Chapter 345: The End (4)
As soon as the announcement for the final episode of “Heart-Pounding Journey of Ninety-Nine Days” was released, it sparked an intense wave of discussion.
Originally, viewers had regretfully assumed that the show had been canceled after the earlier attack by criminals in the southwest. Even though they’d left countless tearful pleas for the show to continue on the program’s official account, deep down, they had already given up hope.
But to their surprise, not only did the production team joyfully post a New Year’s special announcement, they also tagged every guest with a social media account, making it clear that this time, everyone would be present—no one would be left out.
This filled the audience with joy, and some were even moved to tears.
“Oh my god! In my lifetime! I never thought this day would come!”
“I used to watch the livestream while eating dinner, and now I realize how much I took it for granted. Ever since the show stopped airing, I haven’t even had a decent show to watch while eating. Sigh.”
“Aaaaaaaah Brother Yan is in it too?! I haven’t seen Brother Yan in forever. I feel like my oat stash is starting to mold from neglect—sob sob.”
“Don’t stop me! I’m spending money on Brother Yan! I’m helping him debut! I want Brother Yan to go commercial! Hahahaha!”
“…How pitiful. Another one’s gone mad. Drag her out, hurry! dog-head.jpg”
“Feels like I haven’t seen my Brother Xing in a while either, which is weird. That’s not his style. His usual self posts eighty updates a day and flames eight hundred singers and producers. That’s more like him.”
“Maybe he’s working on new music? It’s only a week until New Year, and didn’t Xingxing say he’s aiming to win the Golden Melody Award again next year?”
“Rubbing my hands in anticipation! All the people I like are going to be in this livestream. I wish I could sleep for a few days and wake up just in time to watch it!”
“Honestly though, after my house started having weird supernatural incidents, I printed out a picture of Brother Yan and stuck it on the door… and wow!!! It actually worked! I haven’t had a single nightmare since.”
“Man, forget traditional door gods this year—just hang up a picture of Brother Yan.”
“Pfft, no joke, the small goods vendors are better at riding trends than you. I was out shopping for New Year supplies a few days ago and saw spirit money printed with ‘Heaven and Earth Bank, issued by Emperor Yanwu,’ with Brother Yan’s face right on it. And weirdly, it looked totally fitting.”
“Hahahahaha, things are getting strange but oddly make perfect sense. I genuinely think Brother Yan would make a great King of Hell. Or something else supernatural.”
“AAAAHHHH did you girls see the latest post from the production team?! The livestream’s location is Brother Yan’s home! No traveling—just a family gathering format!”
As the final livestream drew nearer, the production team began dropping clues like little Easter eggs—piece by piece—about what to expect.
Which guests would appear, their selfies, the format of the special episode, and even the filming location.
Each small teaser made the audience more excited and curious. The comment section under the official account overflowed with anticipation for the big event.
By now, the show’s account had over a hundred million followers. This mysterious drip-feed approach only made the buzz stronger, turning the final episode into a national-level conversation.
One journalist, while filming a New Year’s street interview, asked passersby whether they were looking forward to the Spring Festival Gala. To her surprise, someone curled their lip and replied: “Why would I watch the Spring Festival Gala when I could watch Heartbeat Live? Are you kidding?”
“Of course I’m watching Brother Yan. Watching him beat up Xingxing is the best part.”
“The Spring Gala? Nah. I’d rather watch Director Zhang run into a ghost.”
The reporter: …So you’d rather spend New Year’s Eve watching a ghost-hunting show?
But many praised the idea as brilliant.
“Wait, you’re right! Why didn’t I think of that? With Brother Yan’s livestream playing at home, no ghost would dare come near.”
“Hahaha, anywhere with Brother Yan is the safest place on earth. I’m saving money on door guardians this year.”
Clips of the reporter’s baffled expression were turned into gifs, paired with captions like “Spring Gala: Where’s your respect?” or “So… you’re really not scared of ghosts?” These quickly became viral reaction images, spreading across social media with good-natured laughter.
The show’s fame expanded even more. The hashtag #WhatToWatchForNewYear trended at the top of search charts, drawing in waves of new discussion.
Binhai TV even lodged a formal complaint to the authorities, angrily claiming that no one would watch their carefully prepared Spring Festival content because of this show, and demanded that Heart-Pounding Journey of Ninety-Nine Days be banned.
But the officials just chuckled and shook their heads.
Ordinary people didn’t realize that they had almost lost the chance to celebrate a peaceful New Year. The joyful crowds and festive streets had been bought with blood and sacrifice. The routine days that many found dull or annoying were built on the lives and efforts of those who had died defending them, pushing forward with everything they had to preserve hope and a future.
If not for Yan Shixun and Ye Li, for Zhang Wubing, for the Taoists at Haiyun Temple, and for all the exorcists and rescue teams who stepped up to help the people… If not for the special departments and the countless government workers…The streets wouldn’t be filled with red lanterns and decorative knots.
The only red would have been blood, staining the ground.
This was a hard-earned New Year—a daily peace that was immeasurably precious.
For those who knew what had happened, even just seeing the sun rise normally each morning felt like the greatest blessing.
The officials knew very well that with such an achievement, whatever the production team and Yan Shixun asked for would definitely be granted. Whether it was wealth, fame, or status… nothing could compare to the merit of saving countless lives.
But when the authorities asked Yan Shixun what he wanted, he only responded casually, as if everything he had done wasn’t even worth mentioning.
“If I must be compensated, then what I want is simply peace and justice on this land every day, and happiness for everyone.”
At that moment, Yan Shixun had one hand in his pocket, lazily waved his hand, and turned to leave the office.
“I’m just an ordinary person, no different from anyone else. I’m just one of billions of lives. I happened to encounter something a little out of the ordinary and simply acted on instinct.”
“That’s all.”
With the matter resolved, he brushed his sleeves and walked away, hiding his merit and fame deep within.
An official representative from the television station had also been present at the scene.
He stared blankly at Yan Shixun’s departing figure for a long time, unable to snap out of it. When he finally blinked again, he realized his eyes had already filled with tears.
The truly virtuous have no self; the divine need no name.
But while Yan Shixun believed what he did was ordinary, others simply could not treat it as such.
“You want ratings? Want viewers? Then put in more effort. Go find out what audiences actually enjoy, complaining to our department—well, that’s not what we specialize in.”
The official smiled as he said to the TV station, “The audience likes it—that’s the people’s choice. I’m in no position to criticize. But some people, aren’t they being a bit too arrogant?”
The show progressed smoothly. Even though many were envious of its popularity and attention, no one could shake its place.
When Father Zhang learned someone intended to sabotage the show, he stormed around his office in fury, ranting that whoever dared mess with his son must be dreaming!
The secretary gently reminded him—it wasn’t about harming Zhang Wubing, but rather going after the show he was part of.
—And it was the kind of show that was already about to end soon.
Father Zhang snorted coldly, but love for his son extended to everything related to him: “The show is my son too!”
Secretary: …That’s not what you said before. Didn’t you swear you’d never let the young master become a director?
Due to his current physical condition, Zhang Wubing could no longer run around on location. He needed a long period of rest to allow his soul to fully reconnect with his body.
And after what had happened, Father Zhang finally relented and agreed to let Zhang Wubing pursue his dream of becoming a director.
“Keeping him cooped up at home for a few days is harder for him than killing him.”
Father Zhang grumbled, “What, am I supposed to keep him locked up for the rest of his life?”
The secretary chuckled and immediately issued a warning, in the name of the Zhang family, to all companies thinking of targeting the show—asking if they were out of their minds trying to attack the dream of the Zhang family’s young master.
When the Taoists at Haiyun Temple heard someone was trying to sabotage the show, they, being amateurs in the entertainment world, didn’t understand the difference between harming the show and harming Yan Shixun, so they became furious and came straight to confront them.
“You think you can bully Junior Brother Yan just because he has no backing? His master may be gone, but he still has the entire temple as his family!”
The CEO of Yaxing Entertainment, who used to love inviting Taoists to adjust his feng shui, also got the cold shoulder at Haiyun Temple.
When he heard what was going on, he furiously ordered his company to stay far away from Yan Shixun—he was not someone they could afford to provoke. Were they tired of living or something?
With so many forces protecting it, the show went on without a hitch.
The members of the director team also knew this would be their final time working together, so they poured extra care into it. They even filmed vlogs of the cast as a little bonus, posting them on the show’s social media accounts.
Fans went absolutely wild with excitement.
The vlog content showed the guests preparing for the final live broadcast.
But instead of polishing their image or shopping for clothes, they were doing the most down-to-earth, everyday things—shopping for New Year’s goods.
They strolled from one end of the street to the other, arguing endlessly over which kind of window decal or “blessing” character to buy, standing before the freezer overwhelmed by chickens, ducks, and fish, counting out what dishes to serve for the reunion dinner, and bickering over who should cook.
Their noisy, cheerful chatter was just like a real group of close friends or family.
The money for the dinner was provided by the production team and distributed equally to each guest, with the rule that everyone had to stay within the budget for food and New Year’s goods. Anyone who overspent would lose the game, and during the dinner, they’d have to perform a talent in public and be publicly declared the loser on the program’s social media account.
This instantly ignited the guests’ competitive spirits. Everyone threw themselves into the shopping battle with full enthusiasm—comparing prices from stall to stall, bargaining fiercely, refusing to budge even a single coin.
The audience watching couldn’t stop laughing.
But as the camera panned over to Yan Shixun’s side, the scene took on a noticeably different tone.
Yan Shixun and Ye Li were already widely acknowledged by everyone as a bonded pair. They were shopping for New Year’s goods together, and the audience all knew they were a couple. The bullet comments and online chatter were filled with excitement and blessings for them.
Some fans had been indignant before seeing Ye Li, wondering how Brother Yan could possibly be taken by someone else.
But once they saw Ye Li: …Sorry for disturbing. They were just too perfect together!
Yan Shixun still showed no interest in the livestream. He lazily strolled in front of the vendors with one hand in his pocket, glancing over at the red, festive decorative “blessing” characters meant to bring good luck.
To match the holiday theme, Zhang Wubing had especially pulled Yan Shixun to get a custom-made coat. The burgundy fabric accentuated Yan Shixun’s tall and elegant frame. Under the black shirt, his muscles looked firm and well-defined, radiating an extreme sense of powerful beauty. Just standing there, he was a perfect sight.
Ye Li was initially delighted watching his exorcist. Some thoughts that belonged only to nighttime began to stir. But once he realized how dazzling his exorcist looked—drawing in many wandering eyes—his face instantly darkened. He felt like a precious treasure was being stolen away.
“Why are you just standing there?”
Noticing that the person beside him hadn’t kept up, Yan Shixun stopped in place and turned back with a puzzled expression.
With a single glance, he understood everything.
“…You’re jealous over this too?”
Yan Shixun was speechless. “You weren’t a general in your past life—you were clearly a vinegar seller, weren’t you?”
He walked over, reached out, and grabbed Ye Li by the arm, pulling his lover toward him.
Ye Li’s eyes were tinged with a smile. The panic he’d just felt about losing something precious vanished without a trace.
His exorcist was dazzling beyond words, like the sun and moon. Anyone who saw Shixun would be involuntarily drawn to him—that was his natural charm, something irresistible.
But this priceless treasure had ultimately landed in his arms. It was the soul he cherished most deeply.
Fortunately, he and his lover shared a bond that resonated down to their very souls.
When Ye Li held Yan Shixun’s slightly cool, soft hand and gently rubbed the calluses that had formed over years of sword practice, a profound sense of comfort and peace settled in his heart.
To him, the entire human world existed right here, by his side, walking along with him.
Ye Li chuckled softly. His sharp brows and eyes now radiated only warmth.
Hearing the sound, Yan Shixun turned his head and, catching Ye Li’s smile, was infected by it too. He smiled and asked, “Did you see something funny?”
Ye Li shook his head, then nodded again. His eyes couldn’t hide their affection. “Nothing in the world is as interesting as my lover, not even by a ten-thousandth.”
Yan Shixun hadn’t expected that kind of answer. Caught completely off guard, he opened his mouth but couldn’t get a word out. He just gave a light cough and turned his head away, pretending to be distracted by the red lanterns hanging on the roadside.
Meanwhile, viewers watching the vlog were like: [……….WTF!]
[This man is sinfully good at flirting. I finally understand why Brother Yan is with him. Even if he were just a statue, that face alone would be convincing enough—but he’s so skilled on top of that!]
[Ugh! So this is how Brother Yan got stolen away?!]
[Who’s feeding me dog food again! That’s enough—please stop!]
[I feel like that poor dog suddenly yanked into the mess… Stop torturing the singles!]
[Conflicted feelings. Only after seeing Brother Yan with his assistant did I understand what “a perfect match” and “made for each other” really mean. Do people this compatible actually exist? I think I’m starting to believe in love again.]
[Wahhh, why can’t I stop taking screenshots like crazy?!]
Ye Li had an exceptionally handsome face. Combined with the powerful aura he had cultivated from holding high status for years, his looks exuded a dangerously captivating charm.
He still wore his usual long black coat. His ink-black hair draped casually over his shoulders. The fluttering hem of his coat as he walked gave him an imposing presence. The mysterious dark markings winding near his temples made him appear even more dignified and enigmatic.
Due to his identity as a ghost deity, Ye Li had once erased his appearance from human eyes to avoid creating karmic entanglements from being seen.
But now that he had become one with the Great Dao, that restriction had lifted naturally.
Others could now see him, but they would forget him the moment they looked away—thus erasing karma through forgetfulness.
As Ye Li and Yan Shixun walked down the street hand in hand, passersby couldn’t help but be drawn to them.
Occasionally, someone recognized Yan Shixun and let out a small gasp of surprise. But his powerful aura made people wary of approaching. Even fans who walked by refrained from disturbing him, knowing he disliked fame and attention.
Their task wasn’t to shop for ingredients but rather to pick out decorations for setting the festive New Year atmosphere at home.
After all, it was Yan Shixun who would be cooking, and since Ye Li’s cooking was—frankly—atrocious, the rest of the group had scrambled to snatch up the ingredient-buying duties, refusing to leave even the purchase of a single green onion to the two of them.
Ye Li’s cooking left a lasting impression—but not in a good way.
When the special shoot theme was first decided, the guests had all waved their hands and declared they couldn’t cook.
Yan Shixun hadn’t insisted. He simply said he or Ye Li would take care of it.
At first, the guests had all nodded in agreement. But Song Ci happened to notice Jing Xiaobao looking at them with deep admiration when he overheard that conversation.
It was like he was gazing at a group of warriors about to march to their doom.
Song Ci grew suspicious. Just to be safe, he directly asked Yan Shixun if they could sample the food first.
After all, it was a livestream. If something went wrong with the food, it was better to find out early and fix it.
All the guests had visited Southwest Baizhi Lake together, so they knew about Ye Li’s identity as the Lord of Fengdu. Even the usually temperamental young master phrased his question with extra care and tact.
Ye Li hadn’t taken it seriously and casually whipped up a few dishes on the spot.
And then…
The young master, who had just been discharged from the hospital, ended up back in the hospital again.
Jing Xiaobao, who had witnessed everything, looked at Song Ci with sympathy in his eyes.
The other guests were equally shocked.
The young master was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. From a young age, he had only eaten the finest and most exquisite delicacies, having tasted the best cuisines from around the world. He knew exactly which dish was better than the next. Yet, he never expected that he would one day suffer such a culinary disaster.
—He truly believed that he had just eaten the worst-tasting thing in the entire world.
The other guests who had tried Ye Li’s food didn’t fare much better. Their faces turned pale as they either chugged drinks in an attempt to suppress the bizarre, indescribable flavor or popped digestive tablets, wishing the food would vanish from their stomachs immediately.
The young master looked at Yan Shixun, his expression impossible to describe, and said, “I always believed there was a limit to how bad food could taste. But today, I realized… there’s no lower limit.”
Everyone chimed in quickly, saying they wouldn’t dare trouble Ye Li again. As for cooking, they’d better handle it themselves.
However, among the guests, there were people like Song Ci—who could eat but not cook—or people like An Nanyuan—who was too busy to even eat properly, let alone cook.
After everyone had taken their turn at the stove, only two people could actually cook.
One was Zhao Zhen.
The other was the variety show celebrity.
So, in the end, the task of buying the main ingredients was handed to them as well.
When Yan Shixun saw the bright red candied hawthorn skewers on the street, he couldn’t help but recall the so-called Binhai specialty “braised pork” that Ye Li had cooked.
—If that lump of charcoal could even be called pork.
He burst into laughter, shaking his head gently. He had to admit: there really were people who were naturally terrible at cooking.
Perhaps this was the one and only skill the all-powerful ghost deity could never master.
“Shixun, do you want some candied hawthorns?”
Ye Li had noticed where Yan Shixun was looking and, without waiting for a reply, began pulling him toward the vendor’s stall.
Yan Shixun was surprised, then chuckled and tried to stop him. “No, I was just…”
“I remember, the first time I saw you at the market, you were only nine years old. Your clothes were clean but worn.”
Ye Li said softly, as if afraid to disturb something delicate: “I always wondered—after you saved so many lives and preserved so many children’s childhoods, why did you never get to have a happy childhood of your own?”
“Shixun, it’s not fair. The karmic balance owes you.”
Yan Shixun froze for a moment, then simply smiled and said, “I don’t need any of that. By giving up playtime and growing up faster, I gained the power to protect myself and others.”
Compared to the rest of the world, what did his own childhood matter?
He had studied tirelessly day and night, squeezing every second to absorb knowledge. With strict discipline, he had grown quickly. It was far better than panicking helplessly in the face of danger.
Ye Li pulled Yan Shixun in front of him, quietly watching his beloved speak about his sharply divided childhood—the first half, bullied and excluded by peers; the second half, feared by them.
But no matter how others treated him, Yan Shixun didn’t care.
He knew exactly what he wanted. The Great Dao hung high in the sky. He saw only the vast heavens and earth—never the narrow, base malice below.
The winter sunlight wasn’t harsh. It diffused gently across Yan Shixun’s handsome face, filling his eyes and brows with a soft radiance. It was so breathtakingly beautiful that Ye Li found himself holding his breath in awe.
No matter how many times he looked at Yan Shixun, Ye Li was always struck anew by his beauty, overwhelmed by the boundless love flowing in his heart.
His beloved loved this world—and so Ye Li, for the sake of that love, loved it too.
Ye Li smiled and tightened his grip on Yan Shixun’s hand, speaking gently, “Then let me make up for the childhood you missed. Shixun, when you’re with me, you can relax at any time. The world you’ve held up on your shoulders—let me carry it with you.”
Under Yan Shixun’s surprised gaze, Ye Li handed him a round, adorable skewer of candied hawthorn, then stuffed a beautifully crafted palace lantern—a favorite toy of children—into his arms.
Yan Shixun’s hands were suddenly full of snacks and colorful trinkets. He looked at Ye Li, torn between laughter and tears, but didn’t reject the gesture. Instead, he truly felt like a child again, strolling through the bustling festive shopping street.
With their striking looks, it was inevitable that they would attract attention wherever they went.
And just as the two walked past the street corner, the man in sunglasses sitting behind a fortune-telling booth took notice of them.
“I see dark shadows on your foreheads, you’re in for a bloody misfortune. You won’t even get to enjoy the holidays.”
Yan Shixun was walking when a mysteriously dramatic voice suddenly called out from the side.
He was momentarily surprised, then turned to look—and saw a rather elaborately decorated fortune-telling booth.
The fortune-teller straightened his back deliberately, waving at Yan Shixun. “Don’t you two want to have a peaceful New Year? Are you really going to let disaster strike without doing anything?”
Yan Shixun was deeply intrigued.
Ever since Li Chengyun had brought him into this line of work, it had been nearly twenty years—and this was the first time a fortune-teller had ever tried to call him out.
He was so incredulous that he glanced to both sides, wanting to make sure the fortune-teller was really talking to him.
The fortune-teller, meanwhile, was inwardly pleased. He thought his trick had worked. After all, who could stay calm after being told they were about to face calamity?
He pointed at Yan Shixun and Ye Li and said, “Yes, I mean you, little brother. Don’t bother looking around.”
Yan Shixun: “…?”
The audience watching the livestream practically died laughing: [Oh my god! This uncle is so brave—he actually said Brother Yan has a bloody disaster coming? Maybe what you’re really predicting is that the ghosts who meet Brother Yan are the ones in for it!]
[Damn, this is a case of a con artist running into a real con artist.]
[Hahahahahaha, has this fortune-teller ever considered that he might have just encountered an actual master?]
[This guy must be out of his mind, daring to mess with Brother Yan? I admire his courage.]
[Pfft hahaha, I wonder what kind of face he’ll make when he finds out who Brother Yan really is?]
Yan Shixun exchanged a surprised glance with Ye Li, and then both of them broke into smiles.
Ye Li also found this experience particularly novel.
As the Lord of Fengdu, a ghost deity who ruled over death and judgment, no person—mortal or spirit—had ever told him that he was fated for a “disaster of bloodshed.”
This fortune-teller had, quite literally, made history.
Ye Li wasn’t particularly interested and turned to continue walking, but Yan Shixun stroked his chin, looking intrigued. He walked over and sat down in front of the fortune-telling stall.
“Disaster of bloodshed?”
Yan Shixun raised an eyebrow and put on a look of surprise and fear. “Then what should I do?”
The fortune-teller, satisfied, stroked his beard. Despite the cold, wintry wind, he unfolded his fan with great flair and began fanning himself like a true sage.
“Young man, don’t rush. Let me take a look at your fate chart first.”
He asked, “Tell me your birth date and time. I’ll help you turn misfortune into blessings and climb higher in life step by step.”
But Yan Shixun let out a doubtful “Hmm,” and asked with a puzzled look, “But I heard that real masters don’t need birth dates. They can tell your past and future just by reading your face. Can’t you do that?”
The fortune-teller: “……”
“Of course I can.”
He nearly coughed up blood but forced himself to respond through gritted teeth, “I was just trying to be more precise! I was thinking of your best interest, young man.”
But when Yan Shixun remained unmoved, the fortune-teller had no choice but to bite the bullet.
“Uh, let’s take a look at your life.”
The fortune-teller wracked his brain, straining to make things up. “When you were young, your parents were strict with you, but, uh, they loved you very much. You grew up in such a household and went through a rebellious phase in your youth…”
He kept racking his brains, trying to guess some truths about Yan Shixun from his appearance and demeanor.
After all, Yan Shixun appeared well-cultivated, neat, and handsome. His fit physique hinted at a disciplined lifestyle. People like that usually came from stable homes.
What he didn’t know, though, was that the one who treated Yan Shixun well wasn’t his parents—it was his master, Li Chengyun.
So, from the very first sentence, the fortune-teller had already slipped up.
The audience watching the stream was already laughing uncontrollably.
Meanwhile, Yan Shixun kept nodding from time to time, acting like the fortune-teller was spot on.
At the end, he even showed a concerned expression and asked, “Master, what exactly is this disaster of bloodshed you mentioned? What should I do? Is it dangerous?”
The fortune-teller tossed his head proudly and declared, “Don’t worry! Ask around this entire street—who hasn’t heard of me, Immortal Lu? Even if the King of Hell himself came to take you away, he’d have to go through me first! Don’t be scared, young man.”
Yan Shixun: I’m not scared. I’m just curious—forget Zhang Wubing, but can you really beat Xiaobao?
Bullet comments: [Damn! He just said something I wouldn’t even dare say in my lifetime—he told Brother Yan not to be scared!!]
[Bro, how did he even come to the conclusion that Brother Yan would be scared? If a ghost popped up right now, I bet he’d be the one screaming.]
The fortune-teller hadn’t gotten Yan Shixun’s birth info, and although he felt a bit uneasy about that, seeing Yan Shixun nod along to everything he said gave him renewed confidence. He looked smug as he patted his compass and continued.
“Young man, from your facial features, I can tell your luck is weak. Have there been any strange occurrences at home recently?”
He added with concern, “You’ve run into a ghost! If you don’t exorcise this evil spirit soon, your life could be in danger!”
Yan Shixun: Strange occurrences? It would be strange if there weren’t. Two undead wolves, the Lord of Fengdu, the current King of Hell, his collection of favorite ghost toys, and an ex-King of Hell moving in soon… Honestly, I’m the only living human in that place.
“Life in danger, huh…”
Yan Shixun tilted his head slightly and glanced meaningfully at Ye Li. They both smiled knowingly.
In all the thousands and tens of thousands of years, no one had ever told a being of the Great Dao that he was at risk of dying. This really was a first.
Raising an eyebrow, Yan Shixun smiled and asked, “So Master, how do you think I should resolve this?”
The fortune-teller replied, “Don’t worry! Just buy this jade pendant I’ve blessed with spiritual power, along with two ghost-expelling talismans, a protective Pixiu statue for your home, and this eight trigrams mirror to hang above your door. No matter how powerful the ghost, it won’t come near you.”
He pounded his chest with confidence. “If ghosts still come to you after that, you come find me!”
He continued earnestly, “It’s almost New Year’s, and it must be fate that we met. I want to help you, young man. Money is just worldly possession—it doesn’t matter.”
With a generous wave of his hand, he offered, “Alright then, the jade pendant is just 8,888—auspicious and lucky. Two talismans come to 10,000. The Pixiu statue is only 66,666. And the eight trigrams mirror? Just 10,000. How would you like to pay, young man?”
Meanwhile, offscreen, the audience had already lost it:
[Are you sure, bro? Because if a ghost really comes after Brother Yan, I don’t think you’ll be able to handle it.]
[Bro! You’re just a scammer, don’t bet your life against Brother Yan’s. Hahahaha, aren’t you just asking for trouble by saying “if a ghost finds you, come to me”? The Taoists from Haiyun Temple send all the ghosts to Brother Yan—who gave you this confidence?]
[Shocking! So when I accidentally ran into Brother Yan and he doodled a symbol on my math notes, that thing was worth so much? Mom, I’m rich!]
[I’m so jealous you got a charm from Brother Yan. Why didn’t I get one? I’m going to cry!!]
[This might be this guy’s peak moment in life. He actually bragged in front of Brother Yan and lived to tell the tale. Tsk tsk, a true warrior!]
[LMAO, someone actually dared to take on karma from Brother Yan? This guy’s really had enough of life!]
The fortune-teller, oblivious to the crowd’s tears of laughter, still waited for Yan Shixun to be terrified enough to hand over money.
But instead, Yan Shixun smiled softly. He rested his chin on one hand and looked at the fortune-teller with a pleasant smile. “Since you’re done talking, let me speak now.”
His gaze lingered on the fortune-teller’s face for a moment—and he understood everything.
The past, the present, the future—he saw them all as clearly as if they were written on a page.
All past karma and sins, all future rewards and disputes, were laid bare before his eyes.
Yan Shixun smiled with a calm indifference.
The fortune-teller, however, suddenly felt something had gone terribly wrong. A creeping dread pressed down on him so heavily that he couldn’t breathe. Despite the freezing cold, sweat beaded on his forehead.
He quickly reached for a handkerchief to wipe his sweat and laughed awkwardly, trying to break the suffocating tension. “Young man, are you feeling the price is a bit high? We can negotiate, really…”
“Lu Yi, born in 1987. Your parents died in a car accident when you were three. You were taken in by your uncle, Lu Ying. At nine, you started performing and fortune-telling with your uncle under a street stall. You changed your name during that time…”
Yan Shixun’s calm voice cut him off.
At first, the fortune-teller was confused and angry, ready to question why Yan Shixun had investigated him. But as Yan Shixun listed more and more details about his life—even the time he put bugs in a girl’s backpack in elementary school—cold sweat poured down his back, and he realized something was very wrong.
This… this wasn’t the kind of thing you could find out through an investigation. Not even fortune-telling could get this precise.
Just who—no, what—was this man sitting in front of him?
The fortune teller felt as if, in a daze, the entire heavens and earth were pressing down on him. He was so insignificant, unable to resist, even less able to argue—he could only acknowledge all the good and evil he had done in his life, helplessly awaiting the judgment of the ghosts, gods, and the Dao.
“As for your future,”
Yan Shixun smiled lightly and blinked. “The secrets of heaven must not be revealed.”
“I’ve finished speaking now—how much do you plan to pay me for the reading? And how will you pay?”
Yan Shixun sat leisurely on the stool, watching the fortune teller’s clothes quickly soak with sweat. The man looked panicked, wanting to flee but too terrified to move his feet. Yan nodded slightly to himself and decided to let the matter go.
He had seen that although the fortune teller ran a fraudulent stall, most of the money he earned went to supporting orphans’ education. The man even had principles—he only tricked pocket money out of the wealthy and never took a desperate person’s last hope.
So, even though the man had accumulated some karmic residue, it wasn’t serious. A gentle warning was enough.
Yan Shixun had no intention of pursuing it further.
He was just about to speak when he suddenly felt something soft and cool press against him—it felt like a handful of peaches.
…Accompanied by the crunching sound of chewing: ka-cha, ka-cha.
Yan Shixun: “…”
When did this child return from the underworld? Shouldn’t he be working overtime in hell for the New Year?—Or to put it plainly, running wild down there?
He turned his head speechlessly and, as expected, saw Jing Xiaobao standing beside him. The child had pressed his soft cheek against Yan’s arm, wide eyes curiously fixed on the fortune-telling stall.
In Jing Xiaobao’s hand was a jade pendant.
He was chewing on it.
The crunching noise was coming from him.
Yan Shixun: “…What are you doing?”
Jing Xiaobao blinked, entirely unaware of anything wrong. Cradling his face, he said in his usual soft, squishy tone, “Aren’t you exorcising ghosts? I heard someone say these things ward off evil spirits, so I wanted to try.”
As he spoke, he took another bite of the jade pendant, then frowned, looking aggrieved. “But it doesn’t seem to work?”
Yan Shixun: “……”
“Spit it out.”
Yan Shixun smacked Jing Xiaobao on the head, exasperated. “Normal people don’t add this to their diet.”
Jing Xiaobao: “Eh? QAQ?”
Yan Shixun extended a hand, and Jing Xiaobao, not daring to disobey, obediently handed over the fake, poorly-dyed jade pendant that had gone from pendant to ring under his teeth.
The fortune teller stared at the scene, still reeling from the shock of Yan Shixun having just laid bare his entire life’s story. Now, seeing this child gnawing on jade, he was struck dumb again.
“Wh-what is that?”
The fortune teller pointed at Jing Xiaobao, his hand trembling as he asked, nearly crying, “Is that even human?”
Jing Xiaobao pouted unhappily. He thought this man was being contradictory. Just a moment ago, the guy had been talking about him non-stop, but now that he’d come all this way to meet him, the man didn’t even say a word.
The human world was truly strange.
Yan Shixun gave the unlucky man a sympathetic glance. “…Can’t help you.”
After all, the man had brought this on himself by invoking the King of Hell. Now that karma had arrived, he’d have to deal with it.
Still, although the scene wasn’t as joyful as fans meeting their idol, Jing Xiaobao was easily satisfied.
Looking around at the lively New Year’s atmosphere, he got excited and clapped his hands gleefully, his eyes sparkling.
But what really caught his attention was still that fortune-telling stall.
He had heard it all—this man claimed that everything on the stall could exorcise ghosts.
This made Jing Xiaobao curious. He wanted to see how effective these things really were. Could they even work on someone like him?
Too short to reach, he stood on tiptoe, clinging to Yan Shixun’s arm while trying to grab the so-called ghost-expelling talismans and tools from the table.
But no matter how he touched them, none of the items exploded. They all remained perfectly intact.
Seeing this, Jing Xiaobao’s cheeks puffed up in displeasure.
“Weren’t they supposed to drive ghosts away? Then why am I still here?”
Pouting like a little pufferfish, he grumbled, “Liar!”
The fortune teller was so nervous his legs shook. If he weren’t sitting, he would’ve already collapsed to the ground.
He didn’t know Jing Xiaobao’s true identity, but he could sense the terrifying aura pouring off of him.
—The ghostly energy of the King of Hell was far beyond what any ordinary person could endure.
And since the fortune teller had claimed to be very powerful, Jing Xiaobao had taken him seriously and hadn’t restrained himself at all, which meant the pressure this man felt was far greater than what others had experienced when facing Jing Xiaobao.
Eyes brimming with tears and shaking like a leaf, the fortune teller finally remembered that everything strange had started the moment he struck up a conversation with Yan Shixun. Clearly, the root of all this was Yan Shixun. He immediately lunged forward, trying to grab onto him.
Now he realized it—he had messed with a true master! If he didn’t handle this properly, he might not even survive the day.
But Yan Shixun had no intention of harming him and disliked people getting too close. He easily shifted his weight, smoothly stepping backward to dodge.
In just a few seconds, he had already put some distance between himself and the fortune teller.
The man missed his target completely. His plea for mercy stuck in his throat as he dumbly stared at Yan Shixun, baffled—did this guy just teleport? How did he move so far, so fast?
Yan Shixun, holding the still-curious Jing Xiaobao by the straps of his tiny suit, lazily waved a hand at the fortune teller and smiled. “It’s almost New Year. Go home and spend time with your grandma. Don’t run this stall anymore.”
He glanced down at the table and added, “An old woman’s time is far more valuable than these mass-produced trinkets.”
Yan Shixun gently picked up the items and set them back down just as softly. Aside from a few words of advice and the half-chewed fake jade pendant, he left nothing behind.
Yet the fortune teller stood there frozen for a long time before finally understanding what Yan Shixun meant. With trembling hands, he dialed the number of his elderly grandmother.
Listening to the ringing, his heart raced so hard he could barely breathe.
It wasn’t a long wait, but to him, it felt like an eternity. Only the familiar voice of his grandmother could calm his panic.
If he missed her final moments because he hadn’t gone home to visit, he would never forgive himself.
That man even knew about how he wet the bed as a kid—he had to be a reclusive master of some kind. Since he mentioned his grandmother, then maybe… just maybe…
“Hello? Grandson?”
The familiar, aged voice came through on the other end of the line.
The fortune teller froze for a moment, then finally collapsed to the ground, completely forgetting his image as a wise man. He burst into loud sobs, “Grandma, I miss you. I’m coming home for New Year, okay…”
Yan Shixun had already walked far away, but when he heard the crying voice carried by the wind, a smile flickered in his eyes.
He paused for a moment, then resumed walking, heading toward a shop selling window decorations.
Jing Xiaobao dangled from his arm by the back straps of his little suit, swinging back and forth like he was riding a human airplane. The motion had him giggling and squinting in joy.
But his curiosity still got the better of him. Tilting his head, he asked, “Yan Yan, that guy seemed like a scammer. Why did you let him off?”
“He didn’t commit any great evil, so why should I interfere?”
Yan Shixun’s attention was fully caught by the colorful window flowers in front of him. He answered Jing Xiaobao casually in the space between two blinks.
“The little good and little bad he’s accumulated will follow their own karmic cycle. If you lie and engage in verbal deceit, your fortune will naturally decline. When it gets low enough, you might even choke on a sip of water and die.”
Yan Shixun said, “Under the Great Dao, there are rules. Even if I don’t see them or bother with them, there’s no need to worry. Cause and effect will naturally run their course.”
“?”
Jing Xiaobao had a row of question marks pop up over his head—he didn’t quite understand what was just said.
But then he thought of the endless sea of books in their family’s library and obediently shut his mouth, not daring to ask more.
It was the New Year, after all. Everyone else was out having fun—he didn’t want to be stuck at home memorizing books. That would be miserable!
“Yan Yan, why are you buying all this stuff?”
Jing Xiaobao curiously reached out to touch the window decorations. The exquisite craftsmanship of the paper cuttings left him in awe, and he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Waaah!”
Hearing this, the vendor beamed with joy.
Jing Xiaobao was at that irresistibly adorable age of three or four, and combined with his incredibly charming, snow-white doll-like face, he was practically a weapon of mass affection.
Especially for older people—he never missed. No one could resist his cuteness.
A sincere compliment from a child that age was enough to make the vendor so happy he could barely keep his mouth shut from smiling. On top of that, Yan Shixun and Ye Li were both strikingly handsome, and just standing in front of the vendor’s stall naturally drew the attention of many passersby. More and more people began to gather around, which made the vendor even more thrilled.
With a generous wave of his hand, the vendor told Yan Shixun to take whatever he liked—it was all free!
Yan Shixun replied, “…That doesn’t seem right. We should still pay.”
The vendor waved him off and said, “It’s not for you anyway. Why would an adult argue over this?”
He pointed at Jing Xiaobao. “It’s New Year’s money for the kid. A little good fortune for the new year! Oh my, this child—how did you raise him to be so beautiful? Looks just like one of those traditional New Year picture dolls.”
Yan Shixun’s expression became hard to describe: “…………”
How did they raise him? They fed him evil spirits to keep him full, fought evil spirits to keep him in a good mood, and suppressed evil spirits so he could sleep well. With a system like that, even a ghost could get chubby.
Jing Xiaobao, sensing Yan Shixun’s thoughts, quietly looked up at him: QAQ Am I not your favorite child, Yan Yan?
Yan Shixun: ……
Because the vendor was just too enthusiastic, they couldn’t refuse. He kept pulling out all the classic New Year catchphrases: “Well, you’re already here,” “It’s for the child,” “It’s the New Year,” “Don’t argue with me,” and so on. In the end, Yan Shixun had no choice but to accept the entire stack of various window decorations the vendor gave Jing Xiaobao.
He had no choice but to head home with a full load.
Looking at the decorations in his left hand and the chubby child in his right, Yan Shixun thought for a moment, then stuffed the decorations into Jing Xiaobao’s arms. “Since they’re for you, you hold them.”
Jing Xiaobao didn’t mind at all. He happily hugged the decorations tight to his chest, looking just like a claw machine trying to grab a prize, swaying back and forth in Yan Shixun’s hands.
The red window decorations made him look even more angelic, attracting the amazed gazes of countless passersby, who marveled at how beautiful the child was.
The New Year shopping crowd was huge. Whole families were out in full force, arms full of bags, soaking in the festive atmosphere.
Yan Shixun, Ye Li, and Jing Xiaobao made up a group that was naturally mistaken for a family of three. Some people even nodded to Yan Shixun, smiling as they praised him: “You’ve raised your child well. You’re a great dad.”
Yan Shixun: At first, it was only that idiot Xiaobing calling me ‘dad,’ but now even two Kings of Hell are doing it… This is too weird!
Jing Xiaobao had adjusted quite well. After being “corrupted” by Lu Xingxing, he now believed that Yan Shixun and Ye Li were a couple, so calling them that didn’t seem strange at all.
Some pedestrians reached out, wanting to pinch Jing Xiaobao’s cheeks. He didn’t resist, obediently letting them, not shy in the slightest. He even sweetly called them “sister” and “brother,” making their heads spin in delight, unable to think straight. All that remained in their hearts was one thought—
Want the stars? I’ll give them to you! Take them all!
They had no idea that the face they had just pinched… belonged to the King of Hell.
“What is Xiao Bao now? A mobile blessing machine?”
Yan Shixun pondered for a moment, then said to Ye Li, “Everyone who touched Xiao Bao today won’t get sick this year. They’ll be healthy and safe all year long.”
Ye Li couldn’t help but laugh. “Then I guess they’re just fated to have this bond with Xiao Bao.”
—After all, they’d been touched by the ghostly aura of the King of Hell. What kind of little ghost would dare mess with them now?
Even walking alone at night, any ghosts would flee in panic, bawling their eyes out as they ran as far away as possible.
Jing Xiaobao blinked his big eyes, completely uninterested in adult matters—he didn’t want to watch only to suddenly see these two sneak in a kiss!
He had learned his lesson. No one was going to trick him anymore. Hmph!
“But yeah, we really did buy a lot today.”
Yan Shixun tugged on Ye Li’s arm and said, “Let’s go home. This should be more than enough. We’ll probably need to split the load with the others so they can take some back too.”
Seeing that Yan Shixun’s mood had improved, Jing Xiaobao finally got up the courage to ask, “Yan Yan, what does ‘for good luck’ mean?”
“I don’t think our family really needs that stuff.”
Jing Xiaobao explained seriously, “Yan Yan, look—the Lord of Fengdu is in our house, the Great Dao is in our house, and even the underworld is here. Even if there’s bad luck, what ghost would dare come to our house?”
He puffed out his cheeks and declared, “If any bad luck shows up, I’ll just eat it.”
Yan Shixun looked at him with a complicated expression. “Don’t go around eating random things. You’ll upset your stomach.”
It was a beautiful day—clear skies, warm sunshine, and the bustling crowd brought with them a liveliness and joy only found in the human world.
Yan Shixun slowly came to a stop on the street. As he gazed at the peace and happiness before him, a faint smile gradually appeared in his eyes.
Mr. Jing Shiwen, Mr. Lin Ting, and countless others who never got to witness this flourishing age with their own eyes could now see it through Jing Xiaobao’s.
The world they once dreamed of had become people’s everyday reality, calm and free of fear. What could be better than that?
This light of day never betrayed the beauty of the world.
If you love what Ciacia is doing, then consider showing your support by supporting a cup of tea for her at Kofi. If you can’t wait for the next release chapter, subscribe to advanced chapters membership on her Kofi to get access to up to 10 chapters!
