TRYMBPIETM 119: When I went in the Past (1)

The few people arranged by Yi Shangxiao were quite capable, as this was their usual line of work.

They drove the van along the safest route to Linghe Village. The vehicle wasn’t speeding, yet they still nearly had a accident on the way.

Luckily, the driver reacted quickly, swerving the steering wheel to the other side, avoiding hitting the two pedestrians crossing the village road.

However, the sudden turn and hard brake caused the vehicle’s engine to malfunction.

Perhaps because the previous bus had broken down, they had brought along a companion who knew how to repair cars.

He got out to check the engine. At first, he didn’t notice any issues, but soon, with Chi Qingzhou’s shadow help, he found the damaged part.

After replacing two parts, he fixed the engine, wiped his hands, got back in the car, and signaled that they could continue.

The rest of the journey went smoothly, but the time spent fixing the engine had delayed them. By the time they reached the entrance of Linghe Village, the moon had already risen.

Chi Qingzhou and the others got out of the car. When they looked at the villagers sitting at the village entrance chatting with worried frowns, their faces immediately became extremely grim.

Du Huan noticed that everyone looked at them with unmistakable wariness. He instinctively looked down at himself, seeing nothing unusual.

He took a few steps forward, about to ask what was going on when those villagers suddenly let out short, startled yells, grabbed their stools, and hurriedly moved away.

It was as if they were being chased by a vengeful ghost, rushing back into the nearest house, and slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

In the midst of the door slamming, Du Huan felt both speechless and confused.

He couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong with these villagers? I don’t look that fierce, do I? Why are they so scared?”

He just wanted to ask which direction the film set was and make sure nothing was wrong with him, but these people reacted as if they had seen a ghost.

Du Huan felt something was off. “What’s going on? If they’re not cooperating, fine, but is this kind of reaction really necessary?”

Chi Qingzhou didn’t answer that question.

He turned around, asked about Yi Shangxiao’s arrangements, and told the people who had accompanied him to go back.

“I can handle things here. You don’t need to stay,” he said calmly. “Call Yi Shangxiao when you get back. If he asks about the situation, just tell him it was my request.”

They exchanged glances, not sure if they had already received a reminder from Yi Shangxiao, but they didn’t hesitate and immediately agreed.

Before leaving, though, they still made sure to warn Chi Qingzhou: “Be careful, this village feels strange.”

Chi Qingzhou smiled slightly. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

The group got into the van and left.

Once they were gone, Chi Qingzhou led Du Huan into Linghe Village.

Du Huan was still a little worried. “Brother Chi, is it really safe here? Everything feels off.”

He turned to look at the peach blossoms by the roadside, his expression quite subtle. “If I’m not mistaken, that tree should be a pear tree, but why are the flowers peach blossoms?”

Chi Qingzhou paused, quietly observing the ghostly aura clinging to the peach blossoms for a while, before walking again. “Let’s go to the set first. It’s getting late.”

Du Huan checked his watch and quickly agreed.

They walked another few hundred meters when a loud argument suddenly reached them.

“Why are you guys like this? Hey, what are you doing, I warn you, stop right now!”

“What’s wrong with hitting you? If I don’t break your legs today, my last name’s not Zhao!”

“What are you doing! Ah! My leg!”

The foul-mouthed insults mixed with some accents, clearly coming from the villagers of Linghe Village.

The person being beaten screamed in pain, their tone full of regret and panic.

Du Huan was startled and quickly moved to protect Chi Qingzhou, but before he could stand properly, Chi Qingzhou pushed him aside.

Ahead of them, two people were supporting each other, hurriedly turning out from behind a house, limping toward the village entrance.

Behind them, a group of villagers, with faces full of rage, held iron shovels and bone-cutting knives, angrily chasing them while shouting insults.

Chi Qingzhou swept his gaze over the scene and recognized one of the two people as the familiar Song Yuzhi. The other one was probably his new assistant.

This assistant was of short stature, but quite sturdy. His right leg was badly injured, and he could barely keep moving, relying on Song Yuzhi to drag him forward. His expression was twisted in agony, and he was sucking in his breath, likely in severe pain.

Song Yuzhi also looked disheveled. It seemed like during the earlier conflict, the villagers had pulled at him, causing one of his buttons to pop off, his well-groomed hairstyle was now in disarray, and there was a red scratch on the corner of his eye.

The two of them looked utterly exhausted but didn’t stop for even a moment.

The villagers’ iron shovels and bone-cutting knives were real, and they gleamed coldly under the moonlight. They didn’t dare to bet that the villagers were just trying to scare them.

Du Huan glanced at the villagers, tugged on Chi Qingzhou’s sleeve, and tried to signal him to move away quickly.

Chi Qingzhou turned back, said “It’s fine,” and walked toward the two running figures.

Song Yuzhi finally saw someone at the intersection and was startled, almost losing his footing. He gasped for breath and loudly warned, “Don’t come over, run!”

Chi Qingzhou pretended not to hear those words.

He continued walking forward, and soon the villagers noticed him.

The harsh curses suddenly stopped. In an instant, all the villagers halted their steps.

Song Yuzhi, his face full of anxiety, rushed to Chi Qingzhou’s side and reached out to grab him. However, Chi Qingzhou stopped in place, calmly looking at the villagers behind Song Yuzhi.

Song Yuzhi hesitated for a second, and the hand that was about to grab his sleeve paused, then slowly turned around.

The villagers, who had been fierce and aggressive moments ago, now all had pale faces, their eyes filled with panic. Their hands, gripping iron hoes and bone-cutting knives, were trembling uncontrollably.

Despite being the ones holding sharp weapons, their fearful expressions made it seem as though Chi Qingzhou was the one holding the knives, and they were the defenseless children.

Song Yuzhi hesitated again, unsure whether to speak.

Chi Qingzhou just stood there, doing nothing, saying nothing, his expression unchanged, but the sweat on the villagers’ foreheads kept increasing, eventually forming streams of water.

It was unclear who cracked first, but a desperate scream broke out from the crowd. In the next moment, everyone seemed to be mechanical dolls suddenly wound up, screaming as they threw down their iron hoes and bone-cutting knives and fled, rolling and scrambling away.

Song Yuzhi and his assistant were shocked at the villagers’ tear-soaked appearance. They watched as each one of them trembled as if they were sifting rice, and despite falling to the ground, they didn’t care about the dirt or pain, crawling into nearby houses. It left them utterly speechless.

Song Yuzhi’s assistant was disoriented: “What… what’s going on? Didn’t they just look like they were ready to kill us? Why are they so terrified now?”

This was like something out of a supernatural story!

Song Yuzhi didn’t understand either.

But he was clear that Chi Qingzhou was no ordinary person and naturally thought Chi Qingzhou must have done something. He quickly thanked Chi Qingzhou.

Chi Qingzhou waved his hand, and Du Huan checked the assistant’s leg. It didn’t seem too serious, probably due to a timely dodge. With a couple of days of rest, he should be fine.

Chi Qingzhou stood up, brushed his hands off, and asked, somewhat puzzled, “What did you guys do earlier to get into a conflict with those villagers? Looking at this injury on your leg, it seems like they were really aiming to break your leg.”

The assistant, with a pained expression, spoke up: “It’s all thanks to Brother Song’s quick reaction. He pulled me back, or that hoe would have definitely broke my knee.”

Song Yuzhi patted his assistant’s shoulder and said to Chi Qingzhou and Du Huan, “I don’t even know what we did wrong. I just asked which direction the film crew is in, and they suddenly grabbed things and tried to hit us.”

Song Yuzhi was truly confused.

He had no idea how things escalated to this point. Initially, his assistant just wanted to ask for directions since it was getting late and he wanted to reach the set and rest, but when he asked about the “Wanxiang” film crew, the villagers suddenly erupted and raised their hands to slap his assistant.

Song Yuzhi reacted quickly and stopped it, but another villager grabbed scissors and tried to poke his eyes with them.

He dodged in time, and the scissors only grazed his face, leaving a scratch. But thinking back, he still felt a lingering fear.

He didn’t know what his assistant had said wrong to provoke such a big reaction from them.

Du Huan, recalling the people he had seen at the village entrance, felt just as puzzled and a little uneasy.

He glanced at his artist, hoping for an answer.

Chi Qingzhou was not too surprised and simply said, “Looks like our film crew is not very well liked here in Linghe Village.”

“Uh…?” Du Huan scratched his head and asked tentatively, “Could it be that they’re blaming the village’s peach blossoms on the film crew?”

Song Yuzhi raised an eyebrow in confusion: “What about the peach blossoms? Isn’t it because of the widespread climate anomaly across the country?”

Chi Qingzhou didn’t answer.

He walked to the roadside and gazed at the blooming peach blossoms, his expression complex and hard to describe.

Du Huan pulled Song Yuzhi aside and quietly explained that the tree blooming with peach flowers wasn’t actually a peach tree. Hearing this, Song Yuzhi and the assistant both turned pale.

Their eyes instinctively turned toward Chi Qingzhou, their gaze filled with reliance they hadn’t even realized before.

Chi Qingzhou didn’t mind their gaze.

He just stared at the peach blossoms for a moment longer before suddenly lifting the corner of his mouth.

“My mother really cares about appearances and her image.”

Song Yuzhi: “…??”

Du Huan: “Ah?”

Assistant: “What??”

The three were confused, staring at Chi Qingzhou, hoping for an explanation.

Chi Qingzhou looked at the blossoms for a while longer before raising his hand and gently brushing a petal.

In a voice only he and Xing Shuangzhan could hear, he softly spoke, “This isn’t bad. At least her final moments were brilliant, and she doesn’t have to experience the despair of the Chi family collapsing anymore.”

“After all, she’s my mother, and she gave me life. Now that this is the outcome, I’m free of any debts with her. As for her and the innocent people from Linxi Village, any grudges they had, they can go sort it out in the underworld.”

Chi Qingzhou’s shadow shifted beneath his feet, and a dense aura of ghostly energy surged outward, rapidly spreading across the entire village in the blink of an eye.

Xing Shuangzhan, without hesitation, abandoned his newly integrated body and condensed his soul form behind Chi Qingzhou. He reached out and wrapped his arms around him from behind.

His body temperature, as always, was warm.

Chi Qingzhou leaned into his embrace and tilted his head back.

The night breeze swept through, and the full peach tree slowly faded into nothingness.

Moonlight poured down through the leaves, splitting into strands and blurring their figures.