With that look in his eyes—A pirate, just because he’s holding a hook? How much did he drink? Lan He twitched the corner of his mouth and said, “Stop talking nonsense. You’re the pirate; I’m regular army.”
Cheng Haidong mumbled, “Regular navy… Can you issue invoices…?”
Lan He: “??”
Alright, now he’s changed to navy. This has gone far off track.
Seeing that Cheng Haidong was completely drunk, Lan He peeked outside and noticed that the old ghost in a funeral robe hadn’t gone far. He was lurking around the corner, peeking, “Come here for a moment, I’ve got a question for you.”
The old ghost bowed from a distance, “Great master, let’s just say, I’m scared.”
Many ghosts fear the underworld emissaries. Lan He simply asked, “I just want to know, why are you pulling him? You don’t look like an evil ghost.”
The old ghost leaned against the wall, looking wronged, “He dug up my burial items, disturbed my peace. Who else would I go after if not him?”
“You mean that ‘treasure vase’?” Lan He asked, and seeing him nod frantically, he was momentarily puzzled. “What are you talking about? We’ve already investigated this thoroughly in the underworld. That thing was given to him as a debt repayment by someone else. He just got it today; it’s not something he dug up.”
Cheng Haidong was too drunk to be conscious, hanging by a hook, but this was something he had talked about with Lan He during dinner, so it shouldn’t be wrong.
The old ghost rubbed his eyes, “Really? No way. I’ve been following him for over three months since he stole it… Oh!” He suddenly realized, “I knew something was off, the yang energy was too strong before, I couldn’t do anything, but suddenly… now I can!”
Lan He: “…”
Lan He: “So, you’ve been following the treasure vase without actually looking at the person?”
He suspected that the vase had changed hands more than once. This was something Cheng Haidong’s friend had given him, and although that friend liked antiques, he probably wasn’t the type to rob graves. Only when it got to Cheng Haidong, whose yang energy was weaker, did he become unlucky.
The old ghost sheepishly replied, “I didn’t pay much attention. They were all men anyway…”
“I’ll take him back to revive him. If you have grievances, go register at the Chenghuang Temple. As for the vase, he’ll bury it for you,” Lan He instructed.
“Hey, sir, the big court at the Four Chenghuang Temples has been closed for ages. There are only a few petty officials; no one’s there to help me,” the old ghost replied. He wasn’t just any ghost, but one that was also out of touch with current events. If he hadn’t been following the grave robbers, he probably wouldn’t have left the mountains. His memory was still stuck in the past when the Chenghuang Temples were damaged.
Lan He chuckled, “Just head to the capital Chenghuang Temple. A new master took office a couple of years ago.”
The old ghost nodded in sudden understanding.
Lan He dragged Cheng Haidong back. Outside the bathroom, a few people had gathered, including some girls peeking in while covering their noses.
They weren’t watching someone use the bathroom but were there for the spectacle.
Song Futan had earlier dragged Cheng Haidong’s body out of the stall to induce vomiting. A man who entered the bathroom had helped call the hotel staff, who assisted in making Cheng Haidong vomit, causing quite a commotion.
They propped Cheng Haidong up, and at Song Futan’s request, the staff fetched chopsticks to stimulate his gag reflex, causing him to vomit a heap of rotten, unrecognizable black substances into the trash can, emitting a strong stench.
The staff immediately dropped the chopsticks and backed away several steps, nearly vomiting themselves. The stench was unbearable!
No one could tell what that stuff was; it was so massive that passersby, as well as women in the neighboring restroom, all covered their noses and turned pale, with the more curious ones gathering at the door to watch.
Inside, the staff could be heard wondering, “Why isn’t he waking up? It seems serious. Maybe we should stop and just wait for the ambulance… ugh…”
Those who had helped couldn’t bear it and rushed to the window for fresh air.
The crowd outside couldn’t help but ask, “What’s going on in there? Did the toilet explode?”
It wasn’t meant maliciously; it was just that the smell was overwhelming.
The man shook his head, “Someone puked… it’s all black, rotten stuff… ugh…”
Recalling it made him gag again.
“…” Lan He quickly used his soul-reviving fan to restore Cheng Haidong’s soul and then returned to his own body.
Lan He stepped out of the stall, covering his nose, “What’s that awful smell? Old Cheng? Old Cheng, are you okay?”
Song Futan said, “Seems like he ate something bad. We’re trying to make him throw it up.”
The two worked together seamlessly, and the staff, recognizing Lan He, quickly said, “Mr. Lan, is this your colleague too? The ‘Chase’ crew is having a celebration here today, right?”
“Yeah… hey, he’s awake!” Lan He pointed at Cheng Haidong.
Cheng Haidong had indeed woken up, and the foul stench had sobered him up significantly. His stomach churned again, and he began vomiting once more. This time, however, it was no longer the black, rotting substance; it was just the fresh food he had eaten earlier, and soon his bloated belly flattened back down.
“Oh… oh man! That stinks!” Cheng Haidong staggered out.
The crowd outside quickly made way, looking at him curiously.
The cleaning staff, mustering courage, rushed in to start cleaning.
The waiter had informed his colleagues, and soon the film crew got word. Several members rushed over, only to be hit by the stench, making them stagger. “What the heck? Did Old Cheng have diarrhea?”
“No, he just threw up from overeating,” Lan He explained. “I don’t know what happened. When I came out, he was already vomiting like crazy.”
Cheng Haidong, having finished vomiting, was feeling much better and now more sober. Struggling to stand up straight, he said, “I… how did I end up back here… I thought I was going to die…”
After all, even the grim reaper had shown up. He couldn’t recall the details, but he did remember something about pirates and being dragged away… Wait, how did the pirate come into the picture?
“Die? Die my foot! You just ate garbage and threw up like this,” the chief cinematographer cursed. “I’ll call an ambulance for you.”
“I think I’m fine, just… ugh, the smell.” Cheng Haidong, still disoriented, rubbed his stomach. “Where’s my treasure vase?”
Lan He had already picked it up earlier and handed it to him.
Cheng Haidong, feeling awful, explained, “I didn’t eat garbage! I just remember there was food inside. I ate dumplings, apples, but I felt so full, so full… and then I think I died, and then threw up.”
His words were jumbled, but Yu Hangjia, who had been staring at the vase in his hand, stepped forward and grabbed it for a closer look. “Where did you get this treasure vase?!”
Cheng Haidong, slurring, replied, “A friend gave it to me, antique treasure vase. Mr. Yu, do you… do you know how to evaluate it?”
He still remembered that Yu Hangjia collected antiques.
Yu Hangjia felt a shiver run down his spine and handed the vase back to him. “Xiao Cheng, you’re not from the capital, are you?”
Cheng Haidong: “N-No, I’m from Hunan Province.”
Yu Hangjia pointed at the vase, his face turning strange. “This thing, while not that ancient, is still an old item… Mainly, here in the capital, this is called a treasure vase, commonly referred to as a ‘choking food jar.'”
A Southerner exclaimed, “A poop-eating jar?”
The crowd began to chatter again. No wonder it smelled so bad…
Yu Hangjia: “…”
Yu Hangjia: “No! It’s ‘choke,’ as in choking, not poop! In some places, it’s also called a ‘food-offering jar’ or ‘sacrifice food jar.’ Here, the custom is that seven days after someone dies, the descendants place good food into this treasure vase. In the end, they place seven small dumplings, one apple, and a small cake, cover it with red cloth, tie it with red string, and bury it with the deceased. The old saying, ‘Your choking food jar is full,’ means you’re about to die from eating. So this jar is for the dead to use for meals. Inside… it’s all food for the dead.”
He turned to Cheng Haidong and asked, “Did you really… eat the dumplings and apple?”
The dumplings and apple are placed on top, so they’d be eaten first.
Suddenly, the lively discussion about “poop jars” ceased. A dead silence filled the air, and people instinctively backed away from Cheng Haidong.
Even Lan He felt a bit numb. He had only heard the old ghost say that this was his burial item, not realizing it was his food jar. So what exactly had Cheng Haidong eaten?
Cheng Haidong had been half-sober from the stench, but now he was fully awake, shuddering. “I-I did eat them…”
His ability to think had returned, and he began to recall more. He spoke in fear, “I was already full, but when I saw food inside, I couldn’t stop myself. I kept eating, and eating! And eating!!!”
Everyone was covered in goosebumps. Cheng Haidong’s description was terrifying, especially when they thought about the rotting, foul-smelling mass he had vomited up. This was far worse than eating garbage.
A few who had seen Cheng Haidong’s bloated belly earlier were even more disturbed, thinking this was something supernatural.
Yet, the jar now looked clean and empty—no food inside. The more they thought about it, the scarier it seemed. However, some began to question whether he had just eaten rotten garbage, considering how drunk he had been earlier.
Lan He, staying in character, made a timely comment, “Maybe he drank too much and didn’t know what he was doing.”
Someone weakly suggested, “Well, all the stuff he vomited is in the trash bag. Should we check if there are any small dumplings in there?”
Everyone had an indescribable expression on their face—who would dare to go through that stuff? And even if there were dumplings, it wouldn’t prove anything. It’s normal for a restaurant to have dumplings, especially during the New Year.
“I heard from my grandfather that there’s a traditional remedy. Food from these ‘choking jars’—after being buried for many years—can be used to treat choking and indigestion,” Yu Hangjia said, recalling the story despite feeling nauseous earlier. However, now that he remembered he had a family deity for protection, he felt more confident and continued, “Either way, this treasure vase is unlucky. You’d better deal with it quickly. The old antique dealers didn’t like doing this kind of business because they were afraid of being beaten up in the underworld after death. They used to sell them to foreigners who didn’t understand.”
Foreigners didn’t care about such things. In fact, they found these small porcelain vases to be quite interesting as collectibles.
Cheng Haidong rubbed his arms, too scared to discard the vase, but he gathered his courage and put it back in his bag. “Thanks, Mr. Yu, I understand now.”
He was furious, though. This vase was given to him by a friend to repay a debt, and he didn’t know any better as an outsider. But that friend must have known what it was, right? Just calling it a ‘treasure vase’ and not mentioning it was a ‘choking jar’? What was the meaning behind that? If there was no taboo, why hide the truth?
And now, thinking back to his dazed state, he vaguely remembered someone dragging him away, and then he encountered Lord Lai, who must have said something to bring him back. That was a life-and-death situation!
Liu Chunyang slapped Cheng Haidong on the back, “You, your fate is way too weak! How do you keep running into this kind of spooky stuff? Luckily, you were in the hotel where people could help induce vomiting.”
——Not everyone had the same constitution as Lan He or Song Futan. For normal people, encountering ghosts was about as frequent as visiting Hailan X—twice a year at most. Anything more than that was excessive.
“Isn’t that the truth?” Cheng Haidong also sighed internally. Lucky to be the chosen one, or I’d have lost my life.
Yu Hangjia and the others suggested Cheng Haidong go to the hospital for a checkup. Lan He helped the still-weak Cheng Haidong back to the banquet hall to get his coat. “Are you planning to return the vase?”
“Don’t think I’m being too superstitious… I was thinking about making that friend pay me back,” Cheng Haidong said listlessly. “But after thinking it over, maybe I should just let it go. I’ll find a place to bury the vase with some food in it and return it to its rightful owner.”
Lan He nodded, “You do what feels right. If it gives you peace of mind, that’s good.”
…
After Cheng Haidong’s incident, the people who had witnessed it didn’t feel much like eating or drinking anymore. However, they didn’t want to leave right away, so they just sipped tea instead.
Teacher Long hadn’t gone to the bathroom earlier but saw Cheng Haidong returning, looking weak, as he grabbed his coat and mentioned going to the hospital. She was quite concerned.
“It’s fine, just… threw up earlier. Thankfully, kind people were around, along with Master Xuangguang and Lan He, to help induce vomiting,” Cheng Haidong said, having been through a few incidents before and not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “Don’t worry, my boss is coming with me to the hospital.”
After Cheng Haidong left, the remaining group sipped tea and couldn’t help discussing whether Cheng Haidong had been drunk or had encountered a ghost—or both. Either way, even if it was just alcohol, what kind of garbage could have smelled that bad?
After the banquet ended, Lan He linked arms with Teacher Long as they left. She quietly asked, “Did Xiao Cheng eat food meant for the dead in the bathroom?”
Lan He’s heart skipped a beat. “Seems like it. That vase he had was a burial item.”
“And did you see the deceased?” Teacher Long asked. “Or, did you save Xiao Cheng?”
She had only overheard bits and pieces, but her intuition told her that this was connected to her son.
Lan He remained silent for a moment before saying, “…Yes.”
Teacher Long sighed deeply, “Ah.”
Lan He didn’t know what to say.
“I’m not trying to stop you from saving people. He’s your friend, after all,” Teacher Long continued. “But… you’ve heard your grandfather talk about these things so much. If you can avoid meddling in the underworld, it’s best to stay away. Let’s just focus on your career and improving your acting.”
The term *meddling in the underworld* referred to making a living off dealings with the dead, which was similar to profiting from the afterlife. This line of work was filled with too many taboos and dangers. One mistake could cost a person their life.
It was a parent’s heartache. Lan He glanced at Song Futan not far away, then thought of First Lady Hu and Old Bai. He turned to his mother and said, “Mom, I have things I must do, but I promise… I’ll listen to you from now on.”
Teacher Long, hearing this, knew that this wasn’t the first time her son had dealt with these matters—he had likely been involved for some time.
But she knew her son. When he said he had no choice, she fell silent for a long time before painfully saying, “You promised the family. If you truly have no choice, I believe you have your reasons. Just… you must be careful. I’m heading back tomorrow. You’ll be alone in the capital…”
Lan He was so touched, he nearly cried. Ah, his mom still cared about his well-being.
Teacher Long added, “And… make sure you start looking for a partner, preferably someone who can handle your situation—someone with guts.”
Lan He: “…”
Lan He was speechless, “O-Okay.”
Rest assured, they’ll definitely have enough guts…
.
Teacher Long stayed for a few days before flying back to Hunan Province. Once she left, Yi Ping finally breathed a sigh of relief. Teacher Long was relentless; if Lan He hadn’t stopped her, insisting his injury hadn’t fully healed, she would’ve scrubbed him down from head to toe with a brush.
With Teacher Long gone, Lan He felt energized again, ready to tackle the tasks at hand. He asked Bai Wu to write a letter to send to Melonhead Immortal, planning to distribute the ashes from the Jinding Furnace.
At the moment, he was also getting ready to assemble the villa he was building for Hu 79. Lan He opened the package and, with Song Futan, began assembling it with tools.
Just as they were almost done, the phone rang. Song Futan stepped aside to take the call. At the same time, the doorbell rang. Since Song Futan was already nearby, he checked the peephole, but no one was there.
Another ghostly encounter?
Song Futan casually opened the door.
Outside, Melonhead Immortal was half-squatting on the ground, “Master—”
Song Futan: “…”
Melonhead Immortal looked up and saw Song Futan, freezing in surprise. He hadn’t expected him to be the one to open the door. Song Futan, after opening the door, walked away to continue his call.
“Oh, Melonhead, you’re here! Come in,” Lan He called out. “Might as well call Ying Shao over, too. He lives just across the hall.” Still busy, Lan He added to Hu 79, “Hu 79, could you entertain our guests for a moment? I’ll be done soon.”
Ying Shao, poor guy, lived directly across from a notorious rogue. Melonhead Immortal, feeling a bit sorry for him, turned and knocked on the door next door, bringing Ying Shao over. The two entered together.
Hu 79, wrapped up like a mummy, was lounging on the couch, playing with Lan He’s phone, still engrossed in *Fight the Landlord*. She raised a paw, waving lazily at them, “Sit—”
Melonhead Immortal, feeling awkward, took off his melon-shaped hat and gave a slight bow. The memory of Hu 79’s formidable performance that night was still fresh in his mind…
“Wait a moment. Master is still assembling the deluxe *God of Wealth* mansion for this immortal goddess,” Hu 79 said proudly, waving her bandaged paw. “Make the guests a cappuccino!”
Suddenly, two cups on the coffee table started steaming. Melonhead Immortal was thrilled and eagerly picked one up to take a sip.
Ying Shao also took a sip, but then puzzledly said, “Wasn’t it supposed to be coffee? This is just hot water.”
Hu 79 was furious, “Do you think this is your house? And you expect coffee?!”
Ying Shao: “…”
What the heck, you were the one who mentioned coffee…!
Lan He: “…”
He walked over, snatching the phone from Hu 79’s paw. “She’s been playing too many games. But honestly, we don’t have coffee. How about some orange juice?”
Ying Shao, feeling awkward, quickly said, “No, no, it’s fine.”
“No need to be shy, if you want it, just say so.” Lan He went to pour some orange juice for Ying Shao.
Ying Shao still felt uneasy. He often had to field questions from curious peers about his famous neighbor and occasionally even from relatives. It was exhausting maintaining this persona in front of his fellow disciples, to the point where he was nearly losing his mind.
Melonhead Immortal whispered to Hu 79, “Is it true that both masters live here together?” That day, Hu Si had insinuated something about the two of them. Now, with Song Futan opening the door, Melonhead couldn’t help but overthink things.
Ying Shao, recalling his previous jokes, felt like he knew too much. If the entertainment reporters caught wind of this, they’d be shocked. Still, he couldn’t help sharing his ‘divine’ prediction: “I’ve always thought the ‘Fulan CP’…”
Lan He came back just then, and Ying Shao quickly shut his mouth. However, Lan He was already giving him an odd look, probably having overheard. Ying Shao broke into a cold sweat. “I-I was just… um…”
Lan He frowned, “What *Fulan*? You better not make fun of our Hunan accent. The confusion between ‘L’ and ‘N’ is just prejudice. I don’t have any trouble enunciating my lines!”
Ying Shao: “…Yes, yes, of course.”
Lan He pulled out the jar First Lady Hu had given him and placed it on the table. “I’ll divide it evenly by headcount, no objections, right?”
He noticed Melonhead Immortal staring blankly at him. “…Divide by headcount.”
Melonhead Immortal quickly responded, “Oh, yes!”
Lan He divided the ashes evenly. Ying Shao, Melonhead Immortal and his wife, Bai Wu, Hu 79, Song Futan, and himself each received a portion, which he placed into small containers.
Melonhead Immortal carefully tucked his portion into his clothes, treasuring it like gold.
Bai Wu held onto the jar, thinking excitedly that their Bai Sect had finally made it. This was the incense ash from the Old Lady herself!
Hu 79, holding the bottle, limped toward her newly assembled villa, ready to stash it inside. Stroking the freshly built structure, she couldn’t hide her joy. Who else had ever lived in such a grand *God of Wealth* mansion? A luxurious three-story villa, each floor interconnected. The ground floor housed the incense burner, the middle was her den, and the top was a terrace and game area—much taller and more splendid than any mourning hall!
Song Futan had finished his call and returned, saying, “We’re about to head out to record the final episode of *Beijing Seasonal Records* at Miaogan Mountain. It’ll probably take two or three days. Hu 79, would you like to come along?”
Hu 79 shrank back from her villa, suddenly less enthusiastic: “N-No, I think I’ll pass.” She hugged the villa lovingly, saying, “I’ll just stay here with my fox villa. Nowhere else for me.”
This *God of Wealth* mansion was indeed impressive. Melonhead Immortal’s eyes shone with envy, and even Bai Wu peeked his head out, gazing up in awe at Hu 79, now standing tall and imposing…
Song Futan had already started packing up the boxes.
Seeing the label, Melonhead Immortal couldn’t help but read it aloud: “Solid wood construction, luxury cat villa…”
Hu 79: “………………”
—
Thread topic: Song Qiyun is starting a new drama!!
Content: According to the latest news, it’s already in the works. The script is finished, and it’s said to be a fantasy genre.
1L: I heard about this ages ago! An industry friend said Song Qiyun has been super diligent lately, and apparently, it’s a big-budget production.
2L: Wow, exciting! Casting’s probably going to be a bloodbath again.
3L: _(:з)∠)_ It’s Zhang Xunchun season lately. Can we hope for Lan He to play the villain in Song Qiyun’s new drama? I’d love to see him all fierce again!
4L: Isn’t Wang Mao’s *Geometry of a Dream* airing soon? I think he plays a villain there too. I can’t wait! I love the dark, brutal type _(:з)∠)_
5L: So excited! I saw Wang Mao promoting it and saying Xunchun plays a major villain in *Geometry of Dreams*. If you didn’t get enough of him in *Chase*, just wait for the new drama to drop. Wang really knows how to time things perfectly.
6L: Wang Mao and Liu Chunyang are good buddies, right? I wouldn’t be surprised if they picked villains together—what great chemistry!
7L: I’ll throw in a prayer too. Our guy (cue Li Kui face) might as well become a full-time villain! I’m dying to know what the villain in Song Qiyun’s new film will be like. And didn’t Lan He and Master Xuangguang just finish recording *Beijing Seasonal Records*? Maybe… let me dream a little.
8L: Yeah, people said they’re pretty close. Who knows, right?
9L: Don’t jinx it, though. Even though Lan He’s a great actor, landing the second male lead in Song Qiyun’s drama might be a bit of a stretch.
10L: As a Lan He fan myself, I’d love to see him play the fierce villain again, but yeah, Song Qiyun’s projects aren’t easy to get into. *sob* I just hope *Chase*’s popularity helps him land more roles… He’s still a former small actor from a small agency, and he doesn’t even have an assistant yet.
11L: *Chase* really blew up, and now everyone’s hoping Lan He will star in Song Qiyun’s new drama. But didn’t Lan He and Xuangguang have beef? Even Beijing TV reported it. There wasn’t a single interaction between them during *Beijing Seasonal Records*—not even a polite word.
12L: Those rumors were debunked ages ago! LSS mentioned it, and when the media asked for confirmation, Lan He said they didn’t have any conflict and actually got along well!
13L: LOL, you really bought that? That was clearly shade. When have you ever seen Xuangguang get along *well* with anyone? *Sarcastic hand gesture*.jpg
14L: So, every fandom can hope, but only us Lan He stans are left to cry ourselves to sleep.
15L: …Falling into deep thought.
Author’s Note:
Song Futan: I just want to cry myself to sleep, at Xiao Lai’s place _(:з)∠)_.