TRYMBPIETM 15: The Ancient Tree’s Deep Shade(9)

Not many viewers noticed the gray smoke, but it wasn’t just an isolated incident either.

Their discussion attracted some attention. A fan of Tang Qichen specifically replayed the live stream recording but didn’t see anything unusual, so she didn’t think much of it.

She simply left a comment in the chat: “I watched the recording. You guys must’ve been seeing things, right? Isn’t it possible that what you saw was just the Tyndall effect from sunlight passing through the trees?”

The viewers who had noticed the smoke debated this theory briefly before gradually falling silent.

Tang Qichen’s fans were still celebrating. Tang Qichen himself remained dazed for a while, alternating glances between Chi Qingzhou and the dead snake before finally snapping back to reality.

Almost instinctively, he asked, “What kind of snake was that?”

Chi Qingzhou examined the now-normal-looking snake carefully and shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

Tang Qichen didn’t dwell on it and simply pulled Chi Qingzhou aside to thank him repeatedly.

Meanwhile, some long-time trolls lurking in both Tang Qichen and Chi Qingzhou’s live streams suddenly became excited.

These weren’t paid haters—just people frustrated with their own lives, carrying resentment and dissatisfaction, using the internet to vent their negativity by attacking others.

It didn’t matter that Tang Qichen had just survived a deadly encounter or that Chi Qingzhou had successfully saved him. None of that stopped them from expressing their discontent.

[Seriously? CQZ just acted without knowing anything? TQC almost got bitten! Did he ever consider what could’ve happened if he missed?]

[Maybe Tang Qichen’s life didn’t even cross his mind. He just wanted to play the hero.]

[Facing danger but still making sure to build his persona—CQZ is really dedicated to his act. Even though, you know, it was someone else’s danger.]

[Who jumps into a situation like that without even knowing what they’re dealing with? Did he not think that other people’s lives matter?]

[Let’s be real—this was pure dumb luck. If it hadn’t worked out, it would’ve been a reckless publicity stunt that cost someone their life.]

The trolls unleashed a flood of criticism, completely ignoring context and logic. They reveled in their own satisfaction.

They even convinced themselves that Chi Qingzhou had bad intentions, using this as further proof of why he had received so much criticism in the past.

Even casual viewers who weren’t particularly sharp could sense something off.

[What the hell? Do these people have some deep personal grudge against Chi Qingzhou?]

[What kind of weirdos are these? It’s like their brains never fully developed, yet they have the persistence to keep picking fights. In a way, their sheer dedication is almost impressive.]

Tang Qichen’s fans swiftly clapped back with sharp rebuttals. The trolls were completely overwhelmed, their comments buried in the flood of responses.

Unwilling to accept defeat, they stubbornly kept arguing.

They had no idea that invisible strands of black energy had already wrapped around them. Their minds grew foggy, leaving no room for anything but anger and resentment.

Their fingers mechanically pounded at their keyboards, their eyes vacant. Even when family members or their bosses approached them, they remained unresponsive.

Chi Qingzhou, however, sensed something was off.

He cast a casual glance at the camera, his smile laced with meaning.

…..

Three minutes later, the director and a fully equipped rescue team arrived at the scene. The local police, who had just received an emergency report, quickly joined the livestream to assess the situation. Seeing that the snake had already been dealt with, they all sighed in relief.

They had moved as fast as possible. After all, noticing the emergency, making the call, gathering equipment, and reaching the remote location on foot—all while keeping track of Tang Qichen’s condition—had taken less than five minutes. Their efficiency was a testament to their professionalism.

But some things don’t bend to human will.

The rescue team had faced situations before where, despite their best efforts, they couldn’t save a life. Each failure was a scar that never faded.

This time, even though they had rushed over for nothing, the fact that everyone was safe made it all worthwhile.

Director Hu was practically bowing in gratitude to Chi Qingzhou.

If Tang Qichen had been seriously injured, shutting down the show would’ve been the least of his worries—his conscience would never find peace again.

He clapped Chi Qingzhou on the shoulder, grinning so wide his face wrinkled.

The rescue team captain briefly confirmed the details with Chi Qingzhou before examining the snake. He quickly identified it as an Indian krait.

This species closely resembles the Chinese krait and is a nocturnal creature that typically doesn’t appear during the day.

Its venom attacks the nervous system, and as little as 2 to 3 milligrams can be fatal. Worse yet, it produces a large amount of venom, making any encounter extremely dangerous.

The police recognized the species as well and immediately issued a warning in the livestream chats:

[The Indian krait is a highly venomous snake responsible for many fatalities. It is widespread in India and nearby regions. Qingjun Province occasionally sees these snakes, and right now is the peak breeding season for reptiles. We urge everyone to avoid venturing into the wilderness after rainfall.]

The rescue team captain patted Tang Qichen on the back, relieved.

“Kid, you got lucky. They say that even with antivenom, the survival rate after an Indian krait bite is only 50%. If your colleague hadn’t acted so quickly, you would’ve been betting your life on that coin toss.”

Tang Qichen froze. A wave of intense fear washed over him.

He turned to Chi Qingzhou, filled with gratitude, and thanked him profusely.

Chi Qingzhou simply smiled and shook his head, unfazed by the thanks.

What pleased him more was that Xing Shuangzhan had not only reclaimed some ghostly energy but also captured the spirit that had been attached to the cursed snake.

Tang Qichen’s fans were even more impressed with Chi Qingzhou’s selflessness.

Not only did they flood his livestream with gratitude, but they also followed his social media in droves and pushed his name onto the trending list.

As for the trolls—after repeated warnings from the police and rescue team, they finally started snapping out of their daze.

Some looked at the unsent messages on their screens, broke into a cold sweat, and hurriedly deleted their hateful words.

Others suddenly realized that their family members or bosses had been standing behind them for a long time. Under those judgmental gazes, their entire bodies stiffened.

Scattered wisps of dark energy drifted out of the livestream chat. Xing Shuangzhan reached out and grabbed a handful, stuffing it all into Chi Qingzhou’s shadow.

This was excellent material for repairing his little contractor’s soul—it couldn’t go to waste.

Chi Qingzhou lightly stepped on his shadow, signaling Xing Shuangzhan to be more subtle. He maintained an unchanged smile as he watched the director announce that the mushroom foraging segment would be cut short.

Given everything that had happened, it was understandable.

The director led the guests and the elderly man down the mountain. It wasn’t just the city-dwelling guests— even the elderly man, who had just heard about Tang Qichen’s ordeal, was shaken and had no objections to the program’s decision.

Besides, they had already collected plenty of mushrooms—termite mushrooms, bamboo fungus, boletus, golden chanterelles, dried beef liver mushrooms—their task was essentially complete.

Taking into account the guests’ need for rest and privacy, the production team decided to end the livestream early as well.

The audience was very understanding. After bidding farewell to the guests, they migrated to Weibo and various forums to continue discussing the day’s shocking events.

The production team hurriedly issued a public statement, acknowledging their shortcomings, apologizing to the guests—especially Tang Qichen—and expressing their gratitude to Chi Qingzhou. They promised to be more cautious in the future and to never repeat such mistakes.

This apology, along with the trending topics #TangQichenInDanger#, #TangQichenRescued#, and #ChiQingzhouSavesLives#, gained massive traction and sparked widespread discussion.

In just a few hours, Chi Qingzhou’s follower count surged by a million, and they weren’t hate-followers either—he had completely turned his reputation around.

Some entertainment companies took notice and tentatively sent private messages expressing interest in signing him.

Unfortunately, Chi Qingzhou wasn’t fond of Weibo and had no sense of belonging in the industry. He remained completely unaware of these offers.

Only the system continued to monitor the situation, its code once again falling into chaos.

This was absurd.

This was downright surreal.

Why did it feel like this host didn’t need it at all??

…

In a stilted house on the southern edge of Yinpeng Village—

Zhu Yantong was leisurely enjoying his meal when a sudden sharp pain struck his chest. A sickly-sweet taste surged up his throat, and he vomited a mouthful of foul-smelling blood.

The dark brown blood was visibly unnatural, carrying a faint aura of decay. It landed on the dining table, and within seconds, dried into brittle, blackened flakes.

“Who killed the Ghost Serpent?!”

Zhu Yantong wiped the dried blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes flashing with venomous hatred.

“My Ghost Serpent was nurtured with ghostly energy from an ancient tomb. No ordinary exorcist could have possibly harmed it… Could it be that the old geezers from the Xuanxu Sect^[1] have really tracked me down?”

Gritting his teeth, he quickly formed several hand seals.

Yet, there was no response from the ghost servant he had sent to guard the Ghost Serpent. Though its spiritual presence remained, he was unable to establish contact—

Just like yesterday, near the ancestral grounds.

Zhu Yantong lowered his hands, his expression twisting into something monstrous. “It really is the same person.”

Had the Xuanxu Sect truly detected something amiss with him and his master and sent someone after them?

But he couldn’t sense the presence of any fellow practitioners in the vicinity.

Frustration boiled inside him, but he didn’t dare rush into the mountains to investigate just yet.

Back when Scenery Along the Way had contacted the village chief, Zhu Yantong had already divined that there would be a guest with an unusual fate.

At the time, he had already selected his next target—he only needed to find one more individual with a special fate to complete the ritual his master had instructed him to perform. So, he hadn’t bothered to divine the life expectancy or death omens of any guests. Instead, he had used the excuse of buying medicine to sneak off to Hexing City.

Years ago, he had undergone facial reconstruction surgery to avoid being recognized. Most exorcists, even if they saw his face directly, wouldn’t be able to deduce his true identity.

Brazenly entering Hexing City, he had posed as an errand boy for the village chief and arranged a meeting with one of the program’s hosts.

Zhu Yantong still remembered it clearly—the host at the time wasn’t the same one as now.

That man (Qi Ming) was filled with jealousy and would do anything for personal gain. With just a minor trick, Zhu Yantong had successfully stoked his malicious tendencies and managed to orchestrate a murder—

All without personally lifting a finger.

His master’s ritual didn’t necessarily require live sacrifices, but capturing souls made things more convenient.

This wasn’t the first time he had manipulated others into killing for him. He was an expert at it.

As a favor in return, he had temporarily helped the host erase some security footage and tamper with the evidence of a hit-and-run, allowing the man to escape legal consequences.

What he hadn’t anticipated was encountering an exceedingly rare Ghost King while in the city.

The oppressive aura of a world-ending specter had swept through every street of Hexing City, forcing him to prostrate himself on the sidewalk, trembling and unable to think of anything else—

By the time the Ghost King left, he had crawled to the site of his target’s death, only to find that her spirit had already been taken by an underworld reaper.

Zhu Yantong had always looked down on the Xuanxu Sect and believed his master to be far superior, but that didn’t mean he was foolish.

He was merely a low-level ghost- tamer with a bit of skill. How could he possibly dare to challenge the underworld?

Seething with frustration and unease, he had returned to Yinping Village empty-handed.

He had feared that he might have ruined his master’s grand scheme.

But luck was on his side—when the program team arrived yesterday, he discovered that among the guests, not one, but two possessed extraordinarily rare fates!

His master had taught him a secret art—by observing a person’s facial features and demeanor, he could determine their fate.

He identified one guest with the classic “Vermilion Bird Riding the Wind^[2]” destiny, while the other had a fate both blessed by the heavens and abandoned by fortune—a contradiction so extreme it defied logic.

People like that were once-in-a-lifetime occurrences.

Zhu Yantong had immediately set his sights on Chi Qingzhou, determined to use him as a live sacrifice.

By comparison, Tang Qichen—whom he had originally chosen—wasn’t as valuable. It didn’t matter if his soul was intact or not.

When he learned the guests were heading into the mountains today, he had sent his prized ghost Serpent to capture Tang Qichen’s soul.

If not for the fact that ordinary ghost servants would be burned just by touching someone with Tang Qichen’s fate, he would have sent more.

Yet, at the moment when he thought success was guaranteed—

His Ghos tSerpent was killed.

His ghost servant was missing.

He had spent over a decade planning for this moment—there was no way he could accept this outcome.

Gritting his teeth, he downed a bowl of enchanted water to stabilize his condition. The sickly grayish hue of his face slowly faded.

Then, he violently smashed the bowl onto the table, his gaze fierce.

This matter would not end here.

Whoever had ruined his plans—he would make them pay.

And his master’s ritual… he could not afford any more delays.

Those two souls—he would claim them.

…

The incident on Scenery Along the Way had exploded into a massive scandal. Multiple hashtags dominated trending searches, with #ChiQingzhouSavesLives# staying at the top for nearly an entire day. Discussions spread across forums and video platforms.

Shen Wenshu had just returned home from the Xuanxu Sect, completed his evening prayers, and was now lounging on a beanbag, scrolling through meme videos.

He had been enjoying himself—until he stumbled upon a safety education video from a content creator he followed.

A sponsored post?

Curious, he clicked on it—

Only to find himself watching a recording of Scenery Along the Way’s livestream.

Minutes later, his smile had completely vanished. He hastily called his master.

His master was a senior figure in the Xuan Sect. After watching the video Shen Wenshu shared, he immediately contacted several fellow elders.

One by one, they reviewed the footage, reconstructing the energy signature lurking within Chi Qingzhou’s shadow. Their expressions turned grave.

“It does seem to be him.”

“But wasn’t he still in hibernation?”

“Hard to say—he has awakened prematurely before.”

“…Should we observe for now? What’s this show called?”

“I believe it’s called… Scenery Along the Way?”