The ghost didn’t notice that Lan He had already split open and continued to explain: “This show has already been performed twice. The first two times weren’t as grand, but it was very popular, surpassing even the previous hit ‘Scolding Yanluo’. It is said that the actors went to great lengths to gather material. Just wait, there’s a long segment of fast-paced cursing at ghosts coming up, demanding that the Road to the Underworld be renamed to Lord Lai’s Road. It’s exhilarating. Also, the living person saved by Lord Lai was so grateful that he burned endless paper money and a huge spirit house for him. I’m so envious. I wish I could be pampered by a living person…”
Song Futian: “…”
…This was about him? Well, he was indeed there.
But the part about burning paper money certainly didn’t happen. They only offered food. This was purely artistic exaggeration.
Song Futian expected Xiao Lai wouldn’t stop the ghosts but thought he would at least grumble a bit. To his surprise, Xiao Lai just wiped away some barely visible tears and said, “That’s not what ‘pampered’ means. Sigh, such a trivial matter made it into the Mulian Opera…”
Song Futian found his appearance amusing, as if he was wronged but holding back from speaking, which improved his mood. “So, you don’t mind?”
“Forget it. Everyone seems to enjoy it. It’s just a story anyway.” Lan He thought to himself, remembering how his first film in school was blocked by the censors. He was so heartbroken back then. He wouldn’t be a mean ghost.
Song Futian smiled slightly, and the two of them watched the entire performance of “Lord Lai Scolding the Ghost Officers in the Underworld.”
The ghosts came up to take their bows, and Lan He applauded even though he didn’t know how they portrayed him. Their singing was excellent, and they looked quite majestic.
Among them were ghosts Lan He had captured. They basked in the applause and kept bowing. The lead actor announced, “Thank you for your applause. I present my head to you!”
With that, he took off his painted face head and threw it down.
The watching solitary ghosts scrambled for it as if grabbing a bouquet, probably symbolizing some good luck in ghost opera.
“…!” Lan He, caught off guard, was immersed in the lively atmosphere and almost cursed when the head flew up. Luckily, he held back, his heart racing. “Let’s go! This is too scary… for you!”
Logically, only Song Futian, the living person, should be scared.
Song Futian was also puzzled but thought, “I’m not scared,” though he accepted Xiao Lai’s good intentions, “Alright.”
Lan He slowly calmed down, not revealing any signs of panic, and walked back with Song Futian.
They sat on the steps by the side gate of the temple, chatting about trivial matters. Lan He felt the tension from his continuous work in the crew gradually easing. Both of them were more relaxed and happy together than alone.
Or perhaps Lan He, relying on his disguise, was even bolder when walking as a ghost.
A monk passing by saw Song Futian sitting alone in the dim entrance, seemingly talking to someone invisible, and cautiously asked, “Amitabha, Mr. Song, do you need help?”
“No need.” The entrance was wide enough for two people to pass side by side, but Song Futian stood up to make way for the monk.
The monk carefully sidestepped through the space Song Futian made, saying, “Excuse me, excuse me.”
—Just like walking past the ashes of paper money, avoiding if possible, and saying “excuse me” if not, to avoid disturbing the ghosts and spirits. The monk knew Song Futian often saw ghosts, and although he couldn’t see them, the entrance must have ghosts.
Lan He sighed, “The monks of Juehui Temple are well-mannered. Well, it’s said they all have at least a college degree.”
“I see them as monks, but they seem quite respectful towards you. What do you count as, a lay Buddhist?” Lan He asked curiously.
Song Futian replied, “If a lay Buddhist who has studied Buddhism for thirty years should show respect to a ten-year-old novice monk, monks are just practicing in the temple. If their practice is not virtuous, they are merely bald fools.”
Lan He laughed heartily, “Makes sense, hahaha—”
In the midst of his laughter, the small door behind them suddenly opened again. Several monks stood there, led by Master Budong, accompanied by monks Si Kong, Si Ming, and the monk who had passed by earlier.
Seeing Master Budong, Lan He stopped laughing abruptly and almost choked on his saliva, “Cough, cough!”
Si Ming asked warily, “What is Futian doing here? We heard you were confronting a ghost at the door and talking to it.”
Song Futian’s smile had not completely faded.
Si Ming, noticing this, looked at where Lan He was, feeling puzzled. Unlike Song Futian, neither he nor Si Kong could directly see spirits unless special practices or conditions were met. However, Si Ming, with his stronger sense, felt a strong yin energy around Song Futian. Despite this, Song Futian seemed relaxed and in a good mood.
Si Ming clutched his prayer beads tightly, “Why are you smiling? What kind of ghost could captivate you like this?”
Song Futian: “…”
The monk who had passed by earlier must have gone to report.
Fortunately, Xiao Lai didn’t take it to heart and floated to the side.
Master Budong’s gaze briefly lingered on Lan He, clearly understanding the situation.
Si Kong, recalling that this wasn’t the first time Song Futian had smiled like this, tried to intervene, “Brother, wait…”
“Master,” Song Futian had to introduce, “this is my friend.”
Si Ming: “!!”
He was stunned. Did this mean Song Futian had befriended a ghost? Impossible!
Since Si Ming had known Song Futian, ghost harassment had always been his biggest trouble, often putting him in life-threatening situations.
Even though Si Ming couldn’t see the ghost, he almost shouted, “Master, has the Red Lotus Body been tainted? After guarding your heart for over twenty years, have you been bewitched by a ghost?”
To his surprise, Master Budong nodded, “Alright.”
“Good day, Master,” Lan He greeted shyly. It was his third time meeting Master Budong, and he had just spoken. The Master’s penetrating gaze reminded him of a stern headteacher, making him feel an innate respect.
Master Budong’s clear eyes seemed to see through everything, but he remained kind, bowing slightly, “Greetings, Lord Impermanence.”
This left not only Si Ming but even Si Kong astonished.
Did this mean the ghost by Song Futian’s side was a death officer without malice towards him? Master Budong had never been this courteous to a death officer before.
Si Ming, recalling the events of the past few days, suddenly had a realization. None of the brothers were familiar with a death officer. Could it be that this was “that” death officer?
If so, regardless of how they became friends, at least the death officer had helped Song Futian out of respect for him.
Seeing Lan He’s hesitation to speak to him, Master Budong smiled gently, “No need for formalities, Lord Impermanence. You are a guest here.”
“Thank you, Master.” Lan He could hardly believe it. The old monk was so formidable, yet his attitude was much better than Lan He had imagined.
However, with the monks coming out, Lan He felt he couldn’t stay any longer. “Uh, Master, it’s getting late. I’ll head back now.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Song Futian immediately offered.
Watching Song Futian escorting a ghost, Si Ming pondered aloud, “Master treats him with special regard because of Futian, loving the house and its crow!”
Master Budong knocked Si Ming on the head and scolded, “When meeting a swordsman, present a sword; if not a poet, do not speak poetry. This Impermanence is far superior to you.”
Si Ming scratched his head, wincing from the pain. What kind of person was this Impermanence that Master held in such high esteem?
Song Futian walked Lan He to the crossroads.
“Thank you, Xiao Song,” Lan He said, thinking, ‘Ah, right, his name.’
“You’re welcome.” Song Futian turned to him, feeling he should have said this earlier, “My name is Song Futian.”
“Is it ‘Futian’ as in ‘sandalwood’? Song Futian… I’ll remember that.” Lan He felt a stir in his heart. Right, he was still wearing his disguise.
He almost felt like revealing his true name to this new friend, which even surprised himself. Since childhood, he had never confided in anyone about his ability to see ghosts. He never mixed the affairs of the living and the dead, always hiding behind a disguise.
Since working as a Impermanence, he had this unique experience and special friend, the first time without precedent.
“I’m leaving, Xiao Lai. Goodbye.” Song Futian didn’t know what Lan He was thinking, but this parting was easier for him, feeling a certainty they’d meet again.
“Mm… alright.” Lan He felt conflicted. Maybe now was too abrupt to reveal anything. Besides, interacting with humans was different from dealing with spirits like Hu 79 and Old Bai.
But he had to admit, the name Song Futian sounded pleasant, evoking a faint scent of sandalwood when spoken.
While Lan He was lost in thought, a voice suddenly echoed from below, “Why do you avoid me when I tell you my name, but you’re happy to hear his?”
Lan He was startled and turned around.
A fox face emerged from the bushes, speaking human words.
Lan He didn’t recognize the face but knew the voice. He had just thought of Hu 79, and there she was, nearby. “79th Lady? Why are you here…”
He almost suspected Hu 79 had been following him. They had just parted not long ago.
Hu 79 limped out of the bushes. Lan He then noticed her pitiful state: a chunk of flesh missing from her leg, half her tail severed, blood dripping. His face changed, “What happened to you?”
“Sigh…” Hu 79 weakly replied, “I met with a disaster, and coincidentally ran into you.”
Lan He reached out to press on one of her wounds, “A disaster?”
“I live nearby on Shangqiu Mountain. I planned to deliver money and food to Miao Gan Mountain and visit the First Lady to see if I could find a job.” Hu 79 winced in pain, gritting her teeth, “You may not know, the money and food obtained by the four major altars of immortals must be accounted for daily and reported to the goddess. Offerings must be burned on the first and fifteenth of each month, entering the goddess’s treasury for distribution among the immortals.
“I was originally a household spirit, delivering a portion of the Yang family’s offerings to the treasury. This time, after leaving the Yang family, I still had outstanding accounts, so I delivered them myself. My offerings were marked with Miao Gan Mountain’s seal, publicly known. But on the way, a damned yellow weasel ambushed me, hiding its presence. I sniffed it out—it was from the Huang family! That scoundrel not only dared to rob the offerings for the goddess but also tried to take my inner elixir. If I hadn’t escaped quickly…”
The term “Huangpizi” refers to the Huang Immortal, or yellow weasels, known for being the most sinister among the Four Great Sects. In the capital, the immortals of the Four Great Sects are well acquainted with each other, so it’s no wonder the robber hid their identity. Unfortunately for them, Hu 79 was also very perceptive and identified their origin.
Regarding the inner elixir, the Four Great Sects have different cultivation methods. Some worship the moon, others pass trials, and many Hu Immortals practice alchemy. The inner elixir is the embodiment of their vital energy and cultivation. If it were taken, it would reduce them to ordinary beings, highlighting its importance.
Miao Gan Mountain was too far, so Hu 79 fled to Juehui Temple, knowing there were eminent monks there. She sought refuge but stayed at a distance out of caution, unexpectedly encountering Lan He—she thought Lan He’s claim of having an acquaintance at Juehui Temple was false, but it turned out to be true as he was saying farewell.
Though Lan He didn’t fully understand the intricacies, he saw the formerly vibrant Hu 79 battered, “That robber was too ruthless, your tail is even severed.”
“The wounds on my leg and internal organs were inflicted by him.” Hu 79 glared at her tail, “I severed my own tail.”
Lan He was shocked, “What?”
Hu 79 angrily replied, “In the Hu family, revenge is inevitable. Though I don’t know his identity, I vowed by severing my tail. Once I find out who he is, I will retaliate!”
Lan He took a deep breath. No wonder people said Hu and Huang were both very sinister; Hu 79 was incredibly fierce.
Remembering that her claw had saved him, Lan He said, “Is that guy still following you? Otherwise, I could take you to the temple for shelter. My friend there could help. Or, I could take you to Miao Gan Mountain?”
Hu 79 turned her face away, whining, “I still owe Miao Gan Mountain money and food. In this state, with a severed tail, how could I face them before exacting revenge? If only there were some high-quality incense now, it would be more helpful than any superficial concern.”
Lan He: “…”
Superficial? Does your family know?
Hu 79 glanced at him, whimpering, “I just need some rest. Once I recover, I’ll seek revenge. Who knows if I’ll survive? If a kind-hearted person could offer some support, it might provide some comfort. Then, I wouldn’t die in vain.”
Lan He: “…Is it that bad? Alright, I’ll get you some incense.”
Everything in life has its destined path. She had saved him with her claw, and now it was his turn to repay the favor.
Hu 79 might have exaggerated, but for these immortals, consuming offerings was very important. Doing good deeds usually exchanged for this—gods relied on people’s spirits.
…
Lan He took Hu 79 to his apartment, “Wait a moment, I’ll find… I remember I hung some incense to dry.”
Luckily, it was ready. Lan He set up a small incense hill for Hu 79 to consume.
As she gobbled down the incense, Hu 79 mumbled, “Can you build a God of Wealth shrine for me at your doorstep, to the right? It’s the White Tiger position. Though we Hu Immortals don’t like living in those shrines, it’s about respect. The Yang family built a huge one, made of bricks and tiles, but it’s in another house, you didn’t see it. Some people build shabby ones, just a broken wooden box, treating us like dogs.”
“I’m only letting you stay temporarily to recover. I never said I would host a spirit. You can’t be discovered in my home either,” Lan He dashed Hu 79’s dreams of a grand shrine. “Besides, this isn’t my house. It’s rented by the company. Building a shrine at the entrance would block the fire escape and create a safety hazard.”
Hu 79: “…”
Feeling wronged, Hu 79 asked, “At least a censer, right?”
Incense was food and medicine for her. A censer was not just a bowl but had a sacred meaning. She couldn’t always eat with bare hands. For immortals, the ash from the censer was called “furnace medicine” and was very useful.
“You can buy a censer, but I can’t have one at home,” Lan He said, understanding well from his years of acting, “I’ll get you a stainless-steel bowl. You’ll have to make do.”
Thinking she was getting a good deal, Hu 79 sighed deeply when all she got was a stainless steel bowl, “Sigh… alright.”
Lan He searched for a while and suddenly asked, “You’re a canine, right? Can you use flea and tick medicine like Frontline?”
“??” Hu 79 exclaimed, “What’s the difference between you and those who use a box as a shrine?!”
“Not much,” Lan He admitted, “What else do you need? I’ll prepare everything for you now so you won’t be lacking anything when I’m not here.”
“Ah? Where are you going?” Hu 79 asked nervously, wondering if he wouldn’t be staying home burning paper money and rolling incense every day. Wasn’t a minor actor supposed to rest for a long time after finishing a film?
“In a few days, I have to join another crew,” Lan He explained. “I’ll leave this place for you to stay. I’ll be gone for over a month. Don’t shed hair randomly in my house. If you do, use the robot vacuum cleaner to clean it up. Can you use it?”
The production of “Dreams of Youth” had already started, and his scenes were scheduled for later.
Hu 79: “…Yes, I can use it.”
Lan He then asked, “My kitchen drain seems clogged. Can you fix it?”
Hu 79: “…”
…
The next day, Lan He prepared to visit Chen Xingyu’s house, and Hu 79 insisted on going with him, “This immortal has watched Chen Xingyu’s dramas but has never seen her in person! This immortal wants to see the beautiful lady!!”
Lan He: “…”
He suddenly remembered that the First Lady had said the goddess thought Chen Xingyu was beautiful, which is why she gave her Miaomiao.
Lan He showed Hu 79 the claw of the Hu family’s First Lady, “Is it okay to look at the beautiful lady’s claw?”
Hu 79 lay flat on the clean floor, “I just have a small wish.”
Lan He remained unmoved, “How old are you, calling her sister? You’re crippled, with only half a tail left, so stop thinking about running around.”
It must have taken several hundred years of cultivation to become like Hu 79.
Hu 79, thinking she was getting a good deal, was now metaphorically stabbed repeatedly, tears streaming down. She should have known since the roast chicken incident that she couldn’t take advantage of this Impermanence, “I beg you, this immortal won’t come out. I’ll hide in a matchbox just to take a glance at the beautiful… beautiful lady.”
Lan He reluctantly agreed.
Hu 79 squeezed into a matchbox, and Lan He took her to Chen Xingyu’s neighborhood. The environment was great, and many people in the entertainment industry lived there. They were quite cautious about allowing outsiders in.
Lan He even saw some peacocks wandering freely in the community. However, when they saw Lan He, they ran away. He didn’t know if they were simply afraid of strangers or if they were too perceptive and sensed Hu 79’s presence.
The only downside was that the buildings were hard to find. The layout was so confusing that even a resident could get lost. Lan He had to call Chen Xingyu to have Old Lin come down to fetch him.
“Here he comes! Our house is filled with your music every day. Miaomiao will be thrilled to see you,” Old Lin said, hugging Lan He and patting his shoulder as they walked together.
Lan He smiled and asked a few questions about Miaomiao’s current situation. As they chatted, Old Lin noticed someone and signaled Lan He with a glance before raising his voice, “Director Song, back already?”
Song Qiyun, Director Song, also had a place in their community. Chen Xingyang’s previous film was his, and Old Lin was the manager for both Chen Xingyang and Chen Xingyu, so they were all familiar with each other.
“Oh, Xiao Lin.” Song Qiyun nodded, “Just got back.”
“Director Song, let me introduce you to Lan He.” Old Lin pulled Lan He closer, “He’s like a younger brother to me, an excellent actor. He just finished filming ‘Chase’ with Director Liu Chunyang, playing the second male lead. Have you heard of it? Liu Chunyang handpicked him, modeling him after Xingyang.”
Lan He had some exposure before but hadn’t quite entered Song Qiyun’s radar. He only knew that after finishing his own film, Chen Xingyang went on to star in Liu Chunyang’s project. And recently, there was an incident with a Hu Immortal on that set, where Liu Chunyang even asked him for a recommendation for a monk.
Many people wanted to recommend actors to Song Qiyun or even volunteer themselves. He had seen too many and never listened to others’ praise, only trusting his own judgment. The moment he saw Lan He, he thought, ‘Hmm, good presence, nice bone structure, suitable for the screen.’
Moreover, he knew Liu Chunyang had a good eye. If Lan He was cast, his acting skills must be up to par. Although Old Lin was being enthusiastic and even said Xingyang was chosen based on Lan He, it almost made Song Qiyun think they were actually related. “Is that so? I don’t remember you mentioning this younger brother before.”
“Adopted. Xingyu invited him over.” Old Lin said candidly, “Director Song, let’s add each other on WeChat. If there are suitable roles in the future, I’ll bring him to audition.”
Old Lin and Chen Xingyu were genuinely grateful to Lan He and could tell that Lan He had mainly tolerated their previous disturbances for Miaomiao’s sake. So when they saw Song Qiyun, they hurriedly introduced Lan He, hoping to establish a connection for future opportunities.
“Haha, sure.” Song Qiyun casually added him. After all, Lan He seemed decent enough, and it wouldn’t hurt to give this courtesy. Whether it would be useful in the future was another matter.
“Thank you, Director Song.” Lan He smiled politely.
Only then did Song Qiyun notice that when Lan He smiled, he had dimples. It was said that dimples on a boy’s cheeks were a sign of intelligence. Whether Lan He was smart, he didn’t know yet, but his smile was certainly very friendly. As they continued walking together, he asked casually, “Where are you from?”
“Western Hunan province,” Lan He replied.
“I heard people from your place practice Gu witchcraft.”
Here we go again. Lan He often heard such remarks. Chen Xingyang had said similar things. He touched the matchbox in his pocket and replied routinely, “There are such legends, but I don’t like bugs, so I don’t practice it.”
—Later, when Song Qiyun would question him with a confused face, “Lan He, didn’t you say you don’t practice Gu witchcraft?” Lan He would confidently respond, “I said I don’t practice Gu. I didn’t say my family doesn’t have Hu Immortal, nor did I say I don’t walk as an Impermanence!”
“Indeed, with Lan He’s upright aura, even Gu and bugs avoid him. He doesn’t believe in such things. What’s strange loses its power. Our Miaomiao used to see bad things, but after staying with Lan He, it stopped.” Old Lin praised.
“Did you get along well with Liu Chunyang’s crew?” Song Qiyun asked, smiling.
Old Lin enthusiastically explained Lan He’s fearless actions, like drawing a pig head for Liu Chunyang and the rumor that Liu Chunyang was so scared he sought comfort from Lan He. The stories amused Song Qiyun.
Lan He added, “Everything was fine, except Director Liu’s eating habits caused us a lot of trouble. I always suspected the Hu Immortal was Xingyang’s prank on Director Liu, given he was the only one sleeping nearby those nights.”
Both Song Qiyun and Old Lin burst into laughter. Even knowing the real story, it sounded somewhat plausible.
“Alright, I’m heading up.” Reaching his building, Song Qiyun bid them farewell.
As he turned, Song Qiyun mused that this actor, Lan He, reminded him a bit of the protagonist in his son’s new script. It was just a fleeting thought, though.
He had also noticed recently that his son, Song Futian, wasn’t particularly keen on discussing this script or character. Every time he mentioned an actor resembling “Xiao Lai,” his son would become more irritable and sarcastic, showing a clear disinterest in the project.
But Song Qiyun really liked that script. He brought it up again, sending his son a message: “Today, I saw a young actor who truly has that ‘Xiao Lai’ vibe. His smile is very charming, with warm eyes and dimples… So, what do you think of dimples?”
Lan He’s dimples were indeed distinctive, sweet, but the question was whether it matched Song Futian’s imagination.
Song Futian quickly replied but was blunt: “Not much.”
Author’s Note:
Lan He: Hmm?
The fact that in reality they are truly so close together 😭