AGJN 051: You Still Say There’s No Navy in the Underworld

Even though Lan He and Song Futan had confirmed their relationship, it had only happened last night. After Hu 79 said that, Lan He was speechless and felt too embarrassed to look at Song Futan.

Song Futan, however, thought this fox was rather eloquent. Wasn’t this exactly like the red thread of fate? But naturally, he had to defend Lan He: “It seems you’ve just seen too little of the world.”

Hu 79: “I’ve seen too little? Find me another person in this world who uses a Soul Hook in this way!”

Lan He: “Uh… What does it matter to me if they’re single?”

Hu 79: “…”

Could it be that if they weren’t single, they’d have this kind of creativity? Not necessarily! Hu 79 clicked her tongue and said, “Have you ever thought about how you’ll use the Soul Hook in the future?”

Lan He was indeed shaken up; when he had dismantled the Soul Hook, he hadn’t considered the consequences. He didn’t even know if the underworld would punish him for damaging public property. Trying to act tough, he said, “Can’t I just cast the hook directly? This is like a ghost-fishing expedition where the dead take the bait…”

Hu 79: “………”

By then, Song Futan had already started the car.

“Drive slower, slower. I hardly ever get to see a temple…” Hu 79 said, as temples like this one weren’t places she could enter freely by herself. At that moment, the temple was echoing with the continuous sound of bells, and tourists were coming and going. Since Hu 79 always enjoyed lively scenes, of course, she was reluctant to leave.

Lan He simply said, “Then let’s take a stroll. Juehui Temple is in its prime now.”

In old capital folk songs, eight major Spring Festival temple fairs were famous: borrowing gold ingots from the God of Wealth Temple, striking the great bell at Juehui Temple, tying a baby charm at Dongyue Temple, touching the monkey spirit at Baiyun Temple, watching fire judgments at the City God Temple, admiring lanterns at Chongyuan Temple, showing off treasures at the Fire God Temple, and the Fair of Changdian being the best in the capital.

Although Juehui Temple’s ancient bell can now only be struck once a year, there are still many other bells that tourists can strike to pray for blessings.

Lan He wrapped himself tightly before getting out of the car, but even so, he still felt as though someone was staring at him. When he looked around, it turned out to be a few monks.

“Why are they looking at me? Did they recognize me?” Lan He said in horror. “Oh no, has *Chase* gotten this popular?”

Song Futan chuckled softly: “Maybe they’re just looking at you.”

What’s the difference? Lan He realized something when he glanced down at his hands—he was still holding the staff given to him by the immovable monk…

Lan He didn’t know this, but the immovable monk’s vintage wooden staff was quite famous. Naturally, people were curious about how it ended up in his hands.

“Almost forgot! No wonder it felt a little off.” Lan He broke into a sweat and quickly put the staff back in the car. When he returned, no one paid him any more attention.

Nowadays, whether it’s a temple or a Taoist monastery, people love to toss coins for good luck. The most famous place for this is Baiyun Temple, where people try to throw coins into a hole, but slowly, other places have adopted this practice.

Juehui Temple is most famous for its bell-striking, but even so, tourists still throw coins at the Buddha statues in the outdoor pool. Ten yuan would get you thirty coins, and landing them on the Buddha statue was naturally the goal.

Seeing so many people tossing coins, Lan He exchanged ten yuan for thirty coins and gave ten to Song Futan, squeezing into the crowd to join the fun. Song Futan tossed a few, but his aim wasn’t great.

“I’ll give it a try too.” Lan He rubbed his hands together. He had come here once before with friends, and back then, he hadn’t hit a single one. But now, with his newfound precision, he tossed five coins in a row, and all of them landed in the Buddha’s outstretched hand…

For a moment, the scene seemed to fall silent. The statue was so large that most people could only hit the base or, if they were lucky, the folds of the robe. Hitting the Buddha’s hand was extremely rare.

And he had landed five in a row, so clearly that even children were on the verge of tears: “Why can’t I hit it—”

Hu 79’s top-tier enthusiasm flared up as she yelled wildly from her backpack: “Keep throwing! Let’s see who can match our master’s aim!”

Lan He: “…”

Lan He adjusted his scarf and tossed the remaining fifteen coins one after another. Each one landed squarely in the Buddha’s hand.

The crowd at the poolside fell silent, and many people stopped throwing coins, staring instead at the Buddha’s hand. Some even started counting: “Ten, eleven, twelve…”

In the end, they counted twenty. Someone had thrown twenty coins in a row, and all of them had landed in the Buddha’s hand!

“Incredible!” With so many people around, most couldn’t see exactly who had thrown the coins, but they could tell it had come from the same direction, and the rhythm suggested it was likely all thrown by one person.

With such accuracy, it seemed like a professional had come along.

After finishing his throws, Lan He melted into the crowd, hiding his skills and his fame.

As they strolled through Juehui Temple, the sound of large and small bells echoed all around. Lan He noticed someone standing with a monk, someone who looked somewhat familiar and had bandages wrapped around their head. He quickly tugged Song Futan to turn away.

Song Futan: “What’s wrong?”

Lan He: “I just saw last night’s ‘meat incense’…”

Not only had they called the police last night, but they had also come to Juehui Temple today to pray for blessings. Lan He was curious and had Song Futan hold the backpack while he pretended to casually wander around, ending up near them. After all, there were plenty of other worshippers listening to their conversation.

The person with the ‘meat incense’ still had an expression of fear: “…So when I woke up, I found myself like this, with a hole in my head and White Impermanence beside me. Later, when the police checked, the statues in the City God Temple were all shattered!”

The worshippers around them murmured in confusion, and it seemed like a new urban legend was about to be born.

The “meat incense” guy swore, “I’m absolutely not lying! The White Impermanence even had ‘Since I’m already here’ written on his hat…”

The worshippers: “What’s this ‘Since I’m already here’? Are you telling a story?”

“Meat incense” guy: “I have the police report! If you don’t believe me, go check for yourselves if the City God Temple statues were smashed. Also, do you really think I’d drill a hole in my own head?”

The monk solemnly responded, “If White Impermanence’s hat truly had ‘Since I’m already here’ written on it, then what he says must be true. You all may not know this, but there are differences between Black and White Impermanence. Some White Impermanence’s hats say ‘Peace under Heaven,’ but the ones with more fiery tempers have ‘Since I’m already here’ written on them…”

Someone in the crowd even chimed in, “That’s right, that’s right, I think I’ve heard something similar!”

Lan He: “………”

What happened to monks not lying? When did I become the one with a fiery temper??

Lan He couldn’t listen any longer and walked away. “That’s it, my reputation’s ruined. A new custom is really going to emerge now—I’m hearing people explain that White Impermanence with a temper has ‘Since I’m already here’ on their hat.”

“That kind of makes sense,” Hu 79 said. “Impermanence spirits admire Lord Fan and Lord Xie, and that’s why they started copying their habit of writing on their hats. Now that you’re getting famous, maybe someone will start imitating you too. They’ll copy your inscriptions, and even your temper, and boom—new school of thought. Hehehe.”

Lan He: “…”

Hu 79 continued, “Unless everyone knows you’re Living Impermanence, then the Taoist priests won’t dare spread nonsense.”

Lan He muttered, “Revealing my identity is impossible, absolutely impossible in this lifetime. I need to warn Ying Shao again.”

…

As they were nearing Lan He’s house, Song Futan’s uncle called him, seemingly to discuss the preparations for a new film. Since Song Futan didn’t want to be too far from Lan He, he arranged to meet his uncle at a nearby café.

After hanging up, he said to Lan He, “Nanyun Temple will send the temple treasure over in a few days, and I’ll hand over the Baiyun then… Also, I’ll be renting a place in the same building as you.”

Actually, Song Futan thought living together would be great, moving into his own place. But last night’s kiss seemed to have startled Lan He. If he poured out all his thoughts, he feared he might scare Lan He off…

“Alright, we’ll keep our distance. I’ve seen Brother Yan take his time catching spirits, as long as we’re careful, it should be fine,” Lan He replied.

Song Futan understood. He had to head to the café for the meeting. But as he calmly thought it over, wasn’t it normal to kiss your lover goodbye before parting?

Lan He was about to get out of the car. He saw that Song Futan still had his hands on the steering wheel, his face cool and handsome, seemingly lost in thought—probably about the new movie. “Goodbye, Mr. Xuang…”

Before he could finish, Song Futan pulled him over and kissed him several times, the last one landing on the tip of his nose. Then he reached across to open the door for him.

Lan He: “……#@%￥#”

He nearly stumbled as he stepped out of the car, feeling a little dizzy from the kisses…

“Shut up, Fox, don’t even think about speaking.” Lan He rubbed his head and stopped Hu 79 before she could say anything. He entered the residential area and stepped into the elevator. As he pressed the close button, he heard someone shout, “Wait!” He quickly hit the open button again.

Three people, carrying bags, rushed into the elevator. When he looked up, he realized it was his neighbor and two of his junior disciples. He politely nodded, “Back already?”

Hearing his voice, Ying Shao abruptly raised his head, then instinctively took a large step back, only to get pinched by the elevator doors.

“Ow, what’s the matter with you?” That step back was way too dramatic. Lan He quickly pressed the button, concerned, “Did you forget something?”

Earlier, Lan He had said he’d warn Ying Shao again. Now, seeing his performance, he thought it was really lacking—he was way too flustered at the sight of him.

One of Ying Shao’s junior disciples quickly held the door, “Brother, what’s wrong?”

Ying Shao stammered, “N-nothing. I just thought I forgot something. Haha!”

He let out a couple of soul-less laughs.

Lan He: “Glad to hear it.”

One of Ying Shao’s junior disciples eagerly pulled out a pen and paper, wanting Lan He’s autograph. “Brother, you’ve got to get his signature! You didn’t think of it before, but after watching *Chase* recently, I figured I should collect Lan He’s autograph.”

“Brother, tell us about it. Didn’t you go catch a soul last night? How’d it go?” The other disciple shook Ying Shao’s hand. “Did you make a lot of money?”

Ying Shao: “…”

He did make money… but he also burned three million yuan for his employer…

Last night, after he brought Mr. Yu back, Yu Hangjia cried when he found out. He cried so much that when his father woke up, he was moved to tears, too—turns out he’s a filial son. Yu Hangjia, though heartbroken, still paid the fee. So today, Ying Shao had bought a bunch of snacks and fruits he’d never been able to afford before and planned to indulge.

His junior disciple thought Ying Shao was hesitating because of Lan He and chuckled, “We’ve been neighbors for so long. Whether we’re scammers or spiritual experts, Mr. Lan doesn’t mind.”

Lan He even smiled a little, “That’s right.”

Ying Shao: “…………”

If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes last night with Master Melon, he would’ve thought it was all just a dream.

“Why do you think this kind of actor wasn’t famous before? Such a hidden talent!”

The elevator arrived, and Ying Shao’s junior disciples rushed out to hold the door, while Lan He stepped closer to Ying Shao, intending to talk to him.

Ying Shao, under too much pressure, flinched and instinctively moved back to a corner, clutching his bag of snacks a little tighter.

The smell of gluten snacks was starting to get overwhelming…

Lan He: “…”

…What a stingy person!

Lan He was speechless. He whispered to Ying Shao, “Don’t go out for the next few days, and send your junior disciples away too. I’ve set some things aside for you and Melonhead.”

With Teacher Long around, it wasn’t convenient to handle everything, so they agreed to divide the ash in a few days.

Seeing Lan He, with his face, saying lines that belonged to Lord Lai, Ying Shao was momentarily dazed. Trembling, he nodded.

As soon as he exited the elevator, Ying Shao received a message from a fellow exorcist: “Old Ying, Old Ying, I heard you summoned Lord Lai to fight last night! Amazing! Spill the details!” He couldn’t help but shed a couple of silent tears.

Then, Lan He opened his door, and his mom called from inside, “I still think we should give that hedgehog of yours a bath.”

Ying Shao: “…”

…Was she talking about *that* hedgehog?

.

.

.

Meanwhile, *Chase* was a massive box-office success, breaking new records in just two weeks of release. Despite just burning through millions, Yu Hangjia kept his promise and hosted a celebration banquet for the crew, renting out a luxurious hotel banquet hall in the capital.

With Teacher Long in town, Lan He brought her along to the event, which also allowed him to leave Hu 79 and Bai Wu at home to recover. Teacher Long assumed Song Futan was just giving them a lift, unaware that he had quickly moved into the same building…

Lan He felt a bit like a student caught dating under the watchful eye of the class monitor. Once they arrived, he tried to play it cool, “Teacher Xuang, did you come just to celebrate Director Liu? Look, there’s Director Liu over there.”

Song Futan played along and walked toward Liu Chunyang, who was chatting with Yu Hangjia and others. Melonhead Immortal wasn’t there—perhaps recovering from injuries. Song Futan greeted Liu Chunyang calmly, “Director Liu, congratulations.”

“Uh??? What????” Liu Chunyang was utterly confused. “…Thanks???”

Why was Xuang Guang here? He wasn’t part of the crew, but they couldn’t just kick him out, could they?

Yu Hangjia, however, reacted quickly, “Xuang Guang, I heard your new script is in the works. Is Old Dou not giving you enough support?”

For a moment, everyone thought Yu Hangjia had specifically invited Xuang Guang. Especially those who overheard about the new script—they were all abuzz.

…

Lan He surveyed the large banquet hall. The celebration was well-attended, with most of the core cast and crew present. He even saw Cheng Haidong, whom he hadn’t seen in a while. Of course, it had been even longer for Cheng Haidong—Lan He had actually seen him once in his role as Impermanence during an out-of-body experience.

“Mom, this is the cinematographer for our crew, and also my friend, and a fellow Hunanese.” Lan He introduced Cheng Haidong to Teacher Long.

“Nice to meet you, Auntie,” Cheng Haidong shook hands with Teacher Long. Being from the same province gave them an instant connection. Even though they weren’t from the same city, Cheng Haidong loved to chat, and he lavished praise on her, making Teacher Long very happy.

“You just finished with another crew?” Lan He asked after escorting Teacher Long to the refreshments table, noticing that Cheng Haidong looked thoroughly exhausted, like he had just moved a mountain of bricks.

Cheng Haidong stretched his neck. “Yeah, wrapped up the other day. I was working hard even on New Year’s Eve. At noon, I had a drink with a friend… Oh, right, check this out.”

He suddenly remembered something and fished a small box out of his bag. Inside was a porcelain vase, only about two palm widths tall, small and quaint. “What do you think?”

Lan He didn’t know much about porcelain. “Is it… a vase?”

“Sigh… My friend from today’s drink owes me ten thousand yuan. Since it’s New Year’s, it’s awkward to press for payment. He said he got this antique vase from the Republic of China and gave it to me as partial payment. He swears it’s legit, made by a ceramics company whose predecessor was an imperial kiln during the Ming and Qing dynasties, known for its craftsmanship. I’m planning to take it for appraisal and see how much it’s worth.”

Cheng Haidong couldn’t help but admire the vase. “I don’t really know much about porcelain either, but I know his family elders have an eye for this stuff. I think it’s the real deal—seems to have some age to it, right?”

Lan He wasn’t an expert in this area either. “If it’s real, maybe you shouldn’t sell it just yet. It could appreciate in value.”

“I’m worried about waiting too long. Better to cash in while I can.” As Cheng Haidong spoke, the toast at the event began, so he quickly stowed the vase and raised his glass. “To success!”

At events like this, drinking was inevitable. Since Lan He had brought Teacher Long, he didn’t drink much. Song Futan, however, got stuck in conversation with Yu Hangjia and couldn’t get away. Originally, he had planned to stay close to Lan He the whole time, but now he might have regretted it.

Cheng Haidong, having just finished a job, drank heavily and soon became bleary-eyed. “I’m so stuffed… I need to go to the bathroom…”

“I’ll hold your bag for you,” Lan He offered.

“No, no, it’s too valuable…” Cheng Haidong clutched his bag and wobbled off toward the restroom, making Lan He chuckle. He really seemed to have struck gold.

Cheng Haidong leaned against the wall as he made his way to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he washed his hands and splashed water on his face. As he bent over, his stomach felt even more bloated, and he started to feel nauseous. Gripping the sink, he felt like he was about to throw up.

But when Cheng Haidong looked down, he found that his porcelain vase, which had been in his shoulder bag, was now on the sink, filled with delicious food from the banquet.

It smelled amazing…

Cheng Haidong, completely numbed by alcohol, didn’t find it strange at all that the vase had mysteriously appeared on the sink. He even grabbed a dumpling and stuffed it into his mouth.

It was really delicious.

But his stomach was already so full that it felt like the food and drink were about to come back up…

“So full, so full.” Despite saying this, Cheng Haidong couldn’t stop himself from shoveling more food into his mouth.

…

Lan He chatted with Teacher Long for a while, but when Cheng Haidong still hadn’t returned, he started worrying that Haidong might have passed out in the bathroom. He suggested going to check on him and glanced at Song Futan, who was still stuck in conversation with Yu Hangjia.

Seeing Lan He get up and glance his way, Song Futan immediately sensed the signal and quickly said to Yu Hangjia, “I… need to go to the restroom.”

“Oh, oh.” Yu Hangjia was secretly thrilled. Xuang Guang was actually staying through the whole event this time—maybe there was hope for some future collaboration.

As soon as Song Futan exited, he heard Lan He say, “You’re going to the restroom too?”

Song Futan: “…”

“I’m looking for Cheng Haidong. He drank too much and hasn’t come back for a while. I’m worried he might be stuck in the toilet,” Lan He explained, clearly not reading too much into the situation. “Come with me just in case I can’t carry him.”

When they reached the restroom, someone had just finished washing their hands and was leaving. Lan He called out for Cheng Haidong, but no one responded.

There were a few rows of stalls. As Lan He reached the farthest one, he spotted a familiar shoulder bag lying on the floor, and the door to one of the stalls was slightly ajar.

Carefully pushing it open, Lan He saw Cheng Haidong slumped on the toilet, clutching his porcelain vase. Since they were indoors where it was warm, he had taken off his coat, revealing a very obvious, swollen belly, distended like he was six or seven months pregnant.

“…What happened to his stomach?” Lan He’s expression changed. When he checked Cheng Haidong’s pulse, he found that he had no breath left. His body was still warm, but his soul had already left.

“Was he taken as a substitute ghost? Or was this his fate to die from over-drinking?” Lan He wondered aloud. There weren’t any other colleagues around, and the sight of Cheng Haidong’s bloated stomach and the vase in his arms was far too odd. “Try to make him vomit,” he said to Song Futan. “I’ll go find his soul—maybe we can bring him back!”

Lan He dashed into another stall and locked the door before separating his soul from his body.

As soon as he exited the bathroom, he began searching everywhere for Cheng Haidong’s soul. This guy—was he unlucky or lucky? Bumping into a ghost so early in the new year, but at least he had run into Lan He, who was an Impermanence.

After searching for a while, Lan He spotted an old ghost in funeral clothes near the window, dragging Cheng Haidong’s soul along while muttering, “Eat yourself to death, eat yourself to death…”

Cheng Haidong, still drunk, was babbling as he clung to the window, uncooperative.

“Hey!” Lan He shouted. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The old ghost took one look at Lan He’s uniform and the dragging chains below him and bolted from the window with a swoosh.

Lan He floated forward to Cheng Haidong, who was still slumped against the windowsill. He tugged at him, but Cheng Haidong didn’t cooperate much.

“What on earth have you gotten yourself into?” Lan He sighed. Cheng Haidong’s luck was really something else. Lan He’s Soul Hook had long been dismantled, with the chains now tied around his hand as a red string and the hook hanging separately from his waist.

Hu 79 had guessed it right—how would he use the Soul Hook when needed?

He’d just have to make do. Lan He held the hook in the hand not wrapped in chains, hooked it onto the back of Cheng Haidong’s neck, and with a gentle tug, he easily lifted him up. Cheng Haidong didn’t resist at all, going limp in Lan He’s grip.

Lan He was pleased. Hmm, it wasn’t as flexible as before, but it could still work. Maybe in the future, he could consider using a paper hook as a substitute.

At that moment, Cheng Haidong felt a cold sensation down his spine, and his whole body went numb. His eyes snapped open, and when he saw Lan He, he blurted out, “L-Lord Lai, is that you…?”

Lan He glared at him, scaring him a little. “You still recognize me? You’re asking why it’s me? You’re dead!”

When Lan He had first started working as Impermanence, his very first job was to send Cheng Haidong’s soul back to his body. Now, as he continued this role, his first task was once again to return Cheng Haidong’s soul. What a strange connection.

“Ugh…” Cheng Haidong’s brain was still fuzzy, so he wasn’t even scared. He laughed foolishly and looked down the length of Lan He’s arm. From his angle, all he could see were the wide sleeves of the Impermanence robe, concealing what looked like no hands at all. The chains were hidden, and only the hook was visible, still attached to his neck.

“Whoa,” Cheng Haidong hiccupped. “You said there’s no navy in the underworld, but now you’ve turned pirate…”

Lan He: “???”