbing, and bullying. And he’d absorbed the life force of many people through his aura; there were more than one or two vengeful spirits after him…
“You, you’re a man!” The female host was genuinely scared and hadn’t expected Xu Baijing to be so shameless. She was both aggrieved and bewildered.
Xu Baijing was getting desperate. While he usually played up his image, he couldn’t afford to now. He pushed the female host’s shoulder:
“What’s wrong with me being a man? Why don’t you go? You act so boldly all the time, acting like a green tea, manly b*tch.”
Everyone, including the live chat, fell silent.
Regardless of whether it was part of the show, that statement was a bit too much.
The female host was too flustered to be scared anymore. Suddenly, in front of everyone, she felt wronged and inexplicably furious, trembling all over.
And then, at that moment…
“Creak—”
The iron door leading to the second floor suddenly cracked open.
Everyone’s hearts nearly stopped.
The female host, who had just been pushed by Xu Baijing, was closest to the door. In full view of everyone, a thin hand reached out from inside the door, pulling her slowly toward it…
“Help me!!” The female host was utterly panicked, her face pale as she reached out to Xu Baijing.
In the next second, Xu Baijing did something shocking.
He summoned extraordinary courage and strength, forcefully pushing the female host toward the door, then kicked it shut with a resounding “thud.”
The female host’s scream and the sound of the door closing echoed throughout the entire castle.
Then, Xu Baijing stumbled backward five meters, pressed against the wall, and looked at the stunned other guests. He barely managed to come up with an excuse:
“I did it for everyone’s sake. If I had saved her just now, ‘that thing’ would have escaped…”
All the guests: “…”
The audience: “…”
When shamelessness reaches a certain level, it can indeed be logically consistent.
________________________
Female host: “Help!!”
Xu Qianqian, who had pulled her inside: “Shh! We’re not ghosts. Don’t be afraid — we’re sorry about earlier.”
The tearful female host and the Encounter with the Dragon trio exchanged glances: “…”
Wen Xingze and the others, still in the middle of knocking on the door, finally realized they were part of a live variety show outside.
Originally, this type of live variety show would have been cleared before going live. However, perhaps the staff in charge of clearing the area were in a hurry or afraid, so they didn’t thoroughly check the second floor and hastily locked the door. Unfortunately, Wen Xingze and his companions happened to be on the second floor when this happened.
After all, the three of them were celebrities. If they suddenly appeared on the live broadcast, their respective managers would probably give them a good scolding.
“I just wanted to pull you aside for a quiet chat,” Xu Qianqian said, still trembling. “Who would have thought that Xu Baijing would be so shameless and push you in!”
Zhu Bo added, “Phew, luckily he didn’t end up in the Encounter with the Dragon cast.”
From inside the room, they heard everything that was happening outside.
It was a close call. If Zheng Xiao had compromised with the capital and agreed to act alongside someone like Xu Baijing, Xu Qianqian and Zhu Bo would have been furious.
Their Xiao Wen was a thousand times better than that shameless guy!
The female host’s emotions went from despair to relief. She sat there and burst into tears. Between sobs, she turned to Wen Xingze and said:
“Uh, I really love Encounter with the Dragon. Heng Zhi, Yan Xjun, and Ling Yao are all so handsome. Could you sign an autograph for me later?”
The trio exchanged glances: “…”
Wen Xingze handed her a tissue and shared a look with Xu Qianqian and Zhu Bo.
Even without mentioning the past, Xu Baijing had truly crossed the line this time. Although netizens would definitely criticize him, his team would undoubtedly do damage control…
Not to mention the female host — even Wen Xingze was angry and didn’t want to let Xu Baijing off the hook so easily
“Do you want to get back at Xu Baijing?” Wen Xingze asked the female host. “Not necessarily revenge, but just teach him a lesson and let him experience some social backlash.”
Xu Qianqian and Zhu Bo rubbed their hands together: “Hehehe.”
The female host replied, “I do.”
Being called a “bitch” in front of tens of thousands of viewers and then being pushed into a potentially haunted room — she genuinely thought she was done for!
She wasn’t a saint. How could she not hold a grudge?
After a hushed discussion, Wen Xingze stepped aside and spoke into his Bluetooth earphones: “Teacher Chi, this is the situation. I’ll be delayed for a bit.”
Chi Yan responded with a simple “Mm.”
Chi Yan hadn’t mentioned hanging up, and Wen Xingze didn’t really want to. He wasn’t sure what Chi Yan was doing on the other end, but the background noise was quiet, occasionally interrupted by the sound of wind and breathing.
Even without Chi Yan saying anything, just listening to that background noise inexplicably calmed Wen Xingze down.
“Would you like me to save you some phone credit?” Wen Xingze asked.
Chi Yan replied, “I don’t need it.”
Wen Xingze playfully teased him, “If you don’t need it, why did you mooch off my candied hawthorn skewer? You said you’d go buy one yourself, but then you didn’t.”
Chi Yan remained silent.
After some time, Wen Xingze finally heard a low voice on the other end of the line: “I don’t want someone else’s.”
Meanwhile, Xu Qianqian touched up the female host’s face and neck with lipstick, letting down her hair. She then did the same for herself and Zhu Bo.
Recently, Xu Qianqian had learned some special effects makeup techniques from the makeup artist. In the dim light, it looked eerily realistic.
They had achieved the desired effect.
Xu Qianqian walked over and patted Wen Xingze’s shoulder. “Xiao Wen, shall we go out?”
“Sure.” Wen Xingze snapped back to reality.
Chi Yan’s voice was truly pleasant. No wonder he’d been Wen Xingze’s favorite actor for so many years.
The four of them had clear roles. Wen Xingze put on a mask, walked behind the door, and silently recited a few lines.
________________________
The Blood Clan’s Main Star.
Countless vampires had awakened, and the planet once again came alive. The rustling of bats in flight, footsteps, and the dull sound of staffs hitting the ground filled the air.
This is an inherently reclusive and unsociable race, possessing an old-fashioned aristocratic arrogance.
Even after an entire era of seclusion, their recent awakening hasn’t sparked any desire for interaction among their kind. Instead, they each lock themselves away in their homes or coffins, using various channels to keep track of the king’s well-being.
Yes, the fact that once shocked the entire Cosmic Alliance was this: to stay informed about the king’s current situation, it’s hard to fathom just how many methods the Blood Clan employs.
Driven by jealousy, they never share any information about the king with their fellow clan members.
Some Blood Clan members self-educate using star networks and terminals, while others manipulate blood servants from other planets to gather information. A few even set up ambushes around the thirteen princes… Of course, the latter method is risky but highly effective. Many Blood Clan members still employ these tactics.
On the cliff face, within the ancient castle:
Soren felt a bit nervous. Lilith paced in her high heels, circling the hall for the eighth time.
“The Emperor is seeking our help,” Lilith said.
Almost immediately, energy fluctuations of varying intensity swept across the entire planet. Eerie blue flames surged in many places, bats and crows took flight.
The Emperor faced a dilemma.
They were needed by the Emperor.
For the Blood Clan, it was impossible to distinguish which of these two revelations caused their hearts to skip a beat. From ordinary clan members to the Thirteenth Prince, no one was spared.
The eyes of Prince Os shifted from pure black to crimson, changing multiple times. Then he called for the steward:
“What does the king want?”
The steward replied in a hushed tone, leaning closer to the princes' ears to share something.
After a pause:
The princes gazed at the king on the screen with an indulgent look, a nearly nonexistent smile playing on their pale faces.
Finally, Soren removed his black gloves, clasped his right hand over his chest, and bowed:
“As you wish.”
________________________
In the online live chat for “Ghost 100%,” chaos erupted:
[Is this a live broadcast accident? Quick, send someone in to check on the female host. Hope she’s not hurt!]
[Xu Baijing, maybe your guilty conscience makes you afraid of ghosts]
[Unbelievable! People can actually be shameless to this extent. I thought the nightclub scandal and bullying young models were just someone framing you, but it turns out you’re truly despicable.]
[Fan turning against him.]
[I used to be scared of ghosts, but not anymore. Let’s have a ghost punish Xu Baijing! @Heibai Wuchang @Sadako @Tomie @Tesla @GreatWhiteShark] (Note: LMAO at the names of ghosts/scary things this netizen mentioned)
They say true character emerges in times of crisis, revealing who’s noble and who’s base.
Xu Baijing, with his five wealthy fathers, had decent marketing and a supportive team. Even after previous scandals were confirmed, some passersby still stood by him, and there were even fan clubs defending him.
But what he did during the live variety show crossed all boundaries. Not only did he use the derogatory term b*tch toward a female host, but he also pushed her into potential danger!
This level of selfishness and treachery was beyond ordinary. Considering the female host’s perspective, the audience was furious. Even the few remaining fans were speechless, either completely disappointed or unable to find words.
“This is a complete live broadcast disaster,” even the cameraman’s legs were trembling. “Why hasn’t the director stepped in to save the situation? Damn it, the ground floor door is locked too!”
Not only the door, but the windows were also tightly shut. The eerie wind outside was the only sound that reached them.
“Help, help!” Xu Baijing was terrified. The guests’ phones had been confiscated by the production team, leaving no means of contacting the outside world. “What are you all hiding from? The lives of every one of you combined can’t compare to my precious life!”
Hearing this, the other guests and the cameraman distanced themselves from Xu Baijing by another ten meters.
Nobody was foolish. Xu Baijing, the shameless backstabber who would stab his own teammates in the back, was better kept at a distance.
The ground floor of the castle was spacious and structurally complex. The guests intentionally avoided Xu Baijing, and soon he couldn’t find anyone else.
Only the camera, strategically placed earlier, faithfully broadcasted Xu Baijing’s predicament to the audience.
A lone person trapped in a haunted castle, with an occasional eerie thud and faint voices coming from the nearby iron door. Xu Baijing exclaimed, “Damn it, help! Dad!”
But no one paid him any attention.
He was afraid to run aimlessly, yet staying put might lead to the same fate as the female host. Xu Baijing was losing his mind. Meanwhile, countless viewers online were summoning ghosts on his behalf!
Trembling, Xu Baijing huddled in a corner. Just when he was gasping for breath, he felt an icy breath on his neck.
Thinking it was the other guests returning, he felt relieved. They finally realized that Xu Baijing’s life was the most precious, right? He turned his head triumphantly.
A ghastly white woman’s face appeared before him. Her disheveled hair framed her features, and her voice was sharp: “Xu Baijing—”
The woman had crimson, gruesome wounds on her neck and face. Her expression was twisted, and her long-nailed hand reached toward him.
It was none other than the female host he had pushed away earlier.
“Ahh! No! It wasn’t me who killed you! Please, don’t come any closer!” Xu Baijing’s courage shattered. Tears and snot flowed together. “It wasn’t me, I swear…”
The female host chuckled ominously behind him.
Xu Baijing scrambled away from that corner, tripping and even bleeding from his nose due to his weak legs. He couldn’t care less about being live-streamed or how the audience would react.
He dared not look back, running for his life. The ground floor of the castle seemed impossibly vast and deserted. Exhausted, he finally stopped at the end of a corridor.
Before him stood a mirror.
“Why is there a mirror here?” Xu Baijing felt a chill. “It wasn’t here before — bad luck, really bad luck…”
He didn’t dare look into the mirror. But as he turned, he caught a glimpse of two figures reflected in it!
Despite the empty space behind him, the mirror showed a woman standing beside him.
She wore an off-the-shoulder black evening gown, her skin as pale as a vampire’s. Half her face was concealed by a black feather fan, and her eyes bore a sinister and disdainful gaze fixed on Xu Baijing. Her lips seemed to say, “Is it you?”
It was none other than Lilith.
Of course, Xu Baijing had no idea about any of this. He only remembered the terrifying legends surrounding this castle—the rumors of vampires appearing on moonlit nights, using their long hair to ensnare victims’ necks…
His throat nearly hoarse, Xu Baijing turned and screamed, “Ahhhh! I was wrong! I truly regret it! Spare me!”
As Xu Baijing turned his head, an even more horrifying sight met his eyes.
The corridor entrance, which had been empty just moments ago, now held a child!
Yes, it was a little boy wearing overalls and clutching a raggedy doll. His laughter was crisp and childlike: “Big brother, my doll’s head is missing. Do you know where it is?”
The laughter seemed to surround Xu Baijing in three dimensions, echoing eerily throughout the space.
Xu Baijing was about to wet himself.
Behind him was the mirror, and before him stood the eerie little boy. His vision blurred, and he fainted.
But suddenly, he felt someone slap him. The force was enough to swell his face like a pig’s head. He woke up again.
With a swollen face, Xu Baijing realized both the boy and the woman had vanished, as if it had all been an illusion. Without pondering the reason, his legs turned to noodles, and he stumbled, barely managing to lean against the wall and run out…
Not far away, he heard voices.
It was a man’s voice, deep and muffled. Though Xu Baijing couldn’t make out the words clearly from a distance, it sounded like a normal person! Maybe the production team had come to rescue him!
Ecstatic, Xu Baijing sprinted toward the source of the sound—
But there was no one there.
The man’s voice persisted, yet the space remained empty. Only a faint blue light occasionally flickered.
And Xu Baijing realized he was back where he started—the ground floor, near the rusty iron door leading to the second floor, the same spot where he had pushed the female host.
Now, the door cracked open, revealing four blood-soaked hands. Strange laughter echoed: “Come here,” “Pay for your sins,” “Justice will be served”…
It was Xu Qianqian and Zhu Bo, playing as ghosts.
Both were professional actors, masters of their craft. They could instantly immerse themselves in character, evoking any emotion required. Combined with the echoing effect of the empty corridor, the atmosphere was chilling.
After enduring so much, Xu Baijing had reached his breaking point: “Ahhh! I can’t take it anymore!”
He ran toward the window. Another second in this castle, and he’d lose his mind. He had to break the window and jump out.
Suddenly, footsteps approached from behind.
Thud, thud.
Xu Baijing froze.
Slowly, he turned to see a well-proportioned young man walking toward him.
Outside, a pallid moon cast silver light on the abandoned tiles.
The young man wore an all-black mask, his back to the dim corridor. His expression was nonchalant. Bending down, he picked up earphones emitting a faint blue glow, switched off the speaker mode, and glanced at Xu Baijing with obscure eyes.
They were a deep crimson.
The color evoked thoughts of blood, accentuating the tear-shaped mole at the corner of his eye.
Dim moonlight filtered through the window, casting a faint glow on the young man’s cheek, fractured by his eyelashes. A crow, seemingly from nowhere, perched on his shoulder, pecking at its own wing. Its glossy black feathers scattered like snowflakes.
Xu Baijing’s skin crawled.
This was no ordinary human. He sensed it instinctively—humans didn’t have skin like this, nor exuded such an aura. It was both thrilling and terrifying…
“Hey,” the young man’s lips curved slightly, his voice irreverent. “Looking for the window? Wrong way.”
He pulled down his mask a bit, revealing sharp bloodstained teeth.
The vampire filter was fully engaged.
Xu Baijing’s face swelled like a pig’s head, panic-stricken and caught off guard. He hesitated, torn between resisting and yielding: “Are you… Are you going to bite me and turn me into a vampire?”
Wen Xingze: “…”
Wen Xingze wanted to be more tactful, but he couldn’t find a gentle way to put it, so he spoke frankly: “No, you’re too ugly. It disgusts me.”
Xu Baijing: “…” In every sense of the word, he wanted to die.
Wen Xingze didn’t want to linger with him. The methods for controlling the vampire filter seemed similar to those for the dragon filter. This setting was quite clever, and Wen Xingze liked it very much.
Similar to the dragon filter, even though the level 1 vampire filter couldn’t do much, it was still effective for scaring people. Vampires excelled at creating illusions, and Wen Xingze had discovered this.
He snapped his fingers.
Perhaps influenced by the filter, Wen Xingze had a sudden idea. He removed his baseball cap and performed a gentlemanly gesture toward Xu Baijing:
“Goodnight, sweet dreams.”
With impeccable manners.
The next moment, Xu Baijing felt everything go black. The ground beneath his feet softened and shifted… When he lowered his terrified gaze, he realized the floor had transformed into bats!
“Ahh!!! Spare me! I know I was wrong! Sob… I’ll never harm anyone again!”
Countless bats swarmed him, buzzing like bees, leaving him with no escape. The pain and the nauseating stickiness felt all too real. Then, abruptly, the bat swarm dispersed, and he plummeted from thirty thousand meters, crashing heavily onto the ground.
He found himself back in the mirrored corridor.
This time, there was no woman in the mirror, no little boy in the corridor. Only a worn, headless ragdoll emitted eerie cries that sounded both like laughter and weeping…
All the accumulated fear erupted within him.
Finally, after a hysterical scream, Xu Baijing lost consciousness completely, lifeless.
In that moment, he vowed never to encounter anything related to vampires again. It was Xu Baijing’s final thought.
________________________
“He’s passed out,” Wen Xingze turned around and apologized to the production team. “I just wanted to remind him he was in the wrong place.”
Xu Baijing lay on the ground like a puddle of mud, his face so swollen that his features were indistinguishable. Upon closer inspection, it seemed he’d even wet himself.
Well, Xu Baijing had already embarrassed himself enough today; this bit didn’t matter.
In the live chat for Ghost 100%, the comments were now flooded with chicken emojis and laughter.
The director and crew: “…”
Behind the scenes, Xu Qianqian, Zhu Bo, and the female host — who had all played the ghostly pranks — gave Wen Xingze a thumbs-up.
Although the prank was a bit childish, they had won this round.
As for whether others enjoyed it, Wen Xingze certainly did. Who knew being a ghost could be so much fun?
“Thank goodness he’s okay,” the director wiped his sweat. Unexpectedly, they hadn’t anticipated this twist. “Um… the live stream was still on. You three, make sure your masks are in place…”
Clearly, Wen Xingze and the others had intentionally played a trick on Xu Baijing. Whether it was the female host pretending to be a ghost, Xu Qianqian and Zhu Boyou reaching out from behind the door, or the earphones left behind by Wen Xingze.
Upon reflection, Xu Baijing had indeed encountered something unclean. He’d screamed at thin air and a mirror, and his face had suddenly swollen. But it was best not to delve too deeply into the reasons.
In the meantime, Xu Baijing’s manager called, ordering them to stop the live stream.
The production team also wanted to stop, but the motto of Ghost 100% was to keep broadcasting no matter what happened, aiming for authenticity. Even the higher-ups said not to stop… So it continued until everything concluded, and the results proved it was the right decision.
The director was equally surprised. Despite the live broadcast mishap, this turned out to be the most explosive episode of Ghost 100% since its premiere. It even generated numerous trending topics.
The barrage of comments scrolled rapidly, layers upon layers, almost indistinguishable. Although it was already past 9 PM, the online viewership had exceeded a million!
[Oh my goodness, that young man is so handsome! The line ‘You’re too ugly, it disgusts me’ should be included in the annual best comeback quotes. It’s so satisfying — I can feel Xu Bailian’s speechless despair.] (Note: play on Xu Baijing's name, 白莲 [Báilián] = white lotus, someone who pretends to be innocent and sweet, but is actually manipulative and scheming)
[The young man really looks like a vampire. Come pin me against the wall and bite me!]
[What goes around comes around. I’m thoroughly enjoying this! Xu Bailian has done plenty of wrong in the past, and now he’s getting his comeuppance. I’ve got the ‘Xu Baijing pig head’ meme and the ‘scared pee’ meme!]
[Justice served! Seriously, justice served. Just for Xu Bailian’s karma and the young man’s good looks, I’m going to spam rocket emojis and cruise ships!]
[The female host and the random passerby did a great job on the spot. The lipstick disguising the wound looked so real. Revenge is sweet — I’m recording this episode to play on loop when I’m feeling down!]
As a celebrity, behaving so disgracefully in front of the camera was an unprecedented event. Xu Baijing’s fans and he himself would have to figure out how to face it all.
As everyone knows, the current Weibo trending topics rarely rely solely on searches. However, this incident was truly bizarre—several topics managed to trend without any marketing or manipulation.
Among them, “#Xu Baijing’s Image Collapse#” and “#Mysterious Young Vampire Is So Handsome#” took the lead, sparking increasingly widespread discussions.
________________________
One hour ago, in a suburban villa in France.
While it was nighttime in China, here it was still early afternoon.
As the villa door opened, Xu Weilian hurriedly stepped forward. The slender old man, supported by a young couple, walked out at a leisurely pace.
“Let’s discuss matters in the garden.”
“Mr. Dong,” Xu Weilian beamed, “Of course. These are some paintings I recently acquired. Please accept them.”
Xu Weilian was one of Xu Baijing’s fathers, of mixed Chinese-French descent, and held a respected position in the international modeling world. Yet, despite his status, the old man treated Xu Weilian with such indifference that he couldn’t say anything.
Who didn’t know about Mr. Dong Heya?
They were legends of the previous generation, their life stories filling several unwritten books. Born in China, Mr. Dong had apprenticed as a tailor during his youth. Later, he traveled abroad and, with his talent, conquered the world as a designer.
For supermodels of the last century, walking a runway in Dong Heya designs was the pinnacle of their careers.
In recent years, Mr. Dong had retreated from the public eye, rarely producing design sketches. Yet, most of today’s fashion designers had once apprenticed under him.
Even Xu Weilian had made several requests through family connections and traveled six hours ahead of time from the city just to catch a glimpse of Mr. Dong.
“Paintings aren’t necessary,” Mr. Dong sipped his tea. “What do you want?”
Dong Heya was always so straightforward.
“To be honest, it’s my son, Xu Baijing…”
Xu Weilian hesitated, suppressing his embarrassment.
Lately, Xu Baijing had lost several endorsements and contracts. Every time he called, he’d berate Xu Weilian, demanding endorsements. Not just any endorsements — only those that could completely overshadow Wen Xingze’s deals, preferably ones designed by Mr. Dong himself.
Xu Weilian didn’t understand why he was so fixated on competing with that obscure minor celebrity. But Xu Baijing’s constant nagging had become unbearable, forcing Xu Weilian to seek this meeting with Mr. Dong.
Of course, he knew the chances were slim. Xu Baijing was slightly above average, but his looks and physique fell far short of modeling standards. His personality and demeanor… well, they weren’t exactly praiseworthy.
Mr. Dong’s discerning eye wouldn’t spare Xu Baijing a second glance, let alone consider him for an endorsement. So Xu Weilian was merely trying his luck, hoping to establish some familiarity with Mr. Dong.
However, after mentioning “Xu Baijing,” the young girl beside Mr. Dong suddenly exclaimed, “Huh?”
Mr. Dong, who doted on his granddaughter, gestured for Xu Weilian to wait and then turned to her. “What’s the matter? Do you like him?”
The girl, just starting junior high, furrowed her little brow in thought. “Not really ‘like,’ but I’ve been following ‘Ghost 100%’ recently. He was a guest, and I think this is the latest episode.
Her Chinese wasn’t very fluent, but Mr. Dong patiently understood her meaning.
“Want to watch the live stream? Grandpa will watch with you,” Mr. Dong said, glancing at Xu Weilian. “Do you mind, Mr. Xu?”
Xu Weilian certainly couldn’t object. In his heart, he fervently prayed that Xu Baijing would behave decently. He didn’t expect to win Mr. Dong over, but at least he hoped Xu Baijing wouldn’t reveal his true nature too blatantly.
One hour later.
Xu Weilian dared not look at Mr. Dong expression.
He always reminded himself to be a good father, rarely losing his temper with Xu Baijing no matter how exasperating he became. But this time, Xu Baijing had truly…
If Xu Baijing stood before Xu Weilian now, he’d find it hard not to slap him. How could he embarrass himself like this? And it was all his own doing — even though he knew the so-called “ghost” was a person in disguise, he couldn’t complain.
Who made Xu Baijing despicable first?
“Snicker—”
Mr. Dong’s granddaughter wanted to burst into laughter. This turned out to be the most entertaining episode for her. Initially annoyed, she now felt thoroughly satisfied—it was so enjoyable!
And that masked young man was incredibly handsome!
But she remembered Xu Weilian was still there, so she stifled her laughter, her face turning red.
Both the granddaughter and Xu Weilian couldn’t help stealing glances at Mr. Dong. The granddaughter had assumed her grandpa would find this variety show “boring” or “a silly farce,” but…
Mr. Dong seemed genuinely engrossed?
Of course, he didn’t laugh, but his expression didn’t resemble boredom either.
After the entire live stream ended, Mr. Dong even had his granddaughter replay the segment they’d just recorded.
He intently reviewed the ending, specifically the half-minute appearance of the young man wearing a mask. From Xu Weilian’s professional perspective, this young man had near-perfect proportions — a true model physique. Moreover, he fell somewhere between youth and adulthood, with a well-defined silhouette.
As he bent down to retrieve the fallen earphones, his body leaned forward, lifting the hem of his shirt, revealing the curve from waistline to spine. It was a captivating arc that held one’s gaze.
The dim, abandoned corridor held both light and breeze.
The camera precisely captured his profile.
Black hair, shallow irises, a straight nose, and a vivid red mole at the corner of his eye. A wisp of hair lifted by the wind made him appear as if he would dissolve into the night, exuding an air of carefree nonchalance.
He truly seemed somewhat otherworldly.
Undoubtedly handsome, it was no wonder he had captivated so many viewers in those brief seconds. Although he turned away from the camera afterward, not revealing his full face, the contours hinted at exceptional beauty.
It was a natural attractiveness, devoid of any deliberate refinement.
Mr. Dong watched this thirty-second clip repeatedly, suddenly breaking into smiles. Mr. Dong addressed Xu Weilian, “Mr. Xu, my apologies, but we don’t have time for further conversation today. Butler, escort our guest out.”
Xu Weilian had already lost all composure.
However, as he followed the butler out of the garden, he overheard Mr. Dong making a phone call to someone:
"Help me find a person, yes, someone from China, likely a celebrity.
“In the last thirty seconds of a variety show, I’ll send you the video later…”
Xu Weilian’s heart skipped a beat. What did Mr. Dong want with that young man?
________________________
Outside Windsor Castle after the conclusion of “Ghost 100%.”
The female host was unexpectedly eager to get their autographs. Clearly, she was grateful; otherwise, she’d have to bear this embarrassment alone. From now on, whenever she saw Xu Baijing, she’d likely avoid him out of fear.
Finally done with everything, Wen Xingze and the others were exhausted and ready to go back for a shower and some sleep.
Before they could step outside, they were startled by a throng of media waiting. Entertainment reporters were a regular fixture around the film studio, but this time, they’d swarmed in like bees. The entire street was almost blocked.
Zhu Bo acted swiftly, pulling Xu Qianqian and Wen Xingze back inside. “Shh, going out there would be like walking into a zombie apocalypse.”
Although most reporters were probably there for Xu Baijing, given the scandal’s magnitude, Xu Baijing was currently unconscious—perhaps the shock had been too much.
Xu Qianqian felt dizzy. “But… isn’t your car parked over there?.. I’m so tired… Xiao Wen?”
“I’ll figure something out.” Wen Xingze didn’t have many options, but he stepped aside and tapped his earpiece. “Teacher Chi?”
Wen Xingze had been chatting with Zhu Bo, Xu Qianqian, the female host, and other production team members. The earpiece had been silent, and maybe Chi Yan had already hung up.
But just as Wen Xingze thought this, Chi Yan’s voice came through.
“I’m here,” Chi Yan responded. “Hmm?”
Wen Xingze said, “My phone’s dead. Can you help me…” — call Xu Qianqian or Zhu Bo’s assistant to come to their rescue.
Without waiting for the full sentence, Chi Yan agreed.
“Of course.”
With that, Chi Yan fell silent.
After a long while.
Finally, a voice came through the earpiece again. Chi Yan’s tone was light, with a faint hint of amusement, different from his usual self-assured demeanor.
“Wen Xingze, look up.”
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Thank You!!! I can't wait for the next update!!!! :)
ReplyDeleteThanks for the hard work ~
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