With this move, the King of Pigeons evolved into the King of Kings.
More people began discussing it. Even those who didn’t watch the movie became curious about this phenomenon. Quite a few pigeon enthusiasts were intrigued and tried to interpret whether this behavior could be achieved through training.
This even led to the creation of the hashtag #BestPigeonPerformance.
The owner of these pigeons was well-known among pigeon enthusiasts in Beijing, and according to him, he hadn’t trained the pigeons. If he had, wouldn’t they win the award for Best Performance?
Some speculated: “Perhaps Lan He has relatives who are skilled at training birds. My grandpa had a rare spiritual bird that could mimic over ten distinct calls. I suspect birds genuinely like him, but maybe they were initially scared because he had a scent pigeons didn’t like?”
Various theories surfaced, all of which contributed to the growing buzz around *Chase*.
Most netizens were just having fun with the memes, commenting “He’s such a dove!” in Lan He’s social media comments.
With such widespread promotion, *Chase*’s box office success soared, but what about the supernatural community in Beijing? Were they paying attention to the news and movies? Many were, and they noticed Lan He’s rising fame.
Had anyone started questioning Lan He’s identity? For the time being, no one had.
The media and audiences were raving about Lan He’s acting, even comparing him to the earlier days of some veteran actors who excelled at playing dead bodies. The analysis highlighted his reversal performance as a major talking point, which further solidified his acting chops. No one would suspect that he was genuinely disembodied during the role.
Besides, people often get trapped in their assumptions. They think they’ve already seen through one layer of the truth. With the previous incident involving Yu Hangjia making such a big splash, where many spiritual masters were invited, Lan He’s role in the matter was clear.
Moreover, Lan He was becoming a well-known actor. No one believed he could also be that famous figure from the underworld. After all, while Lord Lai was capturing Hu Si recently, Lan He was busy promoting his movie.
Even those who thought about life and death’s unpredictability wouldn’t associate someone of Lan He’s emerging status with having such a paternal-like role in the afterlife.
Not even the spiritual master Ying Shao, who prided himself on being Lord Lai’s number one follower, connected the dots. After watching the movie back home, all he could say was, “Whoa, I’m neighbors with this Zhang Xunchun, for real!”
…
Following the crew’s promotional tour, Lan He was feeling a bit dazed. Since Zhang Xunchun’s rise to fame, reporters had been bombarding him with questions, making it hard for him to zone out.
Reporter: “Lan He, I heard that your relationship with Xuan Guang during *Beijing Seasonal Records* wasn’t very good. Is that true?”
Lan He was still a little confused, while Chen Xingyang nearly burst out laughing. He turned his head and asked, “What?”
Reporter: “There are rumors that you may have had some disagreements on set.”
“Who said that?” Lan He found the rumor incredible. How could such talk even arise? “I had no conflict with Xuan Guang. We’re on very good terms.”
Reporter: “Haha.”
Lan He: “…”
… What does “haha” mean??
The reporter had already shifted focus to ask Liu Chunyang a question, while Lan He was still puzzled. What did that chuckle mean? Why did it sound so skeptical?
Of course, the reporter didn’t believe him. The question was based on vague speculation, meant to see if they could stir up some news. With Lan He’s denial, the reporter took it as a tacit admission.
After all, how could Xuan Guang have a “great relationship” with someone he only had minimal interaction with?
Lan He had just gained some fame. Even if he did have a dispute with a writer of Xuan Guang’s caliber, he wouldn’t admit it. But his vehement denial seemed a little too much.
After the interview, Chen Xingyang invited Lan He out for barbecue. Lan He declined, saying, “No, my mom’s coming to visit.”
Even though it was still technically the New Year’s period, since the 15th hadn’t passed yet, Lan He’s mother had bought a ticket to visit him in Beijing, as they couldn’t spend New Year’s Eve together. If she waited any longer, her work would start again. Lan He’s father, on the other hand, had agreed to tutor a relative’s child, so he couldn’t make the trip.
Lan He’s mother’s flight arrived in the daytime, but he had work. He had already informed security to give her the spare key when she arrived, so she was already at his place.
When Chen Xingyang heard this, he immediately said, “Oh, Auntie’s here? Then I have to go over to your place and pay my respects.”
Lan He: “Uh…”
Chen Xingyang: “What?”
Lan He: “Xuan Guang is coming too…”
Chen Xingyang joked, “We should let those reporters follow us and film. How could such a rumor even start?”
“I have no idea,” Lan He was equally puzzled. He sent a WeChat message to both his mother and Song Futan, letting them know that Chen Xingyang would be joining them.
Song Futan replied with a simple, “Mm.”
Chen Xingyang sighed, “Even though Mr. Xuan Guang only said ‘mm,’ I get the feeling he’s not too happy… Hey, where are the reporters? Let me ask them if they misheard. Maybe the one with bad relations with Xuan Guang is me, not you…”
Lan He laughed, “Hahaha!”
Song Futan met them on the way. He had already planned to pick up Lan He, and since Chen Xingyang had already let his assistant go for the day, he decided to catch a ride with Song Futan. After finishing up with his assistant, Chen Xingyang turned to Lan He and asked, “Why don’t you hire an assistant? You’ve been so busy lately.”
Previously, Lan He hadn’t hired an assistant, not even for personal tasks, and he didn’t have one during the film shoots either.
“Ah… The company suggested it, but I said no. I think I’m managing fine for now,” Lan He replied. He didn’t mind the workload, though the company had proposed upgrading his apartment and hiring an assistant to help with his daily life.
But could anyone really manage Lan He’s daily life? Having someone unaware of his situation around would just create more problems.
“Haha, well, you’re pretty tough,” Chen Xingyang teased. “By the way, I remember your mom is Miao, right? Will we need to sing and drink blocking wine when we visit your place? When I went to a Miao village as a tourist, they did that.”
“Are you crazy?” Lan He laughed. “What’s next? Are you worried there might be Gu poison in the wine?”
When they arrived at Lan He’s home, he opened the door and called out, “Teacher Long, we’re back!”
Lan He’s mother came out from the kitchen upon hearing them. Her Han surname was Long, and due to her profession, everyone at home, including Lan He, sometimes called her Teacher Long. She was nearing retirement age, but her eyes were bright, and she looked much younger than her actual years, having taken good care of herself.
Hu 79 followed behind her with her hands behind his back. As a prospective family deity, a guardian spirit, it was her first time meeting Lan He’s mother, but she and Bai Wu had already competed to rub her belly and blow air while she napped earlier in the day.
Song Futan had seen Lan He’s mother on video before, so he recognized her right away. “Auntie.”
Since Lan He had previously said that Song Futan could be a bit stiff, this time, Song made sure not to smile too broadly and maintained a moderate level of warmth, so as not to shock Chen Xingyang.
“Hello, Auntie! Happy New Year!” Chen Xingyang chimed in.
Teacher Long greeted him with a smile, shook his hand, and began to sing: “I’m a golden rooster with eyes that don’t know good from bad, two eyes that can’t recognize a weighing scale star. Poverty weighs heavy, aging me with sorrow, who stands before me now, unrecognized? I ask you, who are you?”
Chen Xingyang: “?????!!!”
Song Futan: “…?”
Lan He’s mother’s voice was clear and resonant, with a slight accent, giving it a flavor of her mountain hometown. Chen Xingyang stood there, dumbfounded as if struck by lightning.
Teacher Long looked sincerely at Chen Xingyang, seemingly waiting for him to respond in song.
“Uh, I’m…” Chen Xingyang’s brain went blank. Why was there a song challenge? Why did he really need to sing back? In his panic, he had no idea whether to speak or sing, and he couldn’t even sing. Was he supposed to rap? He was sweating bullets, looking to Lan He and Song Futan for help, mumbling a nonsensical, “La la la… uh, how… how do I sing?”
Shouldn’t a scriptwriter like Xuan Guang be quicker at thinking up lines on the spot?
“Hahaha, just kidding,” Teacher Long dropped the act and switched to perfect Mandarin. “I often scare Lan He’s friends like this because they’re always curious about whether the Miao people really sing to each other in daily life.”
Chen Xingyang: “…”
Chen Xingyang: “Auntie, you almost scared me to death! I nearly—” He stopped himself from saying he almost “died,” realizing that wouldn’t be very appropriate during the New Year, and instead wiped the sweat from his forehead in relief.
Song Futan also couldn’t help but smile. He had been momentarily stunned as well, but quickly remembered that there hadn’t been anything like this during their video calls. Now, he had a pretty good idea of where Lan He’s playful personality came from.
Lan He laughed heartily, “Are you happy now? You’re the one who wanted to sing, right? Look at you now, completely stunned!”
“…” It took Chen Xingyang a while to recover, and then he made a playful move as if to strangle Lan He. He was beginning to suspect that Lan He had secretly plotted this with his mom just to mess with him.
Teacher Long had prepared the meal and only needed to finish one more vegetable dish. She invited everyone to sit down. “Come, I don’t know if you can handle spicy food, so I only used a little bit. It’s my homemade chopped chili… Also, son, where do you keep the laundry detergent and disinfectant? After we eat, I’ll give the whole place a thorough cleaning.”
“No need, it’s already clean,” Lan He said. After all, it was the New Year, and cleaning seemed to be the perfect way to get into the festive spirit.
“Yeah, it looks spotless to me,” Chen Xingyang added, thinking that Lan He’s place was almost too clean.
—Fox spirits are known for loving cleanliness. With Hu 79 around, how could anything ever be dirty?
Teacher Long responded, “It may look clean to the naked eye, but you’re always so busy. Let me give it a thorough cleaning. How can you start the new year without tidying up?”
Hu 79 widened her eyes and protested, “I don’t agree! I’ve cleaned every corner spotless, not a speck of dust remains! If you find any, I’ll lick it clean! I’ll do a handstand and unclog the drains! I’ll do the butterfly stroke through the pipes!”
Lan He: “…”
But, of course, Teacher Long couldn’t hear Hu 79 and had already made up her mind to clean the entire house. Unless she saw it with her own eyes, no amount of cleaning would satisfy her.
After resting and chatting post-dinner, Lan He escorted Chen Xingyang and Song Futan out of the apartment complex.
As soon as they stepped outside, they noticed a middle-aged man pacing suspiciously near the door across the hall, peeking through the peephole.
With such high tenant turnover, it sometimes made Lan He uneasy. He immediately called out, “Who are you looking for?”
The middle-aged man, surprisingly candid, responded, “Excuse me, do you know where Master Ying Shao is?”
It was freezing cold, and both Chen Xingyang and Lan He had masks or scarves covering their faces, making it hard to tell that they were the actors from the hit film. Lan He, hearing the man’s question, realized he probably wasn’t a bad guy and said, “I think he went back to his hometown for the New Year. He hasn’t returned yet. If you need him, try calling him.”
Chen Xingyang thought for a moment. Ying Shao? That name sounded familiar… Maybe he was known in certain circles.
“I don’t have his number. I just heard he was supposed to return today… Do you have it?” The middle-aged man seemed disappointed when Lan He shook his head. “My daughter is in a bad state, she’s been unconscious. I was hoping he could summon her soul. I heard he’s on good terms with the underworld officials.”
Lan He: “…”
Both Lan He and Chen Xingyang shared a strange look. This man’s faith in such claims was overwhelming. Summon a soul? Underworld officials? Surely, he couldn’t believe such nonsense!
Lan He cleared his throat, “Let’s go.”
He pressed the elevator button, clearly not wanting to continue the conversation.
The middle-aged man, realizing Ying Shao wasn’t there, followed them into the elevator, oblivious to their thoughts. He even assumed Lan He and his neighbors were also believers in these matters. Frustrated, he mumbled, “My daughter fell ill, and I originally wanted to borrow some luck for her. So, I had her worship at the South City God Temple, taking the City God as her godfather. But ever since the worship, she’s been in a coma…”
Hearing this, Lan He’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept quiet.
Chen Xingyang, curious, couldn’t help but ask, “Borrow luck? Is that like swapping fates?” He vaguely remembered something similar from supernatural novels, thinking it sounded ominous.
The middle-aged man explained, “No, no, it’s not that extreme. It’s more about mutually boosting each other’s luck. Back when I was a kid, people would sometimes have those with strong fates serve as godfathers for weaker individuals, or they would worship things like big trees, Guanyin statues, or people with matching astrological signs. But my daughter’s luck was too weak, and she got sick. So, I had her worship the City God…”
Indeed, the method of borrowing luck often involved analyzing the astrological compatibility between two people, or having someone worship ancient, spiritually significant objects like trees. In some cases, taking fingernails or personal items from others could also be considered a way to borrow luck.
As for whether the City God of a temple could be taken as a godfather, theoretically, it was possible.
But the problem lay in the unpredictability of such practices. Not everyone could handle it. And Lan He had already noticed something wrong. Spending so much time around underworld officials recently had made him more aware of these things.
City Gods, like human officials, had ranks—provincial, district, prefecture, and county. The true City God of the capital was the Capital City God. There were only four official Capital City God temples in all of China, one of which was located in Beijing.
So, where did this “South City God Temple” the man mentioned come from?
Technically, a city should have only one city government, and similarly, it should only have one City God temple. However, Beijing had an inner and outer city divide, with the eastern part governed by Daxing County and the western part by Wanping County, which caused overlapping jurisdictions.
The underworld mirrored the living world, so even in the spiritual realm, there were multiple City Gods vying for authority. The Capital City God clashed with other City Gods, who were not satisfied with being under his command. As a result, there were four City God temples: Daxing County, Wanping County, Jiangnan (also known as the South City God Temple), and the Capital City God Temple. The City Gods frequently competed for dominance, even during street parades of their believers.
Lan He knew that the earthly City God temples had fallen into disrepair for a time, leading to City Gods being out of work. However, after the government reorganized administrative regions a few years ago, the Capital City God Temple was restored, and a new City God was appointed.
Now, the capital had only one City God. Though Lan He hadn’t personally met him, he had crossed paths with the City God’s subordinates and had heard of his authority.
However, the other old temples still existed, some even receiving incense offerings from elderly worshippers.
The new Capital City God Temple was well-maintained, and it didn’t open at night. This middle-aged man, possibly afraid his daughter couldn’t handle the powerful City God, likely took her to one of the old temples.
What he didn’t know was that those temples no longer housed deities. Without a guardian, such temples might harbor malevolent spirits. Worshiping an entity in such a place was akin to courting death.
Lan He knew this but didn’t feel it was appropriate to say anything. Keeping a calm demeanor, he suggested, “Maybe try another hospital?”
The middle-aged man glanced at Lan He, surprised, then scratched his head and said, “My wife is also trying to arrange that. We’re exploring all options.”
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out. The man, weighed down by his worries, walked with heavy steps in the cold wind.
“I hope your daughter recovers soon,” Lan He said.
The middle-aged man looked up. “…Ah, thank you.”
Though the young man seemed skeptical about these matters, the middle-aged man could tell that his blessing was sincere.
Chen Xingyang, still intrigued by the story he had just heard, wanted to suggest that Lan He keep an eye on his neighbor’s situation and perhaps help the man’s daughter with her issue.
But Lan He, apparently too cold, hurriedly coaxed Chen Xingyang into getting a cab, practically shooing him off with a cheerful “Goodbye!”
Chen Xingyang: “…”
As Chen Xingyang’s car drove off into the distance, Lan He turned to look at Song Futan.
Song Futan asked, “Are you thinking about helping that girl?”
Lan He nodded, “Yes, I promised Old Bai that I’d fulfill my duties when I can. Besides, this girl seems to have a lost soul…”
The situation reminded him of Song Futan.
Although he didn’t say it outright, Song Futan sensed the deeper meaning in Lan He’s words—was he thinking of him, and feeling unable to turn a blind eye because of that? Song Futan asked, “So, how do you plan to go about it?”
Lan He’s mother, Teacher Long, was still at home cleaning, and doing a soul exit at home wouldn’t be convenient right now. Lan He thought for a moment and said, “I’ll let my mom know where I’m going first. We’ll take the fox with us—she’s good in a fight. Then, we’ll drive somewhere and park. I’ll do the work from there. First, we need to go to the City God Temple and confirm whether the girl’s soul is really trapped there.”
If a malevolent spirit had taken over, then the girl’s soul was likely trapped within the City God Temple. If not… well, then her father really would need to switch hospitals.
After explaining his plan, Lan He paused and reconsidered, “You… I’ll go alone.”
Song Futan wasn’t fond of the dark or the supernatural—he even had an aversion to ghostly practices. The only time he had willingly learned any spiritual incantation was the Golden Wheel Spell, in hopes of dreaming of Lan He.
However, seeing Lan He gradually step into the world of ghosts and gods instead of avoiding it, Song Futan’s perspective seemed to have shifted. At least for Lan He’s sake, he now wanted to be there with him.
Song Futan reached out and adjusted Lan He’s scarf, saying, “I’ll come with you. I can guard your body—maybe even serve as bait or a shield.”
Lan He laughed. Song Futan’s constitution was indeed suited for being bait; no ghost could get a bite out of him, and they’d probably die of frustration. Song Futan’s words, coupled with his understanding of Song’s past, made warmth bloom within Lan He like spring buds sprouting in his heart.
Their gazes met, and for a moment, Lan He was lost in the deep black of Song Futan’s eyes, dark as the night sky. Even though Song Futan had only adjusted his scarf, the warmth from his fingertips seemed to seep into Lan He’s skin. Feeling flustered, Lan He took a step back and muttered, “…Okay, you wait in the car then.”
With that, Lan He pulled his scarf tighter and dashed back inside.
…
“Mom, I’m going over to Xiao Song’s place for a while. No need to wait for me tonight—” Lan He called out as he opened the door, only to find Teacher Long holding Yiping the hedgehog in one hand, with a bowl of water in front of her and a brush covered in foam in the other.
Lan He: “What… what are you doing?”
Teacher Long looked at him innocently and said, “Spring cleaning! I figured since the heating is so warm and the hedgehog didn’t hibernate, I might as well clean its habitat and give it a bath. I saw online that people clean hedgehogs by scrubbing their spines like this…”
Lan He: “…”
… Spring cleaning taken too far.
Hu 79, on the verge of tears, wailed, “I deliberately left this area alone! If I cleaned everything, what would I be? That’s not a mess! Not a mess!”
Meanwhile, Teacher Long seemed to notice something was wrong, as she anxiously waved the hedgehog around. “Son, something’s not right with your hedgehog. It was fine at first. I hadn’t even started cleaning it yet, just took a look at it and gave it a little poke, and then… it kicked its legs and died!”
Lan He: “…”
Author’s Note:
Teacher Long: Found it! You’re the mess that’s missed…
Hu 79: No, no, that’s not it!
Bai Wu: I’m dead, don’t disturb.
Ibam so glad we are getting to meet his mom, wow mc parents who have a personality and aren’t absent 😍