Chapter 151: No Way Back on This Journey (1)
Zhang Wubing, who had completely fallen into the trap of fanboying, stayed with the crew for several days, receiving personal guidance from Li Xuetang. He was taught on-site how to handle the camera and how to switch between scenes.
For the past few days, he had been as joyful as a mouse that had fallen into a vat of rice, so happy he didn’t know which way was up.
He had the livestream audience in stitches, with many saying Zhang Wubing alone was entertaining enough to carry a whole variety show. There was no need for professional variety show celebrity.
The vvariety show celebrity, upon seeing these comments, got “anxious” on the spot and demanded a live battle with Zhang Wubing. They wanted to see who truly was the favorite child of the variety show gods—there had to be a winner.
The variety show effect reached its peak, and the audience laughed so hard they cried.
Zhang Wubing, completely enamored and unwilling to leave, handed off all responsibilities—such as confirming the next filming location, booking hotels, and arranging the itinerary—to the newly hired assistant director and deputy director.
While the rest of the directing team was spinning in circles with work, he did nothing but follow behind Li Xuetang with sparkling eyes, like a loyal little tail, going wherever he went.
He also added seal-like applause, loud whoops and screams for full effect, and an endless barrage of over-the-top rainbow fawning that never repeated a word.
This made Father Zhang, who had been secretly keeping an eye on his son’s career through the livestream, so angry he was blowing his beard and glaring at the screen. Feeling aggrieved, he went to complain to Mother Zhang, saying even he had never received this kind of treatment.
It was one thing for Mr. Yan to get this kind of fawning, but why should this other man get the same star-struck adoration from their son?
Just because he could make movies?
Mother Zhang shrugged, glanced at the talisman Yan Shixun had given her that now hung around her neck to ward off evil, then turned to look at Zhang Wubing’s room—where movie posters of Li Xuetang covered the walls and piles upon piles of film books sat. She mercilessly dealt Father Zhang a dose of reality.
Of course!
Father Zhang was utterly devastated. When his secretary came looking for him, the man looked so bleak he could’ve been reduced to a pile of abstract scribbles.
The secretary: “?”
The secretary had brought news related to Zhang Wubing’s career—something Father Zhang had specifically asked to be kept informed about.
Although the production team had, so far, achieved the astonishing record of “causing incidents wherever they went,” it was undeniable that after they left each location, they brought with them a significant boost to the local economy.
Even if people didn’t want to admit it, this was the era of traffic and clicks. No matter how good the wine, it would go unnoticed if the alley was too deep.
With good promotion and marketing, even trash could become treasure.
Let alone something that was treasure from the start.
One of Zhang Wubing’s goals in filming the program had been to draw attention to lesser-known tourist spots, thereby indirectly boosting local tourism and improving the economy.
So the locations he chose—whether it was Gui Mountain, Wild Wolf Peak, or Family Tomb Village—all had genuine value.
—As long as you ignored the nightmare-inducing experiences, you’d find the scenery at those spots was actually quite beautiful.
Yan Shixun, unlike other masters who acted with a “cut and dry” approach—save humans, banish ghosts—was far more precise and efficient in his methods.
And with his tremendous strength, all evil spirits were thoroughly eradicated by him.
This meant that the places the program had filmed at, originally flawed like jade with blemishes, were now polished and flawless.
Currently, the show had over 80 million subscribers, and its highest live discussion rate online had reached 300 million—a historical record.
This meant the program had truly become a national sensation.
Grab any random person off the street and ask if they knew about the show “Heart-Pounding Journey of Ninety-Nine Days”—even if they hadn’t watched it, they’d at least heard of it or seen discussions about it online.
—Like the entertainment gossip about Chi Yan raising a ghost child, getting investigated, and her career collapsing.
So, the promotional value the show brought to these locations was top-tier.
After the crew left, all the featured locations—whether it was Gui Mountain on the outskirts of Binhai City, perfect for weekend getaways, or the slowly reviving Wild Wolf Peak, known as having the most beautiful starry skies in the country, or the Jia Village with its mountain of red leaves and laid-back farm stays—saw a massive influx of tourists.
—That’s right, Jia Village was the biggest winner.
The village chief, along with Yang Tu and the others, were now so busy their feet barely touched the ground. With the new income, the village even built a new elementary school, offering free education to all children, boys and girls, from nearby villages.
In the midst of the chaos, Yang Tu often thought of Yan Shixun.
The transformation Yan Shixun brought to his life was nothing short of a complete rebirth. He turned from a pampered child into someone who matured overnight, learning responsibility and gradually taking over the burden from the older generation.
Seeing the thriving changes in Jia Village, everyone there was sincerely grateful to the show’s production team.
They often joined tourists—who had watched the livestream and learned about the dirty secrets of the Yang clan and Family Tomb Village—in cursing out the Yang clan.
Many of the village’s younger people secretly claimed the “Yan Mai” badge on social media and participated in daily check-ins and discussions about Yan Shixun, just like the hardcore fans.
The Yan Mais also noticed that under certain hashtags, a few commenters stood out with completely different styles—offering all-around, unconditional worship of Yan Shixun.
These comments claimed Yan Shixun had saved their entire village, made their lives better, and that if he ever needed anything, they’d offer their lives and blood to repay the debt.
Other Yan Mais who didn’t know who they were: “???”
Whoa, guys, that’s a bit much. Seriously, you’re putting us veteran fans to shame with that kind of enthusiasm.
The boost that the program brought to local tourism and economies was visible to the naked eye.
Because of this, officials from other regions began to take interest.
When they contacted the Binhai City government to inquire about the production team and Yan Shixun, the Binhai officials—already having a great impression of him—sang endless praises of the show.
Even Yang Binsheng publicly stated that if it involved Yan Shixun, he was willing to personally vouch for him and write a recommendation letter.
Officials from other regions were stunned.
They had never seen any program or individual receive such unanimous praise from top to bottom.
One Binhai official happily shared his personal joy with his colleagues from other regions.
“My daughter started volunteering at Wild Wolf Peak because she became a fan of Yan Shixun. Every day, she plants trees and rescues small animals with people her age. Watching her change from someone glued to online drama into someone so full of energy and healthy—I can’t tell you how happy I am.”
While some regions were still deliberating on whether to invite the production team for local promotion, the southern region made the first move, extending an olive branch without hesitation and inviting the team to explore their mountains and rivers.
The production team was thrilled to receive the invitation.
After all, the mountains and rivers of the southern region were so renowned they were even written into textbooks.
But due to transportation issues and other challenges, they could only admire their natural treasures without turning them into a properly functioning tourism industry. It remained a backup travel option for many, and their economy had been struggling for years.
The production team had already considered this region as a potential filming location, so once they received the invitation, the director team quickly discussed and made the decision.
It was settled—the next stop would be the southern region!
The official account of the program team quickly released a teaser.
On top of that, Zhang Wubing, grinning with satisfaction, had picked up some filming techniques from Director Li Xuetang and, in collaboration with officials from the Southern Region, shot a promotional trailer for the teaser.
In just one minute, the trailer featured drone footage soaring through the sky, capturing the stunning landscapes of the Southern Region in full. Verdant greens intertwined with brilliant blues, mountain songs echoed alongside the babbling of streams—it all felt refreshingly invigorating.
Many viewers were immediately captivated and full of praise, saying they were not only looking forward to the next episode, but had also grown curious about the Southern Region and now wanted to travel there.
Some viewers jokingly said, “I originally watched the show thinking it was a horror series, but I’ve only just realized—it’s actually a travel variety show!”
“What? A travel variety show? Isn’t it the shining gem of domestic horror shows? (dog head emoji)”
Other official accounts: …Miscalculation!
The Southern Region simply smiled and said nothing, quietly reaping the benefits and praise.
Their region was located right next to the Xiangnan Region, so they had witnessed the massive shake-up caused by the Yang clan incident in the Family Tomb Village. They had also observed the rise of Jia Village firsthand.
Therefore, they had full confidence in the positive influence the program could bring, and they trusted the production team immensely.
—Especially with the endorsement of Yang Binsheng, the safety officer from Binhai City.
It was quite literally a win-win situation.
Especially considering that there was only one production team, and they couldn’t be everywhere at once—it was best to act fast and claim them first.
However, since the show adopted a live-streaming format and currently had a massive following and attention, the production team chose not to reveal the specific location in the teaser, out of consideration for both viewer anticipation and the safety of the guests.
Other than the production crew, the only ones who knew the exact location were a few Taoist priests from Haiyun Temple.
Zhang Wubing, holding the location details, went to seek out Taoist Ma, hoping the Taoist would perform a divination to see if the upcoming journey would go smoothly.
But just as he stepped into Haiyun Temple, he heard the wailing, ghost-like cries of Lu Xingxing.
“Master, wuwuwu!! I was wrong! Ahh! Please stop hitting me, my butt is going to split open qaq!”
“I’m already over twenty years old—getting my butt smacked like this, isn’t that a bit absurd, Master?!”
“Grandmaster, Martial Uncle, Three Pure Ones above, help me!!”
His whiny pleas and sobbing echoed all the way from the secluded backyard (clearly marked “no entry for tourists”) to the publicly accessible front hall.
Quite a few tourists were covering their mouths, doubled over with laughter.
Even elderly grannies were laughing so hard they cried, shaking their heads repeatedly and saying, “May the blessings of the Boundless Heavenly Lord be upon you. Who would’ve thought the Taoists were so down-to-earth in private!”
Meanwhile, the Taoist in the front hall who was responsible for interpreting fortunes remained completely expressionless, utterly unbothered.
How to put it… This kind of thing had become routine for Xingxing. Getting beaten was basically part of his daily life.
Everyone was used to it.
Zhang Wubing stood there dumbfounded, still not quite recovered even after a young Taoist led him to Master Ma.
“Taoist, is Lu Xingxing really okay? He didn’t actually get beaten too badly, did he?”
Zhang Wubing asked with concern, just as Taoist Ma was about to start divining using the location: “He’s still one of our guests in the next episode. If something really happened to him from the beating, we’d be one guest short!”
The elimination for this round had already been decided based on popularity votes, and the new list of guests had been released.
Unsurprisingly, Yan Shixun remained at the top of the list, followed by An Nanyuan in second place.
—The idol who had cried in fear touched his fans so deeply that they showered him with affection, and consequently, voted with even more intensity.
However, what truly surprised the fans was that the singer who had joined the group with Lu Xingxing last episode ended up eliminated due to low popularity.
Some fans of the singer couldn’t believe it and suspected the program had manipulated the results.
But the data analysts found the outcome entirely expected.
When visiting the set of Binhai Nocturne, although the “God of Song” had also been dragged into the concession zone, he was scared to death. He curled up in one spot and didn’t move at all, making no effort to find a way out.
When An Nanyuan had run past, screaming from his hiding place, he had played dead and hadn’t lifted a finger to help him, unlike Lu Xingxing.
Back at the hotel, when Bai Shuang had been terrified out of her wits, he had stayed silent by her side, not offering a hand like the others.
The God of Song cared more about his own safety than helping others.
He had calculated everything well—what he hadn’t anticipated was that the livestream had still been running during the whole incident.
As a result, he hadn’t appeared on camera at all.
When voting time came, the viewers naturally overlooked him. The votes he received were pitifully few, and if not for his original fan base, the results would’ve been even more embarrassing.
Some of his fans had gotten angry. Under the subtle guidance of the God of Song’s studio, they had attempted to stir up drama in the program’s official comment section. But they were quickly shut down by the program’s 80 million viewers.
Some viewers had even mocked them: “Take a good look at yourselves. When Bai Shuang was scared, everyone else showed concern. Only your precious ‘God of Song’ watched coldly from the sidelines like nothing happened.”
“Nowhere to be found when it comes to saving others, but first in line for stealing the spotlight. Pathetic.”
“Don’t you even know what kind of person your idol really is?”
“Laughable. Brother Yan spent the entire time helping others, and Lu Xingxing too. Neither of them made a fuss about it, but suddenly someone wants to step up and steal the credit?”
“Compare Brother Yan’s attitude—distant and indifferent to his fans—with your God of Song, who milks his fanbase for all it’s worth. Tsk tsk. I won’t say more, otherwise someone will accuse me of dragging others down.”
“Kick them out! Kick them out! This empress can’t stand drama happening before her!”
So, the studio that used to pressure partners into compromise with their fans’ influence ran into a wall this time. The program team wasn’t buying any of it.
The God of Song had thought he would make a triumphant return following an apology from the show, planning to post something afterward about how he didn’t mind such things—carefully curating a gentle, forgiving persona.
To his shock, the grand spectacle he had anticipated never came. The incident barely made a ripple in the program’s operations.
At home, the God of Song’s eyes turned red with anger as he smashed bottles and jars.
“Who the hell is Yan Shixun?! He hasn’t even signed with a company! Why is he outshining me?!”
“And that blind fool Zhang Wubing—does he even realize what I represent?! As expected of a rookie director, totally clueless!”
His assistant stood quietly to the side, not daring to say aloud what was on their mind: that this so-called “God of Song” was nothing but a product of hype, using public pressure and fan tactics to force awards out of judges. If the real God of Song hadn’t retired, would it have ever been his turn?
Thinking of their own salary, the assistant kept their mouth shut.
While the fans continued to cause a fuss about the God of Song’s elimination, the rest of the entertainment circle celebrated.
After all, it meant a vacancy had opened up on the show—an opportunity for others to step in.
Suddenly, many celebrities took to social media, proclaiming themselves devoted fans of the program.
Quite a few went to great lengths to express their deep love for the show, saying they watched every livestream without fail, and subtly hinted at wanting to work with Zhang Wubing.
Zhang Wubing was utterly dumbfounded.
Many of these celebrities had been the very ones he had invited when the program first began filming. Without exception, they had all turned him down.
Even when he had offered to pay them, he’d been harshly rejected.
One had even cursed him out, telling him to take a piss and look at himself in the mirror—how dare some third-rate crew even think about inviting them?
Back then, Zhang Wubing had left his house full of hope, only to be slapped in the face by reality. Dejected, he had gone begging to Brother Yan just to scrape together enough guests so the program wouldn’t die in its cradle.
Now, those same people who had looked down their noses at him were all rushing in with smiling faces.
It was the first time Zhang Wubing—who had always been sheltered by his father and had never judged people by status—truly felt the brutal reality of society.
Looking at those celebrities who had once insulted him now posting cheerful selfies and claiming to admire him, Zhang Wubing couldn’t help but shake his head in amazement.
At the same time, feeling delighted, he wrote a heartfelt thank-you message to Yan Shixun, deeply moved as he expressed that he wouldn’t have achieved any of this without Brother Yan.
When Yan Shixun read it, he got so grossed out he broke out in goosebumps.
He even stopped mid-punch while he was smacking Jing Xiaobao.
With a cold expression, he decisively blocked Zhang Wubing.
Zhang Wubing, who had been preparing to express even deeper gratitude, could only watch in shock as his next message turned into a red exclamation mark.
Zhang Wubing: !!!
So having a second child really meant tossing him aside, huh?!
In the courtyard, Yan Shixun let out a cold snort. Without even looking away from the screen, he raised his hand and precisely grabbed Jing Xiaobao by the scruff of the neck.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Jing Xiaobao had been trying to sneak away while Yan Shixun wasn’t paying attention but froze completely.
Tearfully, he looked up. “I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have scared that brat on the next street…”
Yan Shixun let out a single, low syllable from his throat: “Hm?”
Jing Xiaobao immediately fell silent and changed the way he referred to the kid. “I mean, that little punk.”
“He snatched away the snacks that little brother bought for Xiao Bao.”
Still suspended in the air by Yan Shixun, Jing Xiaobao flailed and protested, squeaking like a rabbit whose ears had just been tugged.
“I wouldn’t have used a ghost to scare him otherwise! Besides, he was the one who pushed another kid into the water last year and let him drown, then told everyone it was the kid’s fault for playing near the water.”
Jing Xiaobao puffed up angrily. “I heard it from the dead kid’s ghost himself! That’s why I wanted to teach him a lesson.”
“That still doesn’t justify you almost killing him.”
Yan Shixun snorted coldly and asked with a stern face, “Do you still not realize that your mistake wasn’t in scaring him—but in not reporting the evidence to the proper authorities and letting them handle it?”
“Also,” Yan Shixun paused, then added, “karma will naturally find its way to him.”
The child he caused to die would become his retribution, eternally burdening his life.
Until the day he died and faced judgment in Fengdu, he would be denied another chance at reincarnation.
And during his lifetime, he would gradually realize that he was an incredibly unlucky person—constantly plagued by “accidental” injuries and often brushing shoulders with death.
By then, he would remember that, as a child, he had taken another life.
Then he would come to understand—it was the one he had wronged, coming back for revenge.
And for the rest of his life, he would live in a haze of suspicion and fear, never knowing peace.
From the very first day Yan Shixun returned to the small courtyard, he had noticed the little boy who came to his door to destroy the flower vines. Just from the boy’s appearance, he had already deduced a life destined for solitude and prison.
So, after catching Jing Xiaobao secretly communicating with the ghost, he didn’t immediately send him away—he merely gave his butt a beating.
“I’ve already informed the official in charge.”
Yan Shixun said, raising his phone. The screen still displayed his conversation with the official contact.
The official had said he would take over the matter.
Jing Xiaobao looked up at Yan Shixun in astonishment, never expecting him to handle things this way.
Yan Shixun raised an eyebrow and said casually, “Why are you so surprised? I also have the Evil Spirit Bone Transformation—and I’ve lived a lot longer than you with it. You think I couldn’t see the karma tied to that kid?”
Jing Xiaobao’s gaze grew complicated. He pressed his lips together and finally squeezed out a sentence: “You’re really different from the others.”
“You’re the only one I’ve ever met who…”
He began, but before he could finish, Ye Li cut him off. He tossed Jing Xiaobao into Old Master Jing’s arms and grabbed Yan Shixun by the arm, turning to walk away with him.
Different? About to say what? Was the next sentence going to be a marriage proposal?
That was his exorcist, already tied to him by karma—no one was taking him away.
Jing Xiaobao pouted in grievance but didn’t dare speak under Ye Li’s dangerous glare.
Yan Shixun: “?”
“What are you doing?”
Ye Li paused mid-step, then said so naturally it raised no suspicion, “It’s dinnertime. Cooking.”
Yan Shixun: …
Something felt off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Meanwhile, longtime fans of the show had the satisfying feeling of vindication.
“This is one of those moments—yesterday you ignored me, today you’re not even good enough for me!”
“Hahaha, poor Xiao Bing must be confused: ‘Mom, Mom, why do they have two faces?!’”
“Pfft, remember who used to shade the show, saying it wouldn’t last? And now they have the nerve to call themselves fans? The audacity!”
Brother Goose chimed in with personal experience: “Facts speak for themselves—everyone who underestimated the show ended up getting slapped in the face. Thankfully, I realized in time. If not for Brother Yan saving my goose life, I’d be so embarrassed I’d need to move to Mars to survive the internet.”
This, of course, sparked another round of collective mockery.
But after a brief moment of reflection, Zhang Wubing quickly put the whole incident behind him.
He was a well-mannered young man. Though a bit naive due to his father’s overprotectiveness, he never held malice toward others.
Not even toward those who had insulted him in the past.
Seeing the person who once mocked him now ridiculed so badly by netizens that they had to close their comment section, Zhang Wubing felt that was punishment enough. There was no need to push it further.
Meanwhile, after sifting through thousands of applications, the production team finally selected the most suitable candidates and sent out invitations for this episode’s shoot.
The guest list was now publicly posted on the program’s official account.
Zhang Wubing wouldn’t dare switch guests last minute. He truly believed that selecting guests was a grueling task—he nearly went blind doing it, even with an assistant director helping him.
They had to weigh not only the personalities of the applicants but also the companies and capital backing each one. They needed well-prepared explanations for those who called inquiring about their applications… dealing with thousands of people was no task for a regular human.
Driven to exhaustion, Zhang Wubing had once burst into tears in front of Yan Shixun like a silly dog.
Even mischievous little Jing Xiaobao, who’d planned to tease him, slipped off his chair and fled the room the moment he saw the towering piles of documents.
Before leaving, he looked at Zhang Wubing with pity and said, “It’s way easier being a ghost than a human.”
Zhang Wubing immediately burst into tears again.
Even a ghost pitied him—boohoo!
At Haiyun Temple, Taoist Ma had cleared his schedule upon hearing Zhang Wubing would be visiting that day. Lifting his head from a stack of paper slips, he smiled at Zhang Wubing’s anxious face.
“Relax. That kid Xingxing is used to getting beaten by now.”
Taoist Ma looked completely unconcerned. “Smart and talented, but refuses to study properly. Ever since he became Taoist Song’s disciple, he’s been disciplined plenty.”
Seeing Zhang Wubing still uneasy, Taoist Ma reassured him, “Taoist Song knows his limits. He won’t cause any real harm. Besides, he’s still recovering from his injuries, so even if he hits hard, it won’t be that bad.”
During the recent trip to the concession zone, Taoist Song Yi not only failed to assist Yan Shixun and the others but ended up getting hurt himself.
Too worried about Lu Xingxing, he unknowingly manifested his thoughts into reality. Caught off guard, he was injured by a manifestation of “Lu Xingxing” formed from ghost energy.
Although Yan Shixun discovered it in time and prevented further harm, and the Taoists from Haiyun Temple came quickly to take him back, ghost energy entering the body had serious consequences for the living.
So Taoist Song had been meditating in isolation to recover, refusing visitors and using this time to properly train Lu Xingxing.
As a result, the temple had echoed with pig-slaughter-like screams for several days straight.
Some incense-offering guests even hesitated at the door and warned the Taoists: “Hey, your temple might be haunted!”
The Taoists: …
Once assured that Lu Xingxing would recover in time to film with the production crew, Zhang Wubing finally relaxed and stopped asking questions.
Taoist Ma made a hand calculation on the spot, divining the outcome.
This episode’s filming location was a famous longevity village in the southern region.
It was said that elders there commonly lived past a hundred years, with happy lives and high well-being.
Many believed the water and environment there contributed to long life, drawing visitors from far and wide.
The village’s most renowned attraction was the river that flowed through it.
According to locals, the river’s source lay deep in the mountains, where chrysanthemums bloomed in vast patches. Fallen petals drifted into the river, and drinking the water made the villagers strong and long-lived.
The southern region saw this as an opportunity to showcase their landscape and hospitality, which was why the shoot was scheduled in the longevity village.
Zhang Wubing held his breath, nervously watching Taoist Ma perform the calculations, terrified the man would suddenly declare “this journey won’t go well.”
Even the slightest frown from Taoist Ma made his heart race.
After staring at the divination result with a furrowed brow for a long time, Taoist Ma finally said, “This hexagram…”
His expression turned odd, as if unsure how to phrase it: “It’s a bit strange.”
Zhang Wubing nearly fainted from holding his breath.
“This—this location was arranged by the southern officials. You’re saying there’s still a problem?”
“That’s exactly what’s strange.”
Taoist Ma shook his head. “The hexagram shows everything will be fine once you set off. But strangely, it contradicts itself.”
“One line says all is well, and the next says nothing is wrong.”
Yaoist Ma mumbled to himself for a while longer, calculating again. After some thought, he asked, “You’re asking whether anything will go wrong during the trip to the longevity village, correct?”
Zhang Wubing nodded.
Yaoist Ma furrowed his brows but gave his answer: “The hexagram says—there won’t be a problem.”
Zhang Wubing breathed a sigh of relief.
Taoist Ma added, “But I’m honestly not that skilled at divination compared to other Taoists of my generation.”
Zhang Wubing sucked in a breath.
Taoist Ma continued, “You could ask Taoist Li or someone else more adept at this.”
Zhang Wubing nodded eagerly.
Taoist Ma said, “But Taoist Li has been meditating for over ten days—we don’t know when he’ll come out. And the other divination expert is currently away helping someone else and isn’t in the temple.”
Zhang Wubing: …
Maybe Zhang Wubing’s face looked too pitiful, because Daoist Ma coughed awkwardly and quickly added, “Why not ask Junior Brother Yan? His divination skills are the best I’ve seen—equal to Taoist Li’s.”
Zhang Wubing was on the verge of tears. “You think I don’t want to? Brother Yan said fortune-telling wasn’t part of our contract. I only hired him to film the show, not to include readings.”
“Besides, Brother Yan said that since Jing Xiaobao is staying at his place now, and they both have the same ‘Evil Spirit Bone Transformation’ feature, their destiny charts overlap in some areas. Because of that, the ghostly aura is clouding the readings, and he can’t clearly predict anything related to his own future.”
Zhang Wubing hesitated for a moment before adding, “But Brother Yan also said that this trip to Longevity Village shouldn’t pose any problems.”
Taoist Ma immediately let out a breath of relief, as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
He nodded excitedly and said, “Then what’s there to worry about? Let’s set off. No problem.”
“Once I inform the official in charge of the results, you all can depart tomorrow.”
Taoist Ma stood up with a smile to see them off.
Amidst the background noise of Lu Xingxing screaming and running wildly around the courtyard, Taoist Ma’s expression remained unchanged as he said calmly, “Safe travels, Director Zhang.”
Zhang Wubing nodded with a bitter expression. “Let’s hope so.”
He sneaked a glance to the side.
And saw Taoist Song Yi with a blank face, yet radiating the kind of burning fury that felt like a fiery aura behind him. Sword in hand, he dashed across rooftops like a martial arts master, “chasing down” Lu Xingxing.
“You can’t even memorize the Sutra of Golden Light Spoken by the Primordial Supreme Celestial Lord, and your recitation of the Chongxu True Scripture sounds like a dog gnawed on it!”
Taoist Song Yi roared, his voice echoing for miles: “Wretched disciple! If I hadn’t taken the time to test you, I wouldn’t have discovered this!”
Lu Xingxing, too, dashed over the tiled roofs of Haiyun Temple, running even faster than a rabbit.
As he fled, he howled to the sky, “I did memorize it, I swear I did, Master! But the moment I try to recall it, my brain starts playing random songs on a loop—I really can’t remember a thing!”
“I swear on the name of the Primordial Supreme Celestial Lord, I wasn’t slacking off!”
“Stop right there!”
“Aaaahhh, Master Uncle, save me!”
…
Tourists coming and going all stared up with wide eyes and gaping mouths at the scene.
Especially when Taoist Song Yi leapt gracefully from a tower over ten meters high and landed lightly on the ground—gasps echoed around them, followed by scattered applause. Some even turned to their companions and asked, “Is this that legendary lightness skill?”
Foreign tourists were indignant: “And you people say you don’t know kung fu! This is exactly like what we see in the movies! I saw it with my own eyes—don’t tell me that was CGI!”
The tour guide nearby looked like he was about to cry, watching Taoist Song Yi move effortlessly across rooftops.
Well, now there was no way to convince anyone that regular folks here didn’t know martial arts.
Yet Taoist Ma remained completely unfazed, as did the other Taoists.
Which only made Zhang Wubing’s look of shock seem overly dramatic in comparison.
Zhang Wubing: “…”
He shakily raised a trembling thumb and swallowed hard. “Truly worthy of being Brother Yan’s joyful hometown—full of hidden masters, crouching tigers and hidden dragons.”
“Master, I am enlightened.”
Taoist Ma: “…?”
Was he scared senseless or something?
…
Even when the program team officially began filming the episode, Zhang Wubing still looked a bit uneasy.
But since Taoist Ma had consulted several times and always said Longevity Village was fine, Zhang Wubing told himself he was just being too paranoid, seeing danger in every shadow.
On the day of filming, the production van went to pick up each guest at their homes. This part of the process would also be livestreamed, giving the guests more space to act freely on camera.
It was actually the variety show celebrity’s idea—this way, it would feel more like a group of friends going on a trip. A lot of variety shows began filming at the guests’ homes.
Zhang Wubing considered it and agreed.
Once the van had picked up everyone except for Yan Shixun, the guests in the car were all smiling and chatting, looking forward to seeing Brother Yan soon.
“It’s been a few days since we saw Brother Yan. I kind of miss him.”
An Nanyuan puffed out his chest proudly. “My brain is full of alpacas right now.”
The variety show celebrity quipped mercilessly, “You look like an alpaca—what’s there to be proud of? I could start spouting nonsense nonstop—want me to give it a go?”
Everyone burst out laughing. The new female guest, who had seemed a little tense, finally relaxed and smiled shyly. She still appeared a bit socially anxious.
The variety show celebrity had noticed her nervousness, so he kept steering the conversation toward her, trying to help her warm up to the group.
After all, she was the only newcomer in the car. The others had already been through thick and thin together—they were close and looked out for one another.
It was understandable that she’d feel out of place.
“I wonder what Brother Yan’s home looks like,” Bai Shuang said with anticipation in her voice. “Will the courtyard be full of coffins and tombstones, and the rooms hung with yellow talismans, garlic, peachwood swords, and compasses?”
An Nanyuan looked horrified. “Good thing you fainted back at the concession area—you’ve got some wild imagination. What do you think Brother Yan is, a vampire?”
Coffins everywhere?!
To protect Yan Shixun’s address, the van drove straight into his courtyard without filming any of the surrounding scenery.
The moment the car door opened—before they could even greet anyone—their smiling faces froze.
On top of the courtyard walls, translucent human figures were sprawled everywhere.
When they heard the noise, they turned their stiff, vacant heads in unison and stared directly at them.
Their eyes were hollow and chilling.
The guests’ scalps instantly went numb.
Viewers watching the livestream: [Holy! Shit!!]
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