Chapter 238: Shadow Puppets and Lamplight (4)
Although Xie Lin seemed like he had a lot to say to Yan Shixun, it was clear that Yan Shixun wasn’t interested in talking to him. After the initial exchange of pleasantries, Yan Shixun lazily leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes to rest, and looked like he could fall asleep at any moment.
Seeing this attitude, Xie Lin naturally understood that Yan Shixun didn’t want to continue the conversation.
He recalled what he had read online before coming—comments about Yan Shixun, complaints from wealthy elites and powerful figures who had been turned away by him. The smile on Xie Lin’s lips turned a bit bitter.
Though he had already prepared himself for the possibility that this Master Yan Shixun might have a bad temper, he hadn’t expected that, upon meeting him in person, the man would turn out to be even younger than he’d imagined—and his temperament even more eccentric and indifferent.
Even the top executives from Yaxing Entertainment had been rebuffed by Yan Shixun—they didn’t even get to hand over an invitation before they left in embarrassment. So how could someone like him, a former celebrity who had long since faded from the public eye, expect to fare any better?
And on top of that, Yan Shixun was backed by the powerful Zhang family…
Xie Lin thought about all the masters he had consulted in the past—anyone with even a little fame always maintained close ties with the wealthy and influential. Let alone someone like Yan Shixun, who had tens of millions of followers. It was only natural for him to act this way.
He gave Yan Shixun a long, meaningful look, then quietly resumed his gentle smile, turned around, and walked toward the back of the guest van. He greeted the others with a friendly and relaxed demeanor.
Lu Xingxing looked like he was about to faint from excitement. “Ahhhhhh!” he kept shouting.
This was the first time Yan Shixun had seen him so worked up. But the sharp noise was so irritating that he frowned. He couldn’t even pretend to sleep anymore.
Tsk. So noisy.
Ye Li had been watching Yan Shixun the whole time and immediately noticed Lu Xingxing’s outburst when he saw Yan Shixun frown.
Just as Ye Li was about to turn and tell Lu Xingxing to quiet down, he heard Yan Shixun lower his voice and ask him, “What did you see in that man?”
Ye Li froze for a moment before lifting his gaze to look at Xie Lin’s back as he walked away. Only then did he truly look at Xie Lin for the first time.
The sins and merits within Xie Lin’s soul were laid bare before the Lord of Fengdu—there was no way to hide anything.
“Xie Lin. Forty-three years old. Orphaned young. No major sins.”
Ye Li gave Xie Lin a quick scan, then turned back to Yan Shixun and asked softly, “What is it? Do you think something’s wrong with him?”
Yan Shixun pondered for a few seconds, then pulled out his phone and began messaging Song Ci to ask about Xie Lin’s background and experiences.
He remembered that Zhang Wubing had told him that Song Ci had strongly recommended Xie Lin. And according to Xie Lin’s fate chart, he was indeed someone destined to meet a noble benefactor—someone who had repeatedly helped him escape death.
Since Xie Lin’s benefactor was supposed to be Song Ci, then Song Ci should know him inside and out.
As Yan Shixun lowered his head, studying his phone intently, even though Ye Li knew he was only investigating Xie Lin out of concern, he still felt a looming sense of crisis—like a precious treasure was about to be taken from him.
Ye Li had once been indifferent to the human world. Even when heaven and earth were in turmoil, even when the Great Dao sought his help, he had turned his back on it all. To him, gain and loss were meaningless.
The human world had completely disappointed him.
But now, things were different. With Yan Shixun in his life, Ye Li had begun to fear losing the exorcist he cherished so much. To have something and lose it—it was a more terrifying hell than never having had it at all.
Ye Li didn’t even want to miss a single glance from Yan Shixun.
But at the same time, he understood—his exorcist was someone with the strength and resolve to uphold the heavens and earth, not a caged bird to be kept in one place.
He loved Yan Shixun, and he also loved that sense of responsibility and resilience in him.
So while Yan Shixun was deeply focused on exchanging messages with the official contact and Song Ci, trying to find out everything he wanted to know, Ye Li sat silently beside him, staring at him intently, his cold expression tinged with a trace of grievance.
As if silently asking: Why won’t you spare a glance for me?
When Lu Xingxing accidentally glanced in their direction, he was so startled by the strange aura between them that he flinched. His eyes widened in shock as he looked at Ye Li.
Am I losing my mind?
He actually thought that terrifying man—his master aunt—looked… kind of wronged?
Ye Li felt someone looking at him and lifted his eyelids slightly, glancing over with a chilling stare.
The icy look was enough to freeze someone on the spot.
Lu Xingxing immediately shrank back like a scolded puppy, withdrawing his gaze in a hurry.
Still, he felt a weird sense of relief, as if reassuring himself, I must’ve imagined it—there’s no way someone like master aunt would ever feel wronged!
Lu Xingxing’s momentary low mood didn’t last long. He quickly rejoined the conversation with Xie Lin.
His outgoing personality was especially infectious at that moment. He chattered away with lively gestures, drawing laughter from everyone in the van and completely livening up the atmosphere.
Even Xie Lin, who had seemed tense at first, slowly relaxed. He visibly eased up, gradually drawn into the lively chatter by Lu Xingxing and the variety show celebrity, as if he had known them all for years rather than being a newcomer.
Though Xie Lin hadn’t set foot in the entertainment industry for many years, this show was meant to warm him up for a comeback. It would’ve been a lie to say he wasn’t nervous.
Especially under the heavy pressure of Yan Shixun’s overwhelming presence.
All of it made Xie Lin instinctively put on a professional front—smiling with poise and grace, exuding elegance, but also carrying a sense of distance and aloofness.
But now, that wall of detachment had been broken down by Lu Xingxing.
Even if Xie Lin hadn’t planned on laughing, he couldn’t help but burst into genuine laughter when he heard Lu Xingxing talk about funny incidents from the past—first raising his eyebrows in surprise, and then laughing heartily.
As for the others, they were already banging on the table, laughing like crazy.
Nan Tian was slapping his thigh while laughing so hard that he doubled over, completely ignoring his celebrity image.
Fans who had never seen this side of Nan Tian were left stunned: [Brother, bro, tone it down a bit! We can see your gums!]
[Where did the Nan Tian with the textbook-level eight-tooth smile and perfect expression control go? Monster! Give me back my old Nan Tian!]
[This isn’t just eight teeth, this is eighty teeth… Bro, I can practically see your stomach—don’t scare the song god!]
But when it came to true excitement, Nan Tian didn’t even come close.
The most intense reactions came from Lu Xingxing and Bai Shuang.
After all, both of them were professional singers in the same field as Xie Lin, so they understood better than anyone just how amazing Xie Lin’s vocal skills and singing had been in the past—close, but still out of reach.
Coincidentally, neither of them relied on idol charm; they were all about letting their music and achievements speak for themselves, letting the audience judge their merits. That’s why they had genuine respect for people with real talent.
Lu Xingxing’s eyes were practically burning as he stared at Xie Lin.
An Nanyuan, speechless, kicked Lu Xingxing lightly and whispered, “Don’t scare him off. He just got here.”
Lu Xingxing blushed, just about to rein himself in, when he saw Xie Lin wave his hand casually and say, “It’s fine. Xingxing has a great personality—I really like it.”
If Lu Xingxing had a tail, it would have been spinning like a helicopter blade right then and there, showing just how thrilled he was.
Lu Xingxing, who already loved being the center of attention, puffed out his chest proudly, his smug expression practically shouting: Did you hear that? My idol just praised me!
Everyone: “…………”
Just as Song Ci finished putting away his luggage and got on the vehicle, he saw Lu Xingxing grinning like an idiot and immediately said with disgust, “Lu Xingxing, your drool’s about to come out. Pull yourself together—are you a dog or what?”
The audience: [Pfft!]
[Only the young master of the Song family dares to say stuff like this, hahaha. If it were anyone else, Xingxing would’ve thrown hands by now.]
Lu Xingxing practically exploded—he couldn’t stand being ridiculed in front of his idol.
But just as he was about to whip around and fire back, he saw Xie Lin smiling and beckoning Song Ci over, motioning for him to sit beside him.
Xie Lin even asked with concern if Song Ci was cold, if he had put his luggage away properly, and other little things.
It didn’t look like a company heir talking to a contracted artist at all—more like an overprotective older brother doting on a spoiled younger brother.
Song Ci grumbled a few half-hearted “mhm”s, eventually rolling his eyes in exasperation and moving to sit beside An Nanyuan instead.
Then An Nanyuan noticed that Xie Lin’s gaze actually followed them and landed on him.
An Nanyuan: “!!!”
He involuntarily shuddered, feeling an instant spike in pressure.
Even though he didn’t idolize Xie Lin as deeply as Lu Xingxing did, Xie Lin was still the legendary figure who rose above all during a golden era of gods—his aura alone was something a newcomer like An Nanyuan, who hadn’t even been in the industry two years, couldn’t compete with.
Just one look from Xie Lin made An Nanyuan straighten his posture reflexively, like a student caught by the class teacher during a surprise inspection.
Song Ci muttered, “…What, you think he’s going to eat you?”
An Nanyuan forced out a stiff smile. “That’s Xie Lin—the song god who launched the golden decade of pop and then personally brought that era to a close.”
Song Ci’s expression remained cold: So what? Big deal?
To everyone else, Xie Lin was a distant, untouchable song god. But to Song Ci, the image that would forever stick in his mind was that young man on the river-crossing bridge all those years ago—eyes full of confusion and despair, a total mess.
Even Song Ci didn’t know everything about Xie Lin’s family situation.
All he knew was that Xie Lin had a younger sister.
Not related by blood.
Xie Lin’s parents had died very early. He was raised in a village, living off meals from various households, without any real goals—just surviving.
But one day, in a field, he found a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes.
Still just a boy himself, Xie Lin clumsily raised that infant, even when he could barely feed himself, still setting aside food for his little sister.
But he knew deep down it couldn’t go on like that.
So, in order to support her, the young Xie Lin left his home and went to the county city to do hard labor.
And there, he encountered the turning point of his life.
When Xie Lin was just a young boy, he worked so hard hauling bricks that both his hands became badly calloused. He was so exhausted that he couldn’t even return home on time to prepare three meals a day for his little sister. Eventually, he took a job as a waiter, and because of his good looks, he was quickly hired by a high-end hotel.
It was there that he crossed paths with a film crew shooting a drama.
The director had initially noticed Xie Lin’s appearance and considered offering him a role as an extra. But Xie Lin was drawn to the character of a passionate musician in the script. After the shoot ended, he secretly tried out one of the prop microphones.
The moment Xie Lin opened his mouth to sing, the entire crew was stunned.
His voice and style were unlike anything anyone had ever heard—distinctly his own, carrying such a strong personal flair that it felt like he could usher in an entirely new musical era.
Even the industry veterans on the crew, who had long grown numb to surprises in the entertainment world, couldn’t help but be moved.
Very soon, Xie Lin was brought back to the capital. A talent scout with a sharp eye for potential discovered him. He released an album that sold out instantly, and overnight, he became a nationwide sensation.
People were amazed and awestruck by him.
As Xie Lin’s fame soared, he became increasingly busy. He no longer had time to be with his sister and had to hire a nanny to look after her.
He was a good older brother, giving his sister all the love and material comfort he could offer.
But he couldn’t be there with her.
One day, when Xie Lin returned home, he discovered that both his sister and the nanny had vanished.
Frantic, he searched everywhere, but all he found was security footage showing his sister and the nanny being taken into a car. A few days later, the nanny’s body was discovered by authorities.
But his sister had completely disappeared without a trace.
From that day on, Xie Lin lost his mind.
He blamed himself again and again, asking why he hadn’t been there for his sister, why he had let her suffer something so horrific.
The psychological burden only grew heavier with time, until it became completely unbearable.
His mental state eventually collapsed. Staring at the peak of his career, he felt nothing but disgust. He believed his career and musical talent were the reasons his sister had suffered.
So, during a concert, he announced his retirement from the industry and devoted himself entirely to searching for his sister.
By the time young Song Ci pulled Xie Lin off the railing of a bridge, Xie Lin had already searched every place where his sister might be, asked every person who might have been able to help him find her—but it was all in vain.
Xie Lin couldn’t endure the daily torment of waiting for news about his sister. It was like living under a blade that never dropped, a suffering worse than death itself.
That was why he broke down and wanted to end everything.
But Song Ci’s slap woke him up.
Now, Song Ci stared quietly at Xie Lin, who was chatting and laughing with the other guests. This refined, mature man no longer showed any trace of the despair he once had.
But Song Ci knew very well—Xie Lin had never truly moved on.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have spent all these years pouring his entire fortune into searching for his sister, or turned to unscientific methods, visiting every so-called master in the country, desperately hoping they could divine her whereabouts.
Xie Lin was simply enduring, clinging to the hope of finally learning whether his sister was dead or alive.
Sometimes, a faint hope was more terrifying than utter despair.
The boy paused, dazed for a moment, then sighed and looked down at his vibrating phone.
It was a message from Yan Shixun.
[Do you know much about Xie Lin?]
Song Ci blinked, the sorrow from earlier completely swept away. He happily replied: [Did Xie Lin come looking for you, Brother Yan? Wow, he’s got great instincts—figured out at a glance that you’re the most powerful one!]
Yan Shixun, reading the reply: “?”
What was that supposed to mean?
But he quickly recalled that earlier, Xie Lin did indeed seem eager to speak with him. His demeanor was earnest, much like those who came to seek his help.
After thinking it over, Yan Shixun sent another message: [I just want to learn more about Xie Lin before making a decision. Do you have anything you can tell me?]
It just so happened that Song Ci had boarded the car a little later than Xie Lin and hadn’t seen the conversation between him and Yan Shixun earlier. Unaware of the context, Song Ci assumed that, like before, Xie Lin wanted a master to calculate his sister’s whereabouts and had now approached Yan Shixun for that reason.
And because Yan Shixun’s guiding words were vague and suggestive, Song Ci didn’t think much of it. He simply and cheerfully told Yan Shixun everything he knew about Xie Lin.
—After all, given how well Yan Shixun knew Song Ci, he understood that this young master wouldn’t casually reveal someone else’s privacy.
Unless Song Ci believed that sharing Xie Lin’s background would actually help him.
Yan Shixun quickly received the full account from Song Ci.
In the end, Song Ci even added: [Xie Lin’s been through a lot. Brother Yan, if you think he’s worth helping, please lend a hand.]
Yan Shixun stared at the message on his phone for a long time without replying.
Sometimes, just because someone looked pitiful on the surface didn’t mean they deserved help.
Years of walking through alleyways and witnessing people’s struggles and schemes—even betrayals and malice between mothers and sons, brothers—had taught Yan Shixun to be cautious before offering help.
There was often much more beneath the surface. Without getting to the bottom of it, he couldn’t make a clear judgment.
After all, karma didn’t make mistakes.
The darkened mark between Xie Lin’s brows and the web of karma wrapped around him made it clear—he wasn’t as harmless as Song Ci believed.
Yan Shixun turned off his phone screen, closed his eyes again, and prepared to take a nap.
But unexpectedly, the driver in front, after hesitating for a long time, finally made up his mind before Zhang Wubing got into the car. He got up from the driver’s seat and walked over.
Sensing someone approaching, Yan Shixun immediately opened his eyes warily, only to meet the driver’s enthusiastic yet slightly embarrassed smile.
“Um, well…”
The driver scratched his ear and hesitated before finally blurting out what he had wanted to say: “Mr. Yan, I wish you happiness.”
After saying it, the driver let out a long breath as if he had completed a very important task, then quickly ran back to his seat.
This left Yan Shixun sitting there, completely puzzled.
Yan Shixun: “…?”
What was that? Why did he suddenly say something like that out of nowhere?
He even pulled out his phone to double-check—today wasn’t New Year’s, nor was it his birthday. There was no reason to be wishing him well.
Even if the driver wanted to thank him for helping on the highway earlier, that was an odd way to put it. And besides, that incident had happened quite a while ago… wasn’t this reaction a bit delayed?
Yan Shixun couldn’t make sense of it no matter how hard he thought and frowned while staring at the driver’s back.
But clearly, just being able to say those words had taken all the courage the driver could muster.
Once he said it, he practically fled, his old face flushed red with embarrassment.
Now, seeing Yan Shixun glancing at him through the rearview mirror, the driver didn’t dare look back at all. He tried to maintain a natural demeanor, pretending nothing had happened, but still couldn’t bring himself to explain what he had meant.
Yan Shixun: What’s with this guy?
Sitting beside him, Ye Li actually understood what the driver meant. However, he didn’t plan on explaining it to Yan Shixun. He just smiled silently.
Back when they were on Nanning Mountain, many of the crew members had stayed behind with the Taoists from Haiyun Temple and the rescue team to recover and register the bodies, hoping to find their families.
At that time, several of the Taoists had mentioned that Yan Shixun was already married, and this news naturally spread to the rescue team and the production crew.
Gossip was human nature. Once a juicy bit of information surfaced, it spread rapidly among the group.
Someone like Yan Shixun—popular with both sides—easily became a focal point. News about him spread quickly by word of mouth among the production staff.
Soon, many of them believed: “Yan Shixun is married, and his lover is his assistant.”
The staff saw nothing wrong with this rumor. In fact, many suddenly felt things made sense and exclaimed in realization.
Production crew member: So Mr. Yan and that assistant were a family all along! No wonder when we picked him up for the shoot, the assistant was living in Mr. Yan’s house.
Production crew member: That’s not all! I saw that assistant fixing Brother Yan’s hair and clothes multiple times. They were really close. I thought they were just good friends back then. Ugh, I was so blind. How did I not see it?
Production crew member: Now it makes sense why Director Zhang seemed jealous of Xiao Bao. Was he afraid Xiao Bao would steal away the affection? After all, Xiao Bao lived with Brother Yan and his assistant—maybe this was like a rivalry between the first and second child?
Production crew member: See? Everything makes sense now! I always thought that assistant’s behavior wasn’t just professional. So this is why!
These kinds of comments circulated among the crew, and soon almost everyone believed the rumor to be true without a doubt.
—After all, it came from the Taoists at Haiyun Temple, where Mr. Yan came from. Surely they knew him better than anyone else. How could they be wrong?
From the moment Yan Shixun arrived at the gathering place today, he had felt that the surrounding staff were looking at him oddly. But there was no malice in their gazes—rather, they seemed overly excited, like they were eager to share some inner emotions with him.
As a proud successor and promoter of Haiyun Temple’s long-standing tradition of five generations of celibacy, Yan Shixun had never even considered romance or marriage. So naturally, he never linked the staff’s reactions to anything like that. He simply assumed they were excited because they would be seeing Xie Lin soon.
The staff could only secretly feel excited, lacking the courage to meet Yan Shixun’s sharp gaze directly.
It was only the driver, who was grateful for Yan Shixun’s life-saving assistance earlier, and happened to be in the car with no one else in front of him, that finally gathered the courage to offer his blessing to Yan Shixun.
This was when Yan Shixun began to sense something was off.
However, he still couldn’t quite understand what the driver was trying to say.
On the other hand, Ye Li, who had noticed the staff’s emotional shift toward Yan Shixun, paid close attention and figured out their real thoughts.
Ye Li observed everything with a keen eye, and his perception of Zhang Wubing improved considerably as a result.
“Shixun, didn’t you say you’d sleep for a bit once you got on the car?”
Ye Li’s mood was excellent, and the warmth in his eyes matched the smile on his face. “You just recovered from your cold, so sleep a little more.”
Yan Shixun looked at Ye Li, doubtful. He had this persistent feeling that Ye Li was hiding something from him.
But no matter how much he scrutinized, Ye Li’s expression remained unchanged, with only a smile that seemed a little deeper than usual.
Yan Shixun: … What’s going on with everyone around me? Did they catch something from Zhang Dabing?
By the time the last guest boarded the car, Zhang Wubing started packing up the equipment and supplies, doing a final check before boarding the guest vehicle. He then solemnly announced to the live stream screen and the guests in the car:
“The filming for this episode is now starting, and our destination this time is the Southwest Region—Baizi Lake!”
Lu Xingxing, giving a seal-worthy applause, said: “Oh oh oh! We’re going to the hometown of Xie Shen!”
Someone beside him asked, “Huh? What?”
Bai Shuang turned around in surprise to look at Xie Lin and asked, “God Xie, is your hometown Baizi Lake?”
Xie Lin paused as though recalling something and said, “Well, it’s not exactly Baizi Lake. My hometown is in the Southwest, but it’s actually quite far from Baizi Lake.”
“No need to be so formal. If you call me that, I’ll feel embarrassed.”
Xie Lin smiled and said, “Just call me Brother Xie or Uncle Xie, it’s fine.”
“After all, at my age, I could be your uncle.”
As he spoke, he winked at Bai Shuang, carrying a playful, youthful vibe.
“But how did you know, Xingxing?” Xie Lin asked, curious.
Lu Xingxing puffed out his chest proudly, saying, “Of course! I did my homework before coming.”
Xie Lin chuckled, his eyes filled with nostalgia, as if seeing his younger self in Lu Xingxing—so spirited and confident.
Yan Shixun didn’t follow his original plan to sleep. Instead, he lazily propped his face up with one hand and turned sideways to observe Xie Lin.
As the convoy set off, Zhang Wubing cheerfully began introducing the destination to everyone.
Originally, Yan Shixun was supposed to take on the role of tour guide, but unfortunately, he was a master of lazily slacking off. If he were to introduce the sights, he would only briefly say, “This is a tree,” “This is a flower,” or “This is a mountain.”
While that wasn’t technically wrong…
It completely missed the point of a tour.
Zhang Wubing, though a bit apprehensive, didn’t want to let the opportunity slip, so he reluctantly took over as the guide. He enthusiastically and thoroughly explained the history of Baizi Lake and the main purpose of the trip.
“Does anyone know about shadow puppetry?”
Zhang Wubing addressed the live stream screen. “Although movies and TV shows are now popular, not many people watch shadow puppetry anymore. But in the past, the best shadow puppeteers were from Baizi Lake.”
“We’re visiting this time to explore this ancient and beautiful cultural heritage.”
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