AGJN 056: Besides Zhang Xunchun, He Can Play Many Types

The female ghost was filled with great injustice. She wanted to give Lan He money, but how could she?

But she was powerless to refute, so she could only mutter to herself, “Why make things difficult for me? I didn’t want to treat my brother like this either. I heard he still doesn’t have an assistant; I actually want to give all my paper money to him…”

Lan He: “?”

Thanks, no need…

The female ghost secretly guessed that neither of them were right. Was it because his cousin thought she was harmful and disloyal, so he was suppressing her? It seemed she wouldn’t get any of Lan He’s paper figures—how painful.

Lan He: “Anyway, I can only give one to Dou Chunting. Besides, I won’t even give one to Dou Chunting anymore. Sister-in-law, if you ask me, you’re too fickle in love.”

Female ghost: “Boo hoo hoo, alright… I just committed the same mistake all women in the world would make.”

“…” Lan He held back the urge to mock her. Forget it, forget it. “Once you receive the paper figure, be a good ghost and try to get a good reincarnation. You don’t know how lucky you were tonight.”

Female ghost: “Ah? Oh…”

It’s said that after death, people reincarnate, but not everyone can continue to be human in their next life; some might become small animals.

The female ghost could understand this part, but when it came to luck, she was very confused.

As a homebody ghost, she spent every day huddled inside the computer, unaware of the famous man who had come. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been so calm earlier.

However, when she later interacted with other ghosts, she realized that not being deeply tortured today was because Lan He showed mercy for Dou Chunting’s sake.

When Song Futan returned with the laptop, Dou Chunting had just gotten up from the floor. The room was empty, and footsteps gradually approached. Then his cousin appeared. He was about to feel relieved when he noticed that his cousin was holding a familiar laptop.

Dou Chunting clutched his chest.

“Don’t faint just yet. It’s already taken care of,” Song Futan said, stopping him.

Dou Chunting revived again and stood up, leaning against the wall. “Did you perform the exorcism? Is she gone?”

Female ghost: “No.”

Dou Chunting continued clutching his chest: “…”

This is the essence of a fake online romance. You just wish your significant other would disappear sooner.

The female ghost didn’t seem to mind, even offering comfort: “Don’t worry, it’ll be soon.”

Dou Chunting: “…Thanks.”

Song Futan, seeing the female ghost comforting Dou Chunting, was also speechless.

Dou Chunting crawled onto the sofa and collapsed. “Cousin, before I fainted, I think I saw another ghost. What about that one? Is it dealt with too? I swear, it floated up from outside the window—it scared me to death.”

Since he lived downstairs, of course, it floated up. Song Futan said, “That one came to help me. I didn’t have time to explain before you fainted.”

Dou Chunting started crying. “But it was terrifying… Wait, cousin, when did you get ghost friends??”

His cousin had always avoided talking about the underworld and didn’t like bringing it up, let alone having ghost friends. No, forget ghosts—he barely had any close friends in the living world.

Though confused, Dou Chunting’s brain sometimes worked quickly. He immediately remembered how his cousin had proactively learned the Golden Wheel Mantra before. Although the two weren’t directly related, both were rare behaviors for Song Futan. His instincts sounded alarms, and he exclaimed, “Could that ghost be Dream Lady?!”

Song Futan: “…”

The female ghost didn’t understand the reference to Dream Lady but echoed, “Maybe it’s Sister-in-law? She didn’t seem ordinary to me.”

She even called her “sister-in-law” earlier.

Dou Chunting noticed Song Futan ignoring him. It seemed like calm indifference, but he didn’t think his imagination was too wild. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. His cousin was really something! No wonder the new play was about ghosts—it wasn’t Dream Lady, it was Xiaoqian!

Dou Chunting regretted fainting earlier and missing the face: “Wait, cousin, did that ghost leave? Can’t you introduce us?”

Female ghost: “He’s gone. It seemed like he had something to do—probably going to arrange my paper figure.”

Dou Chunting: “Oh, oh? Quite busy?”

Song Futan: “Since you’re chatting so well, why don’t you stay with your sister-in-law?”

Dou Chunting: “…”

The female ghost was overjoyed, but just as she was about to speak, Song Futan turned the computer to mute.

Female ghost: “…”

Both of them fell silent.

Song Futan thought to himself, Lan He really didn’t come back, nor did he return home—he had something else to take care of…

…

Wang Lili, feeling numb, asked, “Can you repeat that?”

In his dream, Xiao Lai was floating right in front of him with an innocent expression.

Lan He said, “It’s like this, I’m running out of paper again, and the demand has increased. I hope you can contribute a bit more to our partnership by doubling the amount of notebook paper for me.”

Wang Lili skeptically asked, “Are you sure you’re not secretly using my paper to support Old Bai?”

Lan He: “…”

Lan He: “…No! Believe me! This is a chance to bring glory to our Yin-Yang detectives!”

As expected of an officer, so sharp that he even guessed the lines. But Lan He truly hadn’t given the paper to Old Bai.

Wang Lili, starting to feel a bit of excitement himself, reluctantly said, “While it’s my honor, but…”

He was about to be beaten to death by the logistics supervisor! He felt like the supervisor already suspected him of reselling notebooks.

Lan He persuaded, “Think about our cases of the Golden Gate Post and the Golden Gate Threshold, which we solved together.”

Indeed, because of those cases, Wang Lili had become a rising star in the Beijing police force. He almost cried as he said, “Alright, I’ll do my best. By the way, how’s work going? Have you found that Golden Rat?”

His partner had been busy with this for a while, and Wang Lili didn’t know if it had been resolved.

“The Golden Rat? We found it, but it’s been destroyed, sigh.” Lan He was also frustrated when he brought this up. But now that Wang Lili had asked, he suddenly remembered. “Right, it’s no use to us anymore, but maybe you can close the case with it?”

Wang Lili: “!!”

Wang Lili was shocked. “You really found it again? The owner didn’t seem too concerned about it anymore. What do you mean destroyed? That’s a cultural relic!”

Of course, they didn’t care anymore, because it was useless now.

“It was a maniac.” Lan He rummaged through his sleeve for a moment and handed the now badly corroded Golden Rat to Wang Lili. “Here, take it. Don’t forget to get the paper.”

Wang Lili was dumbfounded…

The next morning, Wang Lili turned in the Golden Rat. Even though it no longer resembled its original form, a simple test would confirm it was the genuine article. Since Wang Lili was the one handing it over, everyone instinctively believed him.

His superior was flabbergasted. “You really pulled this off?! That criminal gang must have targeted you and returned it, right? Did you help them?”

This set of artifacts had only the Golden Rat left. Even though the owner didn’t seem to care anymore, Wang Lili’s success in recovering it twice had made both the department and the media hopeful for a third miracle.

Unexpectedly, Wang Lili truly delivered. But the superior’s theory wasn’t about the supernatural—it was more of a detective legend.

Wang Lili awkwardly said, “I don’t know either…”

Afterward, Wang Lili went to collect more notebooks.

Sure enough, the logistics supervisor was exasperated. “You’re back again, and now you want double? You paper-eating monster!!”

She couldn’t hold back and blurted out the nickname they’d secretly given him.

Wang Lili: “…”

The mysterious superior appeared at the door, leaning on the frame. “Just give Wang Lili the notebooks already. He consumes paper but spits out artifacts!”

The supervisor, speechless, complied.

So by the time Wang Lili carried the stack of notebooks back, his new nickname, the “Paper-Eating Beast,” had spread throughout the department.

…

Meanwhile, Lan He, having collected the paper, returned and used bamboo poles, hemp rope, silk threads, bamboo nails, and wooden sticks to make a paper figure for Dou Chunting. First, he set up the frame, then added other parts. The clothing was later tailored and attached, not drawn as part of the figure.

Different parts of the paper figure used various types of paper—some hard, some soft. These details made the figure more three-dimensional and lifelike.

The inside of the paper figure was hollow. A needle and a silver coin formed its heart, connected with a red thread. A piece of paper inscribed with Dou Chunting’s birth date and time or his own hair was also placed inside. With that, the stand-in was complete.

Lan He delivered the figure to Song Futan, and while Dou Chunting was in the other room, he placed the paper figure in a corner.

When Dou Chunting came out, he glimpsed the pale-faced paper figure in the corner and was so scared he almost choked. “Oh my—!!”

Song Futan calmly said, “The stand-in is done.”

The notebook had already been taken to the temple for prayers. Now, all that was left was to burn the stand-in.

“Alright… I was scared to death,” Dou Chunting said, patting his chest. This was too much for him—he had already been living in fear recently, even avoiding his phone for days. The psychological trauma left by that “Bluetooth connected” incident was so severe that he probably wouldn’t buy a new computer for a long time.

Dou Chunting couldn’t help but step forward to take a closer look at the paper figure. He had never seen such a finely crafted one before. The facial features were drawn with great detail, and it bore a slight resemblance to him. Even the folds in the clothing looked incredibly realistic, and the skeleton was structured so well that it stood firmly on the ground. “This… it’s just too lifelike… it’s practically a work of art, although it’s really terrifying.”

Lan He said, “Yeah, it even startled me when I first walked in.”

Song Futan: “…”

“Right? Right?” Dou Chunting found someone who shared his feelings. “So should I burn it now? I’ve looked it up online over the past couple of days, and it says you need to burn it at a crossroads with your uncle or cousin.”

“No need. ‘Uncle’ and ‘cousin’ are just homophones for ‘save’ and ‘redeem.’ You’re fine now, just burning it to settle the debt,” Song Futan explained. “You don’t have to go to a crossroads; you can just draw a cross in a spot downstairs.”

Lan He, with an indifferent look, silently enjoyed watching them practice their traditional customs.

“Oh, oh,” Dou Chunting said as he inspected it again. “Isn’t there something missing? A formal letter, right? Aren’t we supposed to write a document to inform the local underworld official about where to send it?”

Song Futan: “…No need. Just remember, don’t say anything while you burn it.”

The underworld official was standing right next to you, and the whole city probably recognized Lan He’s craftsmanship by now…

Dou Chunting obediently complied and took the paper figure to burn.

As the exquisitely made paper figure was engulfed by flames, Dou Chunting felt an unexpected twinge of regret. He almost blurted out, “What a waste,” but fortunately, he remembered Song Futan’s instruction not to speak, so he kept his mouth shut.

Song Futan glanced at Dou Chunting, knowing his personality well. It wasn’t that no words at all could be spoken during the burning, just certain things, like expressions of regret. Saying that would defeat the purpose of the ritual, so it was better to tell Dou Chunting not to say anything at all.

After burning the stand-in, Dou Chunting felt completely at ease. The heavy burden that had been weighing on his heart was lifted, and he was filled with a sense of relief from having fulfilled his vow.

“For the next hundred days, don’t use your real name,” Song Futan said.

“Oh, oh, I know. I need to use a nickname, right? So everyone will call me by a different name.” Dou Chunting had learned about this. “By the way, brother, can you give me a few more of those talismans?”

That was no problem. Lan He had recently prepared a new batch of his “Lan He Happy Paper” as raw material, so Song Futan agreed. “Sure.”

Dou Chunting had been scared senseless recently, so having talismans for protection would bring him some peace of mind. “Besides the ‘Clean and Pure’ one from last time, are there any others?”

Song Futan casually said, “Just choose from Buddhist scriptures, but stick to two, four, or eight characters.”

“They all have specific functions, right?” Dou Chunting rubbed his hands together. “I’ll take ‘Wisdom,’ and how about ‘Beauty’… there’s got to be one for that, right?”

Song Futan: “…”

Dou Chunting was completely daydreaming. Song Futan handed him a talisman that read “Form is Emptiness.”

.

.

Since Lan He had promised Hu 79, he took her along in a matchbox the next time he went to record a show.

Song Futan, meanwhile, chose to accompany Lan He, wearing a mask and sunglasses. He was rarely in the public eye, and with this disguise, almost no one would recognize him.

Lan He said, “You really don’t want to sit at a café near the studio while I record?”

Song Futan replied, “Didn’t sister-in-law say you don’t have an assistant right now? I’ll be your assistant and carry your clothes.”

Lan He laughed. “Then I’ll be troubling Mr. Xuang Guang.”

Hu 79, in a sarcastic tone, said, “It’s no trouble at all; it’s not like unclogging drains.” As if carrying clothes was a hassle.

Lan He: “…Are you going to leave or not?”

Hu 79 finally fell silent. She understood the reasoning; she just couldn’t hold back.

This time, Lan He was recording the acting variety show *Legend*, as discussed earlier with his agent. He was a guest performer for a single episode, acting alongside the resident cast.

The company had accepted *Legend*’s invitation because it was a well-produced show with good buzz. The resident actors were either famous or had strong reputations.

When Lan He arrived at the studio, the atmosphere was tense. He noticed two actors in the middle of rehearsing who seemed to be at odds. One of them coldly said, “How am I supposed to act like this? I can’t follow your idea.”

The other actor, looking equally unhappy, clutched the script and replied, “I think you should be more objective.”

The people around them didn’t look pleased either, seemingly worried that a fight might break out.

Lan He recognized both actors. One was Xiao Yuqian, who rose to fame through idol dramas and had recently gained recognition for his improved acting in more serious roles. The other was Wang Lu, a former child star known for his acting skills—it was him who was pushing back.

They were really taking the rehearsal seriously, though Lan He couldn’t tell if there was an element of performance for the show. According to the schedule, he was supposed to act alongside both of them later as a supporting character.

A staff member guiding Lan He whispered, “Lan He, let’s go to the waiting room for a bit. We’ll call you later.”

“Okay, you guys seem pretty stressed about the recording.” Lan He understood that the recording schedule was tight, which might be one of the reasons for the tense atmosphere among the actors.

The staff member gave him a strange look, then seemed to understand, “Hehe…”

What was with the laugh?

Lan He asked curiously, “What’s up? Isn’t that the case?”

Because Lan He was easy to approach and the staff had a bit of gossip, they whispered, “Maybe… Hehe, by the way, aren’t you acquainted with Mr. Xuang Guang?”

Lan He resisted the urge to look back at the real Xuang Guang, who was acting as his temporary assistant today. He wasn’t sure why Xuang Guang was suddenly brought up, likely out of curiosity, so he quickly responded, “I’m neither particularly close nor distant with Mr. Xuang Guang. We’ve just recorded a show together.”

Staff member: “…Pfft.”

How oddly cute.

This was the staff’s first time meeting Lan He in person, and from the way he spoke, it seemed like he was a bit exasperated by what the media had written about him. It appeared that the relationship between Lan He and Xuang Guang might not be as bad as rumored.

However, it probably wasn’t great either. Otherwise, how could he not know why there was tension between Wang Lu and Xiao Yuqian?

—Not long ago, there were rumors about what age range the lead role in Song Qiyun’s project might be. Many of the young male actors in the show’s crew were interested. After all, those who could appear on this program were all popular and skilled, with the capability to compete for the role.

There had already been some competition brewing, and with the tension mounting, it was no surprise that Wang Lu and Xiao Yuqian’s rivalry became evident. They likely both had their eyes on the same role and couldn’t afford to lose to each other in this kind of program.

Even the media joked that the show *Legend* had gathered most of the hot candidates for Song Qiyun’s new drama. With such a direct competitive display, why didn’t Director Song just pick the lead based on the show’s outcome? They wanted more drama, and the show’s crew wasn’t opposed to it either, since it helped their ratings.

In reality, Song Qiyun’s project was still in the preparation stage, far from the casting phase, let alone making any public announcements. This led to many actors thinking they still had a shot and trying to make connections, only to find out that the lead had been decided before the casting had even begun.

Lan He, of course, knew many people were eager to be part of Song Qiyun’s film; that was a given. But he had been so busy with both his primary job and his side gigs, not to mention his relationship, that he hadn’t kept track of exactly who was involved or how far things had progressed.

Because he was about to act with both Wang Lu and Xiao Yuqian later, Lan He was worried he might mishandle the situation, so he sent a message to his manager, asking if the two had had any recent conflicts and if there was anything he needed to be careful about.

Manager: 【?? You don’t know? I thought you did? I’m speechless. I should’ve accompanied you to the recording.】

Lan He: 【What’s going on? No need for you to come, I’ll just quietly play the part of a tool. They both look pretty upset…】

Manager: 【It’s because they both want the lead role in Director Song’s new movie. Once it’s officially announced, they’ll be mad at you together.】

Lan He: 【………………】

Manager: 【So, make sure you play your role well, or if you mess up the scenes, what will the audience think of you in the future?】

Lan He: 【…………】

Lan He was at a loss for words. His manager had indeed reminded him earlier to perform well, but he had assumed it was because the platform was a rare opportunity, not because of this additional layer.

It was time for Lan He to go to the recording. He left his things with Song Futan for safekeeping, including Hu 79 and Bai Wu.

Hu 79 sneakily crawled out: “Good luck! Win first place—”

She was practically yelling.

Song Futan coldly replied, “He’s just a guest performer, not competing for the rankings.”

Hu 79 was stunned and screamed, “I don’t care, I don’t care, he still has to steal the spotlight!”

Song Futan: “…”

This fox was beyond saving.

…

Lan He stood on stage. He was famous for his role as Zhang Xunchun in *Chase*, and the show’s producers were very straightforward in leveraging that fame, asking him to perform Zhang Xunchun again. Although the content was different, even the name and identity stayed the same…

Lan He was already well-versed in this role. He acted alongside both Wang Lu and Xiao Yuqian. The audience witnessed firsthand how Lan He, normally polite and courteous, transformed into a menacing wolf. Once he got into character, his gloomy and vicious demeanor didn’t require any special effects to shock the audience into visibly changing their expressions.

Xiao Yuqian acted alongside Lan He first, and even face-to-face, he was taken aback by “Zhang Xunchun.” Coupled with the competitive tension between him and Wang Lu, he performed exceptionally well. It was a shame, really. If Lan He weren’t on bad terms with Xuang Guang, Xiao Yuqian would have loved to work with him in Director Song’s new film. It was exhilarating, and he hoped there would be another opportunity elsewhere.

One of the program’s mentors, a veteran director, smiled and said, “I think everyone is familiar with this style. I’ve watched *Chase*, and Zhang Xunchun is a very compelling character. Since you’re here, Lan He, is there anything different you could bring to your performance with Wang Lu later? After all, there are many types of villains. Could you perhaps show us a different kind of feel? Something not like Zhang Xunchun…”

This was within the script’s flexibility, offering the guest a chance to showcase their skills. However, it also demanded a high level of acting ability. After all, everyone had the same competitive theme and a similar outline, and although the details varied, there was still considerable overlap.

Currently, Lan He was best known for his portrayal of Zhang Xunchun. Although his reversal in character was impressive, the director’s request was intriguing.

The two contrasting sides of Zhang Xunchun’s personality actually made it easier to highlight Lan He’s acting skills. But could he portray a different type of villain with the same basic storyline?

The audience was eager to see if he would dare to take on the challenge.

Hu 79 shouted from the audience, loud enough for only Lan He and Song Futan to hear, “Go for it!!!”

Lan He didn’t disappoint the audience. In a playful tone, he said, “Alright, what kind do you want to see? The jealous, crazy villain who can’t stand losing? The obsessive villain who goes mad when he can’t get what he wants? Or maybe the creepy yet somewhat comedic villain who’s always down on his luck… I’m up for any of them.”

Hu 79: “………………???”

---

Author’s Note:

Hu 79, Hu Si, and Melonhead: Is he playing us???

Bai Wu: I’m not even important enough to be played…