Since the talent show would be broadcast to the public, there was a risk of exposing the existence of the metaphysical world. Dean Xu personally summoned the nine members of the metaphysics class to instruct them on the core principle of the mission: remain low-key and cautious.
“We’ve already coordinated with the show’s production team. The director will instruct the staff to avoid filming you whenever possible—your performances can be skipped. Just keep a low profile and don’t let the other trainees find out your real identities,” Dean Xu repeated the point two or three times. “The production team will give you as much freedom as possible, but for safety reasons, only a handful of them know who you are. If you run into problems, go to one of these people.”
Jiang Luo looked at the list. It included the names of the main heads of the production team.
To put it simply, their role was to be invisible—solve the supernatural issue, then quietly exit the show without leaving a trace.
Jiang Luo glanced at the show’s name: Next Stop, Idol.
The name struck a familiar chord.
He thought for a moment, then suddenly remembered—wasn’t this the very show Bai Qiu had been trying so hard to push him into?
Two months ago, he and “Senior Brother Qiao,” who was actually Chi You in disguise, had helped the A-list actress Bai Qiu break free from a binding charm cast by her manager. After that, Bai Qiu exchanged contact info with Jiang Luo and persistently tried to get him into the entertainment industry, even drawing up a debut plan for him. The first stop on that plan was this very show: Next Stop, Idol.
Jiang Luo had flatly refused every time, yet fate had brought the show back into his life in this unexpected way.
Thinking of Bai Qiu reminded him of her manager. Jiang Luo took out his phone and searched for updates on the incident.
Bai Qiu had acted quickly. Just a week after breaking free from the charm, she had sent her manager, He Meng, to jail. The charges were many, the most serious being drug use and blackmail.
Every charge was heavy enough to put He Meng behind bars for life.
Jiang Luo couldn’t help but marvel—when women decide to be ruthless, there’s really no room left for men.
Next Stop, Idol was a boy group talent show. Zhuo Zhongqiu, standing beside the dean, looked at his classmates gleefully and asked, “So, who’s going?”
Dean Xu stroked his white beard. “Good question.”
Naturally, appearances mattered for a talent show.
Dean Xu looked over each student and sighed—everyone looked good, so who should he choose?
School missions could earn credits. Credits were needed to graduate, win awards, or even exchange for money. The six major sects also selected high-credit students as personal disciples. Every mission, therefore, was both a crisis and an opportunity.
Unable to decide, Dean Xu said, “Let’s vote on it.”
The voting results came in: Jiang Luo was first, followed by Qi Ye and Lu Youyi. The dean finalized the decision, “Someone will pick you up to join the program the day after tomorrow. Be at the school by 8 a.m. Dismissed.”
Outside the dean’s office, Jiang Luo asked darkly, “Who voted for me?”
Eight hands shot up in unison.
Wenren Lian twirled a curl of his hair and smiled, “That face of yours would be a crime not to show on camera. As for me—I’m used to dressing as a woman, so I’m out. Ge Zhu’s a Daoist, also not suitable. Kuang Zheng’s build is too big—not allowed. Ye Xun needs to carry his Little Pink at all times. Pretty sure the production team won’t allow dolls. And as for Cyril”
He looked at the pale, sleep-deprived, golden-haired boy. “…Let’s give him time to catch up on his rest.”
“Counting everyone out, it really just leaves you three.”
Jiang Luo squinted at them. Since it was already decided, he accepted his fate. He touched his face. He had always known he was good-looking—and if people noticed, his future life could get complicated.
To avoid being mobbed when going out in the future, Jiang Luo was determined to stay as low-key as possible.
After afternoon classes, Jiang Luo was summoned back to the Heavenly Master Residence by Feng Li.
Coincidentally, Zhuo Zhongqiu and Qi Ye were also called back by their respective families.
Jiang Luo arrived at the mansion around noon. The place was bustling as always. As he stepped in, a gatekeeping disciple respectfully greeted him, “Senior Brother.”
Jiang Luo nodded and walked into the inner courtyard under many reverent gazes.
Feng Li wasn’t at the mansion, but he had sent another disciple, Wang Santan, to handle Jiang Luo’s affairs. It had been a while since Jiang Luo had seen this senior brother, and he casually asked, “Senior Brother Santan, why weren’t you at the third stage of the competition in Xiangxi a few days ago?”
He remembered Wang Santan and another senior, Zhou Wudu, had clearly passed the second stage.
Wang Santan’s face darkened. “Because out of the five people who ate mushrooms in Yunnan… I was one of them.”
Jiang Luo: “…” Pfft.
Wang Santan brought him to his room and said, “The master wants you to practice five new types of talismans. He’ll check your progress via video at ten o’clock.”
“Oh, and I prepared a set of clothes for you—it’s in the wardrobe,” he added. “We’re attending a funeral tomorrow. Make sure you wear that outfit.”
With that, Wang Santan left. Time was tight, so Jiang Luo focused seriously on practicing the talismans.
When he had just become Feng Li’s disciple, he deliberately hid his true strength. But Feng Li seemed to see through his facade—every task he assigned was heavier than the last, constantly pushing Jiang Luo to reveal his real power.
Now, with only three hours left until ten o’clock, Feng Li had actually assigned him the task of learning to draw five different talismans in that time. He really dared to make demands like that.
When one is focused, time always flies. At exactly ten o’clock that night, Jiang Luo was ready and waiting for Feng Li’s video call.
On the other end, it was Zhou Wudu, another of Feng Li’s direct disciples, who was fiddling with the computer. After adjusting the camera angle, Feng Li’s cold and indifferent face appeared onscreen.
Feng Li sat in a carved wooden chair, a faint displeasure on his face. His hands were clasped together, and the dark traditional Tang suit he wore made his presence feel oppressive and unapproachable.
Zhou Wudu stood nervously behind Feng Li. He shot Jiang Luo a meaningful look, silently mouthing: The master’s in a bad mood!
Jiang Luo thought to himself: Unlucky.
He properly picked up his brush and said, “Master, I’m ready.”
Feng Li gave a small nod. “Begin.”
Jiang Luo drew in his qi and focused as he began to write.
His talent in talisman-making was what people called “a gift from the heavens.” For others, Feng Li’s demand might’ve driven them to tears. But for Jiang Luo, he could complete it swiftly and well. In less than half an hour, five fresh talismans were neatly laid out on the table.
Seeing Jiang Luo’s fluid brushstrokes, without a trace of hesitation, Feng Li’s expression softened slightly. “Wudu, you started learning talismans years before Jiang Luo, yet your progress can’t match even a month of his.”
Zhou Wudu looked at Jiang Luo’s work with a mix of envy and jealousy. “Master, Junior Brother is amazing.”
Jiang Luo modestly replied, “Senior Brother is impressive too.”
They exchanged a few compliments before Feng Li suddenly looked at Jiang Luo’s face and said, “You didn’t eat dinner?”
Jiang Luo replied, “I started practicing talismans as soon as I got back. I haven’t had time yet.”
Feng Li’s expression darkened again. “And this is how your Senior Brother takes care of you? Call him over.”
When Wang Santan came over, he got scolded by Feng Li. An 80-kilogram grown man was nearly brought to tears and whimpered, “I’ll go get some food ready for Junior Brother right away!”
Twenty minutes later, he brought Jiang Luo a bowl of noodles and a side dish. Under Feng Li’s watchful gaze, Jiang Luo finished the meal. When he was about eighty percent full, Feng Li slowly asked, “While I was away, did he come to see you?”
Jiang Luo instantly knew who he was referring to.
“No.” He deliberately hesitated, then shook his head.
Feng Li’s gaze turned cold. “Jiang Luo, tell me the truth.”
Jiang Luo’s eyes suddenly reddened. “Master, I really couldn’t stay away from him. Please don’t hurt him. I was the one who went looking for him this time. I missed him so much… Please believe me, Master, after I help him take revenge… I’ll do my best to forget him.”
The black-haired young man lowered his head, choking on his words. “I will forget him. Please don’t let him be completely destroyed.”
Feng Li remained expressionless. “Where did you meet him?”
Jiang Luo said nothing.
A murderous aura surged in Feng Li’s heart.
Just a malicious ghost—and yet it had already affected his disciple to this degree.
He had thought that after the last battle with Chi You, the ghost wouldn’t dare come near Jiang Luo again. But clearly, this ghost was like a bone-burrowing parasite, continually deepening its grip on Jiang Luo.
Chi You…
Feng Li rubbed the jade ring on his finger and said calmly, “Even if you don’t tell me, I have my ways. Jiang Luo, I’ll say this one last time: humans and ghosts walk different paths. The next time you see him, you must notify me immediately. If you don’t obey…”
Feng Li looked at him coldly. “I won’t just stop him from reincarnating.”
“I’ll break your legs.”
The smile frozen on Jiang Luo’s lips stiffened. He looked up at Feng Li with a blank expression.
The black-haired youth’s eyes were slightly red. Even though his face was expressionless, sorrow was written all over him. Feng Li frowned. “Go wash your face.”
His tone left no room for refusal. Jiang Luo lowered his gaze. A few seconds later, he stood and walked to the bathroom.
He splashed two handfuls of cold water over his face. When he looked up, the young man in the mirror wore a dark expression.
Jiang Luo hated Feng Li’s attitude.
From childhood to now, no one had ever restricted his actions, let alone casually threatened him like this: If you do this, I’ll break your legs.
His relationship with Feng Li was transactional from the start. Though Feng Li never said it outright, Jiang Luo knew he was only accepted as a disciple because of his talent and power. As a disciple, he could serve the Heavenly Master Residence.
Feng Li was not a good person to deal with. Otherwise, in the original story, he wouldn’t have stood by coldly and watched his own clan’s disciple be tortured by Chi You for the sake of avenging Chi You.
They were both clear-headed people. Some things didn’t need to be said outright. Jiang Luo could accept that Feng Li wanted Chi You destroyed—but he would never accept Feng Li trying to control him.
Water dripped from his chin. Jiang Luo wiped his face clean, composed himself, and walked out.
Seeing him restored to composure, the icy aura around Feng Li eased a little.
Zhou Wudu stood behind Feng Li, scared stiff. He gave Wang Santan a desperate look. Wang Santan swallowed hard and mustered his courage to say, “Master, it’s getting late. You should rest.”
Feng Li said coolly, “Turn it off.”
Zhou Wudu stepped forward and shut off the video call.
The screen went dark. Jiang Luo sat at his desk, and when he glanced to the side, he saw Wang Santan rapidly typing on his phone.
“I’m asking why Master was so angry,” Wang Santan said in a low voice, still afraid to speak aloud despite Feng Li being gone. “Zhou Wudu said Master ran into some crazy woman today. She charged at him yelling, ‘Feng Li, let’s bear the next Heavenly Master together!’ and nearly managed to grab onto him.”
Jiang Luo imagined the scene in his head and almost burst out laughing. He felt a little better inside. “What did Master do?”
“Master’s face turned completely dark,” Wang Santan shivered as he sighed. “That girl was even from the Chi family, and one of the Chi family’s elders was standing right beside them, grinning as he watched. Seemed like they were quite happy to see it happen.”
How could they not be happy?
Feng Li had status, ability, looks—he had it all.
To someone who didn’t know Feng Li, he really did seem like a one-in-a-thousand ideal husband.
But Jiang Luo could guarantee: Feng Li’s future wife—if Feng Li didn’t like her, then fine. But if he did like her, she’d definitely be the type to hear: “If you dare step out that door, I’ll break your legs.”
Wouldn’t be surprising if he locked her up in the Heavenly Master’s residence and never let her out.
Jiang Luo chatted a bit more with Wang Santan, and Wang Santan yawned. “That’s enough talk—get some sleep. We’ve got an early start tomorrow. We need to be at the location by eight. Junior brother, you better set your alarm for six.”
Jiang Luo: “Got it.”
The night passed peacefully. Early the next morning, Jiang Luo got up. After breakfast with Wang Santan, the two of them headed out.
The outfit Wang Santan had prepared for Jiang Luo was a full black Tang suit. He was wearing the same one himself. The clothes were identical, but when worn by the two of them, the effect was completely different.
After getting out of the car, Wang Santan quietly put some distance between himself and Jiang Luo.
When they arrived at the location, Jiang Luo finally found out whose funeral they were attending. It was for a collateral member of the Chi family who had died during the Xiangxi competition.
Inside the mourning hall, the coffin was placed at the center. The deceased’s photo sat on a table at the front. Members of the Chi family knelt on either side of the coffin, crying more sincerely than they had at Chi You’s funeral.
Jiang Luo and Wang Santan offered incense, and then began searching the crowd for Feng Li.
Jiang Luo was a little distracted.
He was pondering something.
Judging by the time, this Chi family member had been dead for seven days already. In August weather, a body decays fast—so why hadn’t they buried it yet?
Suddenly, Wang Santan quickened his pace, pulling Jiang Luo through the crowd and respectfully saying, “Sir, we’re here.”
Jiang Luo looked up and saw several elders standing around Feng Li, chatting. One of them he recognized—he had seen this Chi family elder sitting next to the old Heavenly Master at the Heavenly Master residence.
Feng Li nodded slightly. “Come meet the elders.”
As the senior, Wang Santan greeted them first, “Elders, good day. You all look healthier than ever.”
“Good child,” one of the elders smiled warmly and turned his eyes toward Jiang Luo, a sharp gleam flashing in his gaze. “So this is the first-place winner from the competition? Come closer and let me have a look—maybe I’ll catch a bit of that winning aura.”
Jiang Luo stepped forward. The elders secretly scrutinized him. One of the Zhuo family elders said unhurriedly, “We’ve got the children all here anyway. Zhongqiu and the others are playing in the back—let them come too.”
Wang Santan glanced at Feng Li, who gave his approval: “Go ahead.”
The two disciples took their leave. Feng Li watched them go. The Heavenly Master’s Tang suit was low-key yet noticeable in the crowd, and Jiang Luo stood out even more. More than a few people sneaked glances at him—talented people always drew attention.
But whether it was the living or the dead, Feng Li saw emotions like love and affection as distractions that made people weak—like filthy sludge. Even the purest, most exquisite heart would become muddied after being tainted by love.
He didn’t like love and romance. He hated seeing others corrupt the disciples he had his eye on.
Whether living or dead.
Feng Li withdrew his gaze and said coldly, “Do the elders know that my little disciple has a rather… unique lover?”
The elders exchanged glances, unsure why the esteemed Heavenly Master was bringing this up. “Oh? What do you mean?”
Feng Li looked at the Chi family elder. “Speaking of which, this lover has something to do with the Chi family.”
The sharp-faced Chi elder suddenly had a bad feeling.
His hands behind his back trembled slightly, though his face remained composed. “Don’t tell me… one of the Chi family’s girls?”
Feng Li gave a cold laugh. “It’s your Chi family’s long-dead head, Chi You. He turned into a vengeful ghost and won’t stop clinging to my disciple.”
Clatter—
The Chi elder’s eyes widened as his thermos cup dropped to the floor.
***
After parting from Feng Li and the others, Jiang Luo didn’t go looking for Zhuo Zhongqiu and the rest.
He hid in a corner, scanning each guest who had come to the funeral.
A member of the Chi family had died for the first time—Jiang Luo didn’t believe Chi You wouldn’t come to watch the drama.
That vengeful ghost was probably already hiding in some corner, maliciously observing everyone’s every move.
Jiang Luo’s eyes swept past the coffin once more.
The wailing on both sides was heart-wrenching. A few people were crying so hard they collapsed to the ground—enough to move the hearts of any who saw or heard it.
When Chi You, the legitimate heir and head of the Chi family, had died, there hadn’t been nearly this much of a scene.
Jiang Luo couldn’t help but laugh. To avoid being treated like a lunatic, he covered his mouth and backed up a few steps so his schadenfreude wouldn’t be overheard.
But as he stepped back—he bumped into someone.
The person let out a muffled laugh, clearly intrigued. “What are you laughing at?”
