Bai Wu and the others hadn’t expected Lan He to return early. The house was filled with Lan He’s scent, but Bai Wu, lost in his daydreams, hadn’t even noticed.
Startled by Lan He’s smack, Bai Wu toppled forward and slumped onto the floor, staring at the ground in a sulky manner. “That’s what I mean—most household spirits choose successors…”
“It’s called a successor, not an heir! What’s there to inherit?” Lan He retorted. “You think your dad can leave you anything?”
Bai Wu: “…”
Liu 13 burst out laughing gleefully. Spirits from other households always treated their hosts as disciples or juniors, enjoying respectful offerings and incense. “Look at this Bai spirit, acting so spineless. A dignified spirit reduced to being someone’s son.”
Bai Wu: “…”
Everyone else: “…………”
For some reason, after Liu 13’s ridicule, the others all turned to look at him with strange expressions.
Liu 13: “What are you all staring at???”
First Lady Hu lightly smoothed her sleek, shiny tail. “Hu, Huang, Bai, Liu… Hu, Huang, Bai, Liu…”
No wonder the Liu clan was ranked last.
“Why are you back early, master?” Hu 79 propped her chin on her hand and asked, “Did your dad disapprove of Xiao Song and kick you both out?”
Liu 13 immediately forgot about questioning First Lady Hu’s meaning and fixed his worried gaze on Lan He, the perfect picture of a distressed snake.
“Of course not. My dad approved so enthusiastically he was practically cooing,” Lan He replied. “But I had work to do, so I came back early. By the way, do you know what happened at Beihai? I heard someone lost their soul there.”
Liu 13: “What do you mean? I was only supposed to patrol the Red Lotus Park!”
Lan He ignored him and looked at the others.
First Lady Hu spoke lazily, “People lose their souls every day. Unless they came to Miaogan Mountain to burn incense, how would I know? But as far as I recall, there’s nothing unusual.”
Hu 79 and Bai Wu both shook their heads; they rarely ventured out. “Is this some big human affair?”
—Household spirits viewed things differently from humans. What they saw as trivial might be a major issue for people. For example, if minor ghosts appeared at the Forbidden City or a tourist spot, spirits would find it mundane, but humans would take it seriously. Beihai, being a former imperial garden and a famous scenic spot, was no exception.
“Not really,” Lan He replied. “The person who lost their soul is just looking for a spiritual practitioner… maybe it’s their own karma. Never mind, I’ll go pack my things.”
…
A few days later, Lan He attended a charity event organized by a TV station. With the end of the year approaching, such ceremonies and events were plentiful.
Once again, he and Song Futan attended together. Even the industry media and fans were starting to feel disoriented. What kind of friendship was this inseparable? They went everywhere together. If they were really a couple, they’d surely avoid being seen together in such public settings. Were they just that open?
At the event, Lan He ran into Yu Hangjia, who was accompanied by Ying Shao.
“Mr. Ying.” Lan He greeted him as if he were an old neighbor he hadn’t seen in years, perfectly portraying a sense of familiar unfamiliarity. “You’re here too?”
Ying Shao: “…Heh, yeah, Mr. Yu brought me to see the celebrities.”
“Lan He, Xuang Guang,” Yu Hangjia greeted them with a cheerful smile. “Oh, you came together. Director Song isn’t here?”
Lan He replied, “No, you know how much Director Song dislikes these kinds of occasions.”
Yu Hangjia gave a peculiar smile. “Still busy recently with the new film?”
Lan He was taken aback. “What film?”
Wasn’t the new film their *Ghostly Charm*? After wrapping up, they had reshot some scenes, and post-production was probably just finishing. He wasn’t sure about the exact progress.
“Xuang Guang didn’t tell you?” Yu Hangjia raised an eyebrow, thinking to himself, *Aren’t these two supposed to be close?*
Song Futan said, “I don’t know either. I haven’t been home recently.”
Yu Hangjia: “…” *Right, the news mentioned they went back to Lan He’s hometown together. Clearly, they’re so close that Xuang Guang doesn’t even need to keep track of home updates.*
Yu Hangjia: “Oh, it’s about *Ghostly Charm*—it’s already been submitted for review, but I heard there’s some controversy about the content.”
“What?” Lan He gripped his cup tightly. “Why?”
Although he asked, he had a hunch about the reason.
Sure enough, Yu Hangjia said, “Probably because there’s too much superstitious and ghost-related content.”
Lan He was speechless. “But it all reflects reality!” Besides, it even challenges the idea of divine authority in the end.
“Heh, maybe that makes it even worse?” Yu Hangjia teased.
Lan He: “…”
“But don’t stress about it too much. Controversy means there’s opposition but also support. Director Song and Producer Dou are probably lobbying to persuade the reviewers, right? Worst case, some cuts and edits might be necessary. Oh, by the way, I heard your visual effects for this cost a fortune.” Yu Hangjia seemed more concerned about the commercial side. “And you’ve got another project, *Old Stories of Mountains and Rivers*, don’t you? That one should be fine—it’s state-approved.”
Lan He nodded but still felt frustrated. This script was so special to him and Song Futan; it was their first collaboration. How could he not be upset when faced with such obstacles?
Yu Hangjia had initially regretted not being part of the project, but now he felt a bit fortunate. Who knew how long the review process might drag on? After finishing his remarks, he moved on to socialize elsewhere.
Ying Shao stayed behind and quietly said, “It’ll probably be fine, right? Yu Hangjia mentioned edits could be made.”
“The problem is, we don’t want to make edits,” Lan He replied. “It’s so annoying. Why is this even an issue?”
Song Futan tried to console him. “Yu Hangjia did say it’s controversial. We’ll do our best, and the result is still uncertain.”
“Mm,” Lan He murmured softly.
His dejected look made Song Futan’s heart ache. He kept staring at Lan He.
Lan He looked back, feeling even more pitiful. They weren’t just reviewing their film—it felt like they were reviewing his love story.
Ying Shao cautiously raised his hand. “Uh, hello?”
Lan He snapped out of it and said, “Oh… right. How’s Master Ma?”
Ying Shao pointed to the dark circles under his eyes. “Take a look.”
He had severe bags under his eyes from staying up for days with his master, searching the mountains for spirits. “We found Granny Long. Back then, when she was critically ill, her son and daughter-in-law heard her calling but ignored her because of a previous argument. As a result, they didn’t rescue her in time, and she passed away. Uncle Long and Auntie Long initially denied it, but how could they hold out when haunted by guilt? Even legally, neglecting to save someone carries consequences. My master performed rituals for three days and nights to send her off. Now he doesn’t want to return to Beijing and plans to stay in Hunan a while longer.”
Lan He sighed, unsure what to say. Official punishment or ghostly retribution—both had to be faced.
Ying Shao added, “By the way, do you know about that incident at Northern Park?”
Lan He glanced at him. “Yeah, you know about it too?”
“You didn’t take the job?” Ying Shao asked. “I thought you might have been selected—heard the pay’s really good.”
“It’s not me. I don’t take side gigs,” Lan He replied, sipping his drink. “Anyway, you should leave now. Don’t let people see us chatting for too long—you’re too superstitious, and it messes with my public persona.”
Ying Shao: “…………”
…The entertainment industry is so fake!
…
At the event, Lan He ran into some acquaintances. When it was time to take their seats, he found himself next to an old friend from the industry, and they started chatting.
Since he was wearing formal attire, Lan He didn’t have his phone on him. As they talked, he suddenly noticed a dark figure float into the room. Upon closer inspection, it was a pale-faced man wearing a tall hat inscribed with “Peace in the World.” It was none other than Yan San.
Lan He immediately scanned the room. *Damn, who here is about to die?*
On stage, the host was making lighthearted jokes about the celebrities. He turned his attention to Lan He and said, “It seems Lan He has once again attended with Master Xuang Guang. I even heard they spent New Year’s together. Their friendship is truly enviable—a pair of best bros.”
All eyes turned to Lan He.
At that moment, Yan San floated directly in front of him. Lan He sat up straight, pretending not to notice.
Yan San whispered, “Master Lan, Xiao Song, this is bad—really bad. The old monk has fainted.”
Lan He and Song Futan froze for a moment. The “old monk” Yan San mentioned usually referred to one person: Master Budong.
“Sorry, something came up…” Lan He stood up and left, with Song Futan also excusing himself shortly after.
The others: “Oh ho, someone’s mad.”
They speculated that Lan He wasn’t happy about being described as just “good bros” with Song Futan. However, those who knew Lan He well thought, *He’s not usually this sensitive.*
The host panicked. “Uh, it was just a joke…”
Seeing the tense or amused gazes of the crowd, along with the cameras pointed at him, Lan He didn’t want his abrupt exit to ruin the atmosphere. He smiled and quipped, “What? Haven’t seen good bros go to the bathroom together?”
He even deliberately grabbed Song Futan’s hand.
The room burst into laughter, and the host let out a relieved sigh. “Ahaha, boys can go to the restroom together too!”
Out of the camera’s view, Lan He explained to one of the event staff, “I’m sorry, but an elder is unwell, and I need to go check on them. Apologies for leaving early.”
His polite explanation earned understanding from the staff, who even thought, *Despite leaving, he gave us a great moment for the show. Truly professional…*
…
Once they were out of sight, Lan He turned to Yan San and asked, “What’s going on? Is Master Budong at the hospital? Why are you the one delivering the news?”
It was unnerving to see a ghost messenger delivering such information—it felt like Master Budong might be on his deathbed, and they were being summoned for a final farewell. If not for Master Budong’s usual robust health and energy, Lan He might have been genuinely scared.
“He’s at the temple,” Yan San replied. “A young monk asked me to check where the old monk’s soul went. His lifespan isn’t over, but I couldn’t find him. I wondered who could harm the old monk? The young monk said he went to Beihai to retrieve a lost soul, but now his own soul is missing.”
Lan He: “…”
Yan San continued, “Apparently, there’s a Beihai Dragon King keeping guests there. Strange, right?”
Lan He: “…”
So the situation at Beihai had escalated to the point where they called in Master Budong? That was quite an honor.
Moreover, Beihai wasn’t actually a sea—just a large pond. Calling it the domain of a “Dragon King” was laughable. A turtle king would be more fitting.
The mention of a dragon made Lan He recall something.
Long ago, during a conversation with Elder Dou, he had mentioned the four rumored dragons of Beijing: one under the North New Bridge, one at Gaoliang Bridge, one at Black Dragon Pool, and one at Beihai. It had been confirmed that the North New Bridge housed a dragon-shaped stabilizing artifact, while the situations at Gaoliang Bridge and Black Dragon Pool were unclear. Beihai, however, seemed to indeed have one.
But based on Lan He’s experience—and the relatively calm expression on Yan San’s perpetually deadpan face—this so-called “dragon”…
Lan He asked, “Liu clan?”
Yan San nodded, sweating. “Yes, it seems to be a Chang family member. It’s been dormant for years and somehow woke up, keeping visitors on the water. Master Budong went to retrieve souls and ended up trapped too.”
The Liu clan had three branches: the Liu family, descended from Xiangliu; the Chang family, whose name (“Chang”) referenced serpents; and the Mang family, related to pythons.
Lan He’s heart sank as he exchanged a glance with Song Futan.
Something about this felt off.
Even with the stabilizing artifact in place, normal activities of spiritual beings shouldn’t be disrupted. This Chang family spirit hadn’t done anything too outrageous—it wasn’t even as bold as Liu 13’s antics back then, where two people were taken. Yet…
Song Futan noted, “Liu 13 also woke from dormancy. At the time, he said it might be due to global warming.”
Lan He murmured, “Right… We all laughed it off.”
When Liu 13 woke up back then, his disruptive actions were attributed to the destabilization of the artifact, and no one thought much of it after resolving the issue. It was dismissed as just another incident.
But for a Chang family spirit to wake suddenly, and with winter approaching no less, and to trap even Master Budong—it was no small feat. Over the past few decades, the only other reappearance of a dormant Liu clan spirit was the fiery outburst of a Liu spirit from the Northern Peak Goddess Temple. It was a rare occurrence.
The timing of this Chang family spirit waking up felt odd. The stabilizing artifact was in place; it shouldn’t be a chain reaction. Could it be that someone at Beihai disturbed its lair?
Yan San caught on to their concern. “I checked. Right now, there are very few tourists on the water, and the management hasn’t done anything disruptive. Even during annual maintenance, they’ve never gone deep enough to disturb it.”
Lan He’s pulse quickened. “I’ll notify Liu 13 and ask him and First Lady Hu to meet us at Juehui Temple.”
By the time they reached Juehui Temple, Lan He’s household spirits had gathered as well.
Liu 13 was shouting, “What North Sea Dragon King, just bragging, I know her. She’s a little water snake from the Chang family, occupying a pond for generations to cultivate. She can’t even enter the Forbidden City. Among the legitimate skilled ones in the imperial gardens, the Liu family of the Yuanmingyuan had two. She would have to call me uncle if she saw me!”
He enjoyed bragging himself but disliked seeing his peers do it, even looking down on them for turning a pond into a sea with their words.
“Then do you know how she woke up? Or rather, how did you wake up back then?” Lan He asked.
Seeing him approach, Liu 13 hesitated and replied, “This… I don’t know either. I just woke up on my own. Isn’t it because of global warming? Anyway, after waking up, I saw a golden opportunity—someone nearby was building a bridge—so I went to collect some offerings.”
First Lady Hu sat quietly with a somber face. She said slowly, “This snake was once registered as Chang 15, real name Yue Yuan. She had been cultivating under the sea in the North for many years before waking for unknown reasons. Moreover, I checked all the suppressive artifacts, and they remain intact.”
First Lady Hu was sharp, so even though Chang Yue Yuan hadn’t caused major storms yet, her awakening was already on First Lady Hu’s radar. Furthermore, she kept another concern suppressed in her heart, one she hadn’t shared.
“Let’s not let our thoughts scatter. Let’s go check on Master Budong,” Lan He suggested.
“Yes, maybe it’s just fate for the Liu family to resurface?” Yan San said. “I was quite worried initially, but seeing you all treat this as a major threat makes me think it’s unnecessary. This North Sea Dragon King isn’t even a true dragon.”
He was mainly referring to First Lady Hu and Lan He, especially First Lady Hu, who served at Miaogan Mountain.
The name “North Sea Dragon King” sounded grand and had left legends in the capital, but it wasn’t truly the North Sea, nor was it a real dragon.
Lan He, already prone to lingering symptoms and anxiety, was overthinking wildly upon hearing this. Although he smiled at Yan San, he couldn’t shake off the ominous feeling in his heart.
“By the way, isn’t Old Bai here?” Lan He suddenly asked.
Yan San replied, “No, he’s gone to handle matters in the underworld.”
When they entered the meditation room, they saw Master Budong lying unconscious on the bed, with several monks chanting sutras beside him.
Monk Sikong opened his eyes upon seeing them and stood up, bowing his hands together.
“Master Sikong, did Master Budong go alone back then?” Lan He asked.
Sikong sighed, “Yes, he understood the origins of this ‘Dragon King’ and believed he could handle it alone. Who knew he’d lose his soul?”
Lan He said concisely, “Let’s focus on rescuing Master Budong first. A soul can’t stay out of the body for too long—and also the guest she detained. Since Master Budong met trouble, that person surely didn’t return either.”
This Dragon King had detained several guests at sea, enough to form a mahjong table. The worry was that she might not stop at mahjong and might host a party.
“We need to proceed with caution,” another monk, Siming, said. “Even the abbot thought this Chang immortal would be easy to subdue, but he got caught. It shows she’s no simple being. Master Lai, your opinion…?”
Indeed, Master Lai was a renowned scoundrel, but his cultivation and experience were still not on par with the abbot’s.
“Even if she’s complicated, her progress must follow basic cultivation principles. What can a little water snake achieve in two hundred years? She wasn’t even a top expert in the capital,” Liu 13 said fiercely, flicking out his snake tongue in a menacing manner. The scar on his face made him look even more terrifying. “What’s wrong with Lan He? Back then, he pinned me down and beat me up like this!!”
Siming: “…”
Song Futan: “…There’s no need to sound so proud about it, is there?”
Liu 13: “………………”
Momentarily carried away…
Author’s note:
Ate too much dragon beard candy, and the sense of family honor is skyrocketing.