“No worries, the boss might have left early for something.” Lan He, having scared even the ghosts away, casually handed White a melon. “Want some melon?”
White looked at Lan He with confusion. “But he seemed to be afraid of you.”
Lan He replied, “How could that be? I just asked if the melon was ripe.”
White was uncertain, especially since Lan He tossed some money onto the stall shortly after. “See, here in our place, the customs are simple. Everyone takes a melon and pays voluntarily. The boss leaves with no concerns.”
Even Yan San couldn’t hold back, giving a low cough.
They continued moving forward, soon finishing their journey along the Yellow Springs Road and arriving at the capital. At the city gates, White saw two clerks dressed in green uniforms. As they approached the gate, one of the clerks immediately turned his back and hid upon seeing Lan He.
Not only that, but the other ghosts also seemed to be enjoying the spectacle, whispering things like, “The gatekeeper got beaten before and is now scared of the lord.”
White: “???”
Lan He: “No, really, I didn’t hit him. He’s also part of the underworld administration, just like us—essentially working in the judiciary. How could I be like some gangster?”
Back then, Lan He had only argued with the gatekeeper. However, Yan San, wanting to thank him, had taken it upon himself to beat up the gatekeeper…
White scratched his face. “You’re right.”
Song Futan chuckled quietly and leaned over to whisper in Lan He’s ear, “So, a ‘legal rogue’?”
Lan He: “…”
Feigning calmness, Lan He greeted Yan San, “Brother Yan San, I’ll leave it here. He’s a living soul, not suitable for entering the city.” He even gave White some spare change, saving the larger bills for burning later.
“Alright, thank you both,” Yan San said. “Don’t worry about this ghost; I’ll take care of him. Besides, judging by how well you two get along, there shouldn’t be any problems.”
“Bye-bye,” Lan He and White waved.
During his subsequent life in the underworld, White finally understood why the officials always claimed the customs here were simple and honest… In front of him, they couldn’t be more so!
…
Meanwhile, Xiao Yuqian, after giving away the porcelain plate to Dou Chunting for free, went to a temple to burn incense.
Xiao Yuqian didn’t understand much about these rituals. Before burning incense, many people gave him suggestions. Temples dedicated to goddesses were ruled out. Although the Bixia Yuanjun is known for blessings in various areas, her fame primarily lies in granting children. The same goes for the Dongyue Temple. The Juehui Temple was a bit far, located on the other side of the city. There were also a few other temples and Taoist shrines, which were reputedly quite effective in recent years. Or rather, paranormal rumors had become more prevalent in the capital during these years.
In the end, Xiao Yuqian chose the capital’s City God Temple.
Why? It was related to a recent incident in the entertainment industry.
Specifically, an unscrupulous vendor infringed on rights by selling “underworld marriage certificates” in a cemetery. Many celebrities had their rights infringed upon, with Chen Xingyang even reporting it to the police. Eventually, it was handled according to the law.
However, later rumors spread within the industry that some celebrities whose names appeared on those underworld marriage certificates genuinely dreamed of ghost marriages. When the story broke, private discussions revealed that several people had experienced similar things.
Further rumors suggested that buyers who knowingly purchased the certificates faced retribution—plagued by nightmares and dragged off by the City God for punishment.
Xiao Yuqian didn’t know if those buyers were having nightmares, nor had he been dragged into a ghost marriage. However, a colleague of his reportedly dreamed of it once or twice. Later, that colleague visited the City God Temple, complained, and was reassured. The City God, having heard his grievances, supposedly granted him pleasant dreams as compensation.
Whether it was psychological or not, that colleague was quite pleased. He started regularly burning incense at the temple afterward.
The City God Temple was a small one, only recently reopened after renovations a few years ago. The incense offerings had gradually picked up since then. Xiao Yuqian, being on good terms with that colleague, decided to visit as well.
And then, it happened. He dreamed of someone telling him that his previous dreams weren’t caused by vengeful spirits but were warnings. He should thank the spirits by burning paper money. Moreover, because he had freely given the porcelain plate for chanting rituals, sparing others from suffering, he had done a good deed. As a result, he continued having pleasant dreams for several nights.
Xiao Yuqian couldn’t help sharing this story on set, especially since it had already been resolved. “Do you guys think this is too miraculous? I really should burn some paper money for that kind ghost. I wonder why they warned me.”
Everyone joined in the discussion. Some had heard of the underworld marriage certificate scandal and its aftermath, sparking even more conversation.
Dou Chunting, who knew the truth, couldn’t say anything. He was dying to spill the beans but had to hold back.
Only Lan He nonchalantly said, “What you think about during the day, you dream of at night. This is purely your subconscious suggestion.”
Xiao Yuqian scratched his head. “That might be true, but I’m still going to burn some paper money and keep offering incense… You don’t understand; those dreams were beautiful.”
Lan He revealed a defiant smile and walked away briskly.
Song Qiyun was standing nearby and heard everything. No matter how many times this happened, he still couldn’t help but look at Lan He with a peculiar expression and feel an overwhelming urge to comment.
Before Song Qiyun could speak, Lan He said with emotion, “What kind of person am I, not even feeling guilty about lying?!”
Song Qiyun: “…………”
Lan He’s scenes were almost done filming. In the climactic part of *Ghostly Charm*, the devout protagonist turned into a god-slayer, fighting in a temple. During the shoot, Old Bai came to the set and squatted nearby to watch, waiting for his pay while listening to Song Qiyun directing Lan He and the protagonist team.
“The protagonist needs to pay special attention to the feeling later, imagining it as if you’re overthrowing your father,” Song Qiyun said, mainly addressing Lan He, then took a sip of jasmine tea to quench his dry throat.
Song Futan, who was standing nearby, noticed Xiao Yuqian’s curious expression and explained, “In the anthropology of religion, there’s a hypothesis that the relationship between gods and humans is a projection of the parent-child relationship, tied to social customs. In Chinese society, deities are even more secularized because many gods were elected by people, reflecting the sanctification of humans or the humanization of gods…”
In other words, the film’s theme of overthrowing divine authority also metaphorically challenges patriarchal authority, subtly reflecting real-world society.
Xiao Yuqian nodded, half-understanding, “That’s so complicated. I haven’t even finished my last book on philosophers, and now gods and Lan He are like father and son.”
Old Bai, who had shown little interest earlier, suddenly slapped his thigh in excitement when Song Futan mentioned the parent-child projection in god-human relationships. “Next time someone says I’m mercenary and treat everyone like a father for money, I’ll say there’s theoretical backing! It’s profound!”
Lan He: “…………”
Even after Lan He finished filming his scene, Old Bai kept chattering, “I’ve got to memorize this. Our family is rich—why can’t I call out something nice for once? What about those gossiping, saying I’d lose face if promoted? Even if I became a judge, it’d still be the same logic… What’s that? Religious anthropology? Gods and humans are like father and son?”
Song Futan: “…Generally, in such relationships, the god is the father, and the human is the child.”
Old Bai glared at him, “Aren’t we advocating overthrowing them? And who’ll know if you don’t say anything?”
Song Futan: “…………”
“Don’t bother explaining to Old Bai; he’s uneducated,” Lan He remarked casually. “By the way, isn’t Zhenwu Bridge Park about to be completed?”
Old Bai: “Yeah, the day after tomorrow. The park’s named Honglian Park, apparently to commemorate Little Song.”
Coincidentally, Lan He’s last shooting day was also the day after tomorrow. He said, “Don’t make it sound like Little Song died—what’s with the commemoration… What about First Miss Hu?”
Old Bai: “Almost done too!”
As he said this, his face lit up with a schadenfreude-filled smile. One could only imagine how lively it would be when the time came, full of good drama to watch.
Lan He thought of this and sighed deeply. His living space really wasn’t big enough—how many little animals were they planning to cram in there…
…
The wrap-up scene was simple. After Lan He’s last shot, the crew applauded together. Yu Mengmeng even presented a bouquet of flowers; she and Xiao Yuqian still had a couple more days of filming.
“Thank you, everyone…” Lan He expressed his gratitude to the staff and prepared to leave the set.
Everyone noticed that when he left, he took the screenwriter with him.
With Lan He’s wrap-up, Song Futan also wrapped up and left the crew, as if afraid others wouldn’t know he had joined the production just to accompany Lan He. Truly the man who once worked as Lan He’s assistant.
Carrying his luggage, Lan He headed home. Though filming was done, in a couple of days, he’d be shooting a car commercial, and the company would line up new assignments. He received a message from the company in the elevator.
Among the numerous offers, one caught Lan He’s eye: “Whoa… someone actually wants me to play a monk!”
Song Futan: “?”
“Haha, well, not exactly. At that time, he was still a layman—a certain Master Jing Sheng,” Lan He noted, looking up the historical figure. Jing Sheng was a famous master in the late Qing and early Republican era, known for his poetry, painting, and writing, earning the nickname “The Script-selling Guanyin.” It was said that being both a monk and a layman was difficult, and he eventually formally took monastic vows.
The movie revolved around the literary world of that era, with Master Jing Sheng as one of the protagonists. Moreover, the project was initiated with government backing as part of a cultural film series, making it prestigious and politically sound. The company suggested Lan He should strive for the role since he was invited to audition.
Song Futan commented, “Master Jing Sheng wrote excellent poetry, but…”
It wasn’t that he doubted Lan He’s acting skills; he just wondered if the film would depict Jing Sheng formally taking vows. If so, after rejecting the idea of becoming a monk for so many years, Lan He might end up portraying one.
“We’ll see; I might not even get selected. If I do, I’ll go experience life at Juehui Temple,” Lan He joked, thinking of the vegetarian meals there and wiping his mouth as he stepped out of the elevator.
As he opened his door, Lan He immediately shut it again, overcome with discomfort.
Song Futan: “What’s wrong?”
Lan He opened the door again to show him. Inside, a massive snake sprawled across the floor, occupying nearly the entire living room. On the sofa, a fox and several weasels were munching on food. The TV was blasting a show at maximum volume, with joss paper drifting across the floor. The whole room exuded an air of idle indulgence.
The weasels were none other than Melonhead’s family, who had come to claim their share of vegetarian offerings. One of them was handing some beans to Hu 79. “79, here are the beans you wanted.”
In his paw lay a few plump yellow soybeans.
Hu 79 was furious and swatted his bean cap-covered head repeatedly with her paw. “These beans? These beans?!”
Lan He: “…”
Careful not to step on the snake, Lan He tiptoed inside and asked, exasperated, “Can you keep this under control?”
Liu 13 retracted his body and transformed into human form, sitting on the floor with his back against the coffee table, his eyes glued to the TV.
Lan He sighed. “Can’t you sit on the couch?”
Liu 13 replied indifferently, “The floor is cooler.”
Lan He touched the TV and found it burning hot. It had clearly been running for hours. He turned it off with a click.
Liu 13 immediately pounded the floor in rage. “What are you doing?!”
“Be careful not to break the floor,” Lan He reminded him before snapping, “Didn’t I tell you to watch in moderation? How many hours have you been watching? Also, how did you even get up here? Where’s your phone?”
Liu 13 looked away and muttered sulkily, “It broke.”
His sheepish tone betrayed his guilt.
“That was a brand-new phone! And you already broke it?” Lan He inspected the device. It wasn’t entirely broken—just the screen, which had been cracked by Liu 13 somehow. “It still works. I’m not replacing it. I never agreed to this kind of wastefulness.”
He tossed the phone back to Liu 13, who glared at him before flopping onto the floor and continuing to watch his show on the cracked screen of his old-fashioned phone.
Melonhead smiled obsequiously at Lan He. “Welcome back, Master Lai.”
Lan He: “Melonhead, here for the vegetarian offerings?”
Song Futan had already put down his luggage and came to sit down, casually exposing Melonhead’s real intentions. “Melonhead must be here to ask Hu 79 for a favor.”
Lan He recalled the beans Melonhead had handed to Hu 79—albeit the wrong ones.
Melonhead picked up his round, plump eldest daughter, rubbed her head affectionately, and subtly displayed her sleek, shiny fur and sharp teeth. “No, not at all. Just here to thank Miss 79 for sharing the offerings.”
But Hu 79, uninterested in saving face, exposed him outright. After all, she hadn’t even gotten the right beans, and who said promises had to be kept? “Melonhead told his wife, ‘Master Lai already keeps Hu, Bai, and Liu under his care. Our daughter’s appetite is growing with her body, and she’s getting harder to manage. Why not send her to Master Lai to work as a child laborer? Maybe we could even get some incense offerings in return.’ He wanted me to help persuade you!”
Melonhead’s eldest daughter, who had been stretching lazily, froze. “???”
Caught red-handed, Melonhead covered his face with his paws in embarrassment. “No, no, what I meant was that if she could learn a thing or two from Master Lai…”
Big appetite aside, Yu Hangjia was wealthy, but his daughter was indeed too unruly, always teasing the local kids. Yu Hangjia had complained to Melonhead multiple times. But Melonhead was… lazy—too lazy to discipline her.
“No wonder you’re a weasel from the old days,” Lan He said, amused by the daughter’s aggrieved expression. “You really think I’d help raise your child?”
Melonhead had considered this carefully. After all, hadn’t Master Lai already taken in a Liu Immortal? He’d even suggested joining Master Lai long ago and was practically an old-timer. “No, no, it’s for you to command. My daughter may be young, but she’s good at fighting and can take a hit…”
The little weasel’s confusion only deepened. “???”
Lan He chuckled. “Do I look like I need more fighters?”
Liu 13 and Hu 79 both turned to look at him. Even Bai Wu, the assassin, poked his round ear out from the upper floor of the God of Wealth Pavilion.
Melonhead fell silent.
Mumbling to himself, Melonhead added, “It’s just prejudice against the reputation of us weasels. We wouldn’t cause trouble here… Wouldn’t it be great to complete the set of Hu, Huang, Bai, and Liu?”
Lan He responded coldly, “I don’t have OCD.”
Some might think that since he had already taken in three clans, he might as well complete the fourth. But Lan He felt these three were already enough of a headache!
No wonder those so-called spiritual masters, who claim to provide for hundreds of celestial beings, need a leader elected for their halls. It’s unimaginable how they endure it.
…
Lan He spent two days at home folding gold paper ingots—and enduring relentless noise.
Hu 79 constantly lost her temper while playing on her phone, furiously voting for Lan He in various online polls at lightning speed. She also insisted on showing Liu 13 every comment. Whenever Liu 13 came across remarks like “Stop acting in lighthearted dramas and take on more serious roles,” regardless of whether they were about Lan He, he would erupt like a thunderstorm. His sudden outbursts of rage had scared Yi Ping nearly into a nervous breakdown.
When it was finally time to leave for work, Lan He felt a profound sense of relief.
“I finally understand why Yi Ping likes big houses,” Lan He said to Song Futan. “At least there’s some space to hide.”
He used to think a smaller home was more convenient to clean, especially since Hu 79, the only one with outdoor needs, would take herself out. Now, the cramped quarters felt oppressive and noisy.
Song Futan immediately offered, “I have a larger place. Want to move in together?”
Since Song Qiyun already knew about their relationship, there was nothing to hide.
Lan He was genuinely tempted. He asked about the location, and the two began to whisper back and forth, deep in discussion. It was only after a long while that Lan He realized, “Wait, live together?”
“Is that okay?” Song Futan kissed him on the ear.
Lan He gave him a soulful look. “Aren’t you afraid?”
Song Futan lowered his voice, “Afraid of being discovered? I’m not—”
Lan He interrupted, “Aren’t you afraid being a stepfather will be exhausting?”
Song Futan: “………………”
“Hahaha, time to work! I’ll think about it!” Lan He leaped up excitedly.
The shoot location was on the outskirts of Beijing. Lan He changed into his costume while the styling team fixed his look. His manager was also on-site, personally overseeing the ad shoot. In the past, when Lan He’s career was in a slump, his manager wasn’t nearly as attentive. Now, the company had assembled a dedicated team for him.
At the moment, his manager was pacing nearby, fiddling with her phone.
Lan He called out, “Sis, why don’t you sit and take a break?”
“I’m playing a game,” the manager replied, chewing gum. “Can’t you tell? *Pokémon Go*. You know Pikachu, right?”
Lan He nodded. “Oh, Pikachu, I know. What’s the game about?”
The manager explained, “Basically, players catch Pokémon like Pikachu and Squirtle. You can also trade them with other players or battle them. Try it; it’s pretty fun.”
Lan He closed his eyes in exhaustion. “I’ll pass. I’m kind of over it.”
Manager: “???”
Author’s Note:
Old Bai: “You think I randomly choose to call someone ‘Dad’? This behavior actually reflects profound societal traits!”
Lan He: “Thanks, but no thanks. Catching all four clans isn’t enough of a game for me already?”
chapter 78 is missing! just letting u know
He has his own real life pokemons XD