Chapter 141: Children’s Laughter (20)
No one had expected things to unfold like this.
Almost at the same time they realized what had happened, the evil spirits surrounding the Jing residence sprang into action, lunging straight at the group.
Everyone immediately turned and fled.
“So, what Brother Yan meant was — someone just thought of all this stuff in their head, right?” Zhang Wubing felt like crying his heart out.
Tears streamed down his face as he ran, screaming hoarsely at the top of his lungs, “Who! Who was it!”
At that moment, Zhao Zhen, who had noticed where Yan Shixun’s gaze had been directed earlier, glanced silently at An Nanyuan running beside him.
Zhang Wubing’s aggrieved shouting seemed to act like a switch, suddenly reminding Song Ci of the scene just before they entered the Jing residence — when Lu Xingxing had driven like mad to shake off the monsters chasing them.
Song Ci instantly froze: “…”
“An! Nan! Yuan!”
Song Ci gritted his teeth, his temper flaring up as he snapped, “Why does every place you show up at turn into hell-level difficulty? Can you please stop letting your brain run wild?”
“Can’t you just think about something like alpacas eating grass?!”
Initially, Song Ci had scoffed at Yan Shixun’s suggestion, thinking he was treating them like kids — how could imagining alpacas eating grass possibly ward off evil?
He had spent so many years chasing ghosts before joining the show and had never heard of any school of thought that used such a method.
But now, Song Ci suddenly felt that Yan Shixun, the master he had admired enough to want to steal from Zhang Wubing, really knew what he was talking about—
Alpacas eating grass… it really worked!
Though the others said nothing, they all turned to look silently at An Nanyuan.
An Nanyuan whimpered, “QAQ I’m sorry, but my brain… it just has a mind of its own!”
He couldn’t control it at all!
Zhang Wubing, utterly despondent, said, “I feel like this place now is basically a horror movie exhibition hall — An Nanyuan, just how many horror movies and shows have you watched? Why are there so many different types? Even stuff from foreign folk legends is showing up!”
As he spoke, Yan Shixun swung his civility cane in a full arc with impressive momentum, knocking a headless horseman who was charging diagonally at them flying.
The horseman crashed right into a female ghost brandishing a knife who was rushing in behind him. The ghost’s hideous face turned to stunned confusion, unable to comprehend what was happening.
But before she could react, the immense force sent her hurtling backward, knocking down several other ghosts trying to pounce, before finally crashing into the wall with a resounding *bang!*
As she slid down the wall, she happened to land squarely atop another female ghost crawling along the floor. The impact smashed her head into a pulp, spraying red and white matter all over the wall.
She didn’t move again.
It was like a domino effect: Yan Shixun toppled the first piece, and all the rest collapsed.
The civility cane spun deftly through Yan Shixun’s long fingers before he coldly jammed it into the floor with a deafening *thud!*
He stacked his hands atop the cane, looking down at the dissolving spirits with icy, fearless eyes.
Even though he was surrounded by evil spirits, Yan Shixun’s eyelashes drooped slightly, and his rapidly turning mind had already formulated a plan.
Just like he always had, he walked the line between yin and yang, as sharp and untouchable as a blade’s edge.
His tall, lean figure, clad in a custom-tailored suit, displayed perfectly proportioned muscles hidden beneath the three-piece outfit — making everyone admire only his unrivaled beauty.
But once Yan Shixun moved, the taut strength under that suit revealed itself with stunning force, reminding everyone—
Just how powerful Yan Shixun truly was.
Ye Li, who had intended to step in, silently lowered his hand. But his fingers twitched slightly by his side, as if longing to grab the young man’s wrist and hold on forever.
Ye Li watched Yan Shixun, proud and composed, his narrow eyes widening slightly, the emotion in them rippling like disturbed water.
Yet at the same time, a faint smile curved his lips.
This was… *his* exorcist.
One of a kind, shining even in the darkness.
Everyone watched with wide eyes as the knight’s metal armor clattered against the wall, producing a deafening metallic clash, leaving them all dazed.
—All the ghosts, legends from ancient and modern times, from East and West… couldn’t withstand it!
An Nanyuan, why did you watch so many horror movies?! Were you just bad but addicted?!
The crowd roared inwardly, while An Nanyuan frantically chanted “alpacas eating grass” in his mind.
But it was already too late.
The ghosts An Nanyuan had conjured in his imagination now lurked around every corner and shadow, watching the fleeing humans.
They grinned malevolently in the dark, their murky, hollow eyes fixed hungrily on living flesh, craving to tear into it and drink its blood.
The fear of the living only nourished them, making them stronger.
The more people feared the unknown dangers in the dark, the stronger the ghosts became.
Song Ci’s physical condition wasn’t great; as a pampered young master always chauffeured around, he had never gone through any real training. After running for a while, he was already gasping for breath, his little face pale.
But this was not a time to stop.
No one knew exactly what was going on in An Nanyuan’s mind — not even An Nanyuan himself.
Yet once these thoughts materialized into reality, it became a disaster.
The floor-to-ceiling windows and ornate glass doors around the living room shattered one after another. Accompanied by the thunderous sound of glass breaking, ghostly figures surged in from outside.
Even zombies.
Zhang Wubing accidentally caught a glimpse and was so horrified by the zombies’ decomposed flesh and grotesque wounds that his scalp went numb.
Never had he hated his good eyesight so much — the zombies weren’t far away, and he could see every vein bulging grotesquely under their rotting skin, every hideous wound, in perfect, stomach-churning detail.
He almost wanted to gouge out his own eyes.
Fear was like a virus, capable of spreading through a crowd.
Not just An Nanyuan — with the appearance of the monsters, nearly everyone’s mind began conjuring up the most frightening images from videos and pictures they had seen before. Every fear materialized one after another.
It became a vicious cycle, a chain reaction with no end in sight.
The door beside the corridor slowly creaked open, yet no one was there — only a small porcelain doll, staring at them with its glassy eyes and a fixed, chilling smile.
Reflected in the mirror beside it, a nun with a faceless, ghostly white visage under her hood reached out a skeletal, terrifying hand, as if trying to drag those outside the mirror into it.
The audience outside the scene screamed wildly, becoming so paranoid that they thought there were ghostly shadows lurking everywhere, even inside their own homes.
But the worst part was — they didn’t have a Yan Shixun to come and save them, ahhhhh!!
[Holy crap! I just lifted my head and saw the mirror in my bedroom! There’s not much space in my rented place, so the mirror faces the bed at an angle. I never thought much of it before, but now it feels terrifying, ahhh!! What if someone is watching me from the mirror while I sleep?!]
[Wuwuwu I don’t want to play anymore, Mommy, I want to go home, wuwuwu! It’s too scary. I buried my whole head under the blanket and didn’t dare to even peek outside.]
[…I quietly pulled my foot back under the blanket, tucked every corner of it in tight, and started chanting “alpaca” like crazy in my heart. Yup, I’ll be fine, QAQ.]
[Holy shit, holy shit!! There are zombies climbing up outside the window!! What the hell is this hell-difficulty level?! And why is it a mix of Eastern and Western horrors!!!]
[If this were a game, the developers would have been cursed to death already. Setting the difficulty like this—were they just planning for no one to survive?! So many ghosts, I can’t even see the end of them! And it seemed like some of them were invisible even to Brother Yan! Damn it… this is just pure despair.]
[Honestly, if I were there, I would already be dead—probably scared to death by myself before anything else even happened.]
[As someone who had been a fan of An Nanyuan even before his debut, I always knew he had a wild imagination, but I never thought it was a problem. I mean, everyone fantasizes, right? I even imagine An Nanyuan X me in my head all the time, not a big deal. But now… wuwuwu, brother, please get your brain checked, your imagination is way too dangerous!]
[I… only now realized just how terrifying it could be to have such a vivid imagination.]
[No, I think the scariest thing is that once you’ve seen those images and videos, they pop up automatically whenever you’re scared. If it were just in real life, it would be fine, but here, it’s deadly! When Brother Yan first mentioned it, I didn’t think much, but now I just want to know how they’re going to survive this. This is practically a dead-end!]
[Damn it! Why does my idol love horror movies so much even though he’s such a scaredy-cat! An Nanyuan, what are you doing?! Couldn’t you have watched fewer horror films?! Gradually becoming more and more deranged.jpg]
[I’m begging here, one ghost is scary enough, no need to bring out this many!! I’m starting to worry if Brother Yan can even handle it. A battle of attrition like this could wear anyone down!]
[Ahhhh! Bing Bing, run faster! That ghost is catching up to you!!]
[W-wait! There’s another ghost around the corner, don’t run that way… damn it, it’s too late, ahhhh!!]
Around the corner, a tall shadow quietly waited. Just as everyone, panicked and scrambling, came running by, the figure suddenly raised a massive axe with a savage grin, ready to bring it down.
Everyone screamed, “!!! Ahhhhh Brother Yan, save us!!!”
At that moment, Yan Shixun’s ceremonial staff flew through the air, thrown with precision. It struck the figure directly between the eyebrows, splitting its head apart.
The figure wobbled, the giant axe clattering heavily to the ground, and as it fell, its body dissipated into mist and vanished.
Everyone stood frozen, their hearts pounding so violently that it felt like they might jump out of their throats.
Even the audience, who were only watching through the cameras and not physically present, collapsed weakly in front of their screens, feeling as if they too had just survived a brush with death, drained to the point of almost becoming victims under that giant axe.
“I’ll clear the way. You all run upstairs to Lin Ting’s room.”
Yan Shixun quickly made a decision and said to the others, “Grab Lu Xingxing and the other one too, and hide in Lin Ting’s study upstairs.”
Because of the mystery surrounding Lin Ting’s identity, Yan Shixun judged that she was a special existence among all the characters.
If there was any place left in Jing Estate that could offer real safety, it had to be Lin Ting’s study.
So far, Yan Shixun hadn’t found a single trace of Lin Ting among the group. It was as if the ghost child had forgotten to assign someone to her identity.
But Yan Shixun had another theory—
Since all the others had been assigned roles based on their real-world relationships with Chi Yan and their personalities or behavior, could it mean that Lin Ting’s identity was so different and special that the ghost child was unwilling to hand it over to anyone?
If that were true, then it implied there was some connection between the ghost child and Lin Ting.
But how could a ghost child, raised by Chi Yan in modern times, have any ties to someone active a hundred years ago?
When they had toured Jing Bin’s former residence that afternoon, Yan Shixun had glanced at the information carved into the stone slabs outside.
It stated that the last owner of Jing Manor had died sixty years ago. With no heirs to inherit it, the place had fallen into decline. Only much later had a descendant donated it for public use.
However, the time of Jing Bin’s death was officially recorded—he had died seventy years ago.
In other words, after Jing Bin’s death, it was Lin Ting who lived in the Jing residence. As the last owner of the Jing residence, she had also died there.
At that time, even Chi Yan had not been born yet.
In that case, how had the ghost child become entangled with Lin Ting?
Meanwhile, Yan Shixun recalled that after receiving Chi Yan’s desperate letter—passed along through the Zhang family—he had, at the time, asked Song Ci, who was half an insider of the circle, about Chi Yan’s situation. Chi Yan’s letter had been so earnest and the descriptions so tragic that Yan Shixun, despite knowing nothing about Chi Yan’s karmic ties, had felt compelled to inquire.
Later, although he decided not to take on Chi Yan’s request, he still paid some attention to the troubles surrounding her.
The Jing family.
There had been some rumors before, saying that the one Chi Yan had offended was the Jing family of the capital.
In Li Xuetang’s script, the most important events also took place within the Jing family. In fact, Chi Yan’s original role had been the heroine of *Binhai Nocturne*—Lin Ting.
Yan Shixun’s body stiffened as he suddenly connected these two matters in his mind.
If Chi Yan had stolen the remains of the Jing family’s deceased child, then it would all make sense.
After all, that ghost child also had the features of an evil spirit deeply embedded in its bones. Born during such a turbulent time, it likely had died not long after birth.
Chi Yan must have heard about the ghost child’s Evil Spirit Bone Transformation and had stolen the remains to worship them, hoping to gain powerful fortune to aid her career.
And that ghost child… was very likely Lin Ting’s own child.
This would explain why the ghost child’s attitude toward Lin Ting had seemed different—why it was unwilling to entrust its identity to anyone else.
—A child with deep attachment to its mother would naturally regard her as the best and most special person in the world.
How could it allow someone else to impersonate its mother?
Moreover, Chi Yan portraying Lin Ting in *Binhai Nocturne* would have made the ghost child exceptionally furious, believing that Chi Yan was defiling its mother’s image.
Thus, at the opening ceremony, it had driven Chi Yan away, pulled everyone into its ghostly aura, and forcibly cast Chi Yan into the role it deemed most fitting—
—Lin Qiong, the very character who had caused all the tragedies.
This was probably also why, when Chi Yan realized she was playing Lin Qiong, she wanted to kill Bai Shuang and switch identities.
She knew very well that she was being hunted by the ghost child. With the hatred it bore for her, it would never let her off easily. It would ensure that “Lin Qiong” would be attacked by everyone—both humans and ghosts—forcing her down a path of hopeless death.
Therefore, Chi Yan wanted to strike first.
But the ghost child would not allow her to succeed. It helped Bai Shuang instead, exposing the flaws in Chi Yan’s attempted identity swap to the others.
For the ghost child, it had indeed returned to the starting point of everything.
Its birthplace.
Here, it could mourn its mother and punish Chi Yan—the impostor who had tried to control it—with death.
In a flash of realization, Yan Shixun pieced together all the causes and effects.
With a decision made in his heart, the fog shrouding the Jing residence lifted completely.
Under Yan Shixun’s lead, the group quickly charged toward Lin Ting’s study on the second floor.
Lu Xingxing, who had been guarding Bai Shuang in the cloakroom, was also dragged along in confusion, stumbling toward Lin Ting’s room. An Nanyuan helped carry Bai Shuang as they sprinted all the way there.
It was only when the door slammed shut behind them with a loud “bang!” and the lock fell into place that everyone finally breathed a temporary sigh of relief.
Seeing that everyone was now relatively safe, Yan Shixun turned back around, facing the entire host of ghosts and monsters in the Jing residence alone, his expression solemn and stern.
He needed to have a talk with the ghost child.
“After all, I’m technically your dad,” Yan Shixun sneered coldly. “And let me tell you, I have a lot of experience raising sons.”
Hadn’t Zhang Wubing grown up quite well under his care?
The child, who had been silently watching Yan Shixun all along, seemed a little surprised.
He tilted his head slightly, blinking his beautiful large eyes in confusion at Yan Shixun.
But Yan Shixun, with a civilized staff in hand, cleared away all the ghosts and monsters on his path, blood and flesh flying, the monsters letting out continuous screams of agony.
His dark and sharp eyebrows showed no fear, as if he were a ruthless person who could slay gods and demons with a single strike.
Even the imagined ghosts were frightened by Yan Shixun’s terrifying aura. They exchanged glances, but dared not move forward.
Thus, the monsters, which were originally bringing death, turned into statues lined up on both sides of the path, staring at him as he briskly walked by, the edges of his clothes fluttering, hesitant but unwilling to make a move.
In this scene, they seemed to be soldiers under Yan Shixun’s command.
Yan Shixun headed straight for the living room’s display cabinet, where he picked up a crystal ornament.
It was the ornament engraved with the words “Commemorative Keepsake from the Graduation of the Foreign Language Department, Binhai University, Women’s Class.”
The heavy ornament in Yan Shixun’s hand swung casually up and down, making the onlookers feel tense and anxious, afraid that if he didn’t catch it properly, it would shatter on the ground.
Even the child, who had been in a cheerful mood, now darkened his expression and looked at Yan Shixun with a hostile gaze.
“Would you like to talk about it? About you, about your mother, Lin Ting?”
Yan Shixun sensed it, but didn’t care.
“Until a hundred years later, this commemorative item was still placed in the Jin family’s living room. It must be something very precious to the mistress, Lin Ting. If I accidentally broke it…”
Yan Shixun pinched one corner of the ornament with his fingers, making it sway as though it might fall at any moment, yet he remained calm and smiled as he continued, “Lin Ting would probably be quite regretful.”
“…”
The air pressure in the living room suddenly dropped, and a cold, eerie atmosphere spread.
“So, let’s talk.”
Yan Shixun leisurely sat down on the sofa, crossing his long legs, dignified and reserved.
Just like the diplomat, Jing Shiwen, who had once sat in the same position a hundred years ago, calmly smiling as he dealt with all the ill-intentioned people.
He rested his cheek on one hand, giving a half-smile, looking at the empty air in front of him, yet it seemed certain that the ghost child was watching him.
“Who told you to give me Jing Bin’s identity? Since you’re Lin Ting’s child, that makes me your father.”
Yan Shixun sneered. “It’s perfectly normal for a father and son to have a conversation.”
“Or… do you want to watch Lin Ting’s beloved things get smashed because of you?”
The ghosts howled and writhed around Yan Shixun, crying in anguish, but because of his imposing presence and the ghost child’s rage, they dared not approach.
Instead, it all seemed somewhat ridiculous.
Yan Shixun patiently waited, but the ghost child didn’t make him wait long.
The air rippled, and black mist spread.
On the ceiling, masses of human-shaped black mist clung to it, staring directly at Yan Shixun.
From the surrounding shadows came the sound of rustling.
Then, the small figure of the child appeared on the sofa directly opposite Yan Shixun.
Holding a ball, the child exuded an eerie and dangerous aura.
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