TRYMBPIETM 24: The Ancient Tree’s Deep Shade(18)

The staff wandered in the white fog for a few minutes. After confirming that the ghostly live stream wouldn’t harm ordinary people, Chi Qingzhou withdrew his attention.

He stepped forward, grabbed the rope tied to the side of the live broadcast van, and with a firm tug, directly pulled the four lost staff members back from the mist!

The group was stunned for a few seconds. Realizing they were safe, they gratefully thanked Chi Qingzhou.

Chi Qingzhou casually replied, “It’s fine,” while gazing into the fog, instinctively narrowing his eyes.

At some point, elongated black shadows began appearing in the fog.

The silhouettes resembled human figures with long limbs, their arms and legs swaying unnaturally as they moved.

Even though the dense fog obscured the nearby trees and buildings, these shadows seemed to part the mist, making their vague outlines visible even to ordinary people.

With Chi Qingzhou’s keen eyesight, he could clearly see their exposed pale-blue skin and long, sharp nails.

He asked Xing Shuangzhan in a soft voice, “There’s almost no scent of ghostly energy… Are these ghouls?”

Xing Shuangzhan hummed in agreement from within his shadow.

Chi Qingzhou frowned. “That ghost tamer actually sent ghouls to attack ordinary people? Does he not realize the live stream is running?”

Zhu Yantong, who created the ghostly labyrinth, was well aware of the situation at the farmhouse.

If the Paranormal Bureau or the Xuanxu Sect discovered that he was targeting civilians, they would relentlessly hunt him down.

Why was he going this far?

Xing Shuangzhan answered, “Someone he fears has arrived and even promised to help. Your friend is no ordinary person. With such a good opportunity for retaliation, he wouldn’t just sit back and watch.”

Chi Qingzhou understood. “So those two ghost tamers are getting desperate.”

Since Ah lai had already taken action, he should lend a hand as well.

Stopping the ghouls from taking anyone’s soul—this was something he was familiar with.

A smile curved on Chi Qingzhou’s lips. He rolled up his sleeves and casually grabbed a long wooden stick from the pile of props prepared by the crew. Without hurry, he stepped into the mist.

The guests were stunned by his movements and soon panicked.

Tang Qichen rushed forward a few steps, anxiously shouting, “Mr. Chi! Chi Qingzhou, where are you going?! Come back, hurry!”

Liang Ji also hurried to stop him, but they were a step too late. Chi Qingzhou had already disappeared into the fog.

Glancing back at the alarmed guests, Chi Qingzhou smiled warmly and innocently.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to have a little talk with them.”

After a brief pause, his gaze landed on Xu Xinxin, who was trembling all over. His voice softened. “If you two teachers still have the energy, please take care of Ms. Xu.”

Xu Xinxin looked up blankly, only to hear Chi Qingzhou’s meaningful words:

“Sometimes, being too perceptive isn’t a good thing.”

Her face turned pale, and she instinctively clutched Zhong Lingshu’s sleeve.

Watching Chi Qingzhou’s figure vanish into the mist, Chi Qingning lowered her eyes, hiding the cold glint in them.

Go ahead, go ahead. It would be best if you never came back.

—

Chi Qingzhou gripped the wooden stick and walked slowly through the dense fog.

The yin energy and ghostly aura thickened in the air, almost congealing into a liquid state.

Everywhere he looked was a blur of white, making it impossible to discern directions.

Only the shifting figures in the mist became clearer.

Sensing the presence of the living, they surged toward Chi Qingzhou like sharks drawn to the scent of blood, dragging their stiff bodies as they rushed forward.

Chi Qingzhou chuckled softly.

With a flick of his wrist, he adjusted his grip on the long stick, holding it in a two-handed stance. He tapped the ground lightly with the tip of the stick, then took a step forward, kicking the stick high into the air!

A ghoul suddenly lunged out from the fog, its features twisted into a grotesque expression. Its long, clawed fingers, glowing with a sickly blue-green hue, slashed straight for Chi Qingzhou’s throat.

Instead of retreating, Chi Qingzhou advanced, tightening his core muscles as he stepped forward and swung his stick downward in a powerful chop!

The stick sliced through the thick mist with a sharp whooshing sound and struck the ghoul’s shoulder with a heavy impact.

The ghoul didn’t just stumble—it collapsed to the ground outright.

The bones from its right shoulder to its back were shattered by the force of Chi Qingzhou’s strike. No matter how much it flailed its limbs, it couldn’t get up.

Chi Qingzhou withdrew his stick and nudged the ghoul on the ground with it.

From within his shadow, Xing Shuangzhan extended a hand, extracting the ghostly energy trapped within the ghoul’s body.

These ghouls had only recently been created, so their ghostly energy hadn’t dissipated yet, meaning ordinary people wouldn’t see anything too unusual.

However, the live chat of the broadcast still erupted into chaos.

[Holy crap, what is that thing?!]

[Ahhh! That face is terrifying!!]

[Did the production team use special effects?]

[Is that a crew member? He really looked like he was attacking Mr. Chi just now—I almost had a heart attack.]

[No, you’ve got it backward. It looks like CQZ really just hit that crew member.]

[The production team is taking this way too far—this is gross!]

[The makeup is actually really well done. Feels like a haunted house attraction.]

Chi Qingzhou didn’t check the live chat, but he could guess what the audience was discussing. His smile grew even warmer and more sincere.

“Dangerous actions—please do not imitate. Post-production team, make sure to add a subtitle for that. We wouldn’t want viewers to get the wrong idea.”

[So it’s just special effects.]

[The crew is really dedicated.]

[So it wasn’t a real fight? Boring.]

While the audience remained confused and shocked, Xing Shuangzhan quietly harvested a wave of pure emotional energy.

He didn’t step out of the shadows and spoke in a voice only Chi Qingzhou could hear. “Qingzhou, be careful. The ghostly energy sustaining this ghoul… it’s the same as mine.”

Chi Qingzhou subtly nodded to show he understood.

Since the ghostly live stream wasn’t that advanced, viewers couldn’t see what was happening on the ground. They only saw Chi Qingzhou nodding, assuming the production team was giving him instructions.

[Was this special segment tailor-made for CQZ?]

[LOL, did CQZ request this because CQN stole the spotlight yesterday?]

[Use your brain—do you think they could throw this together at the last minute?]

[Isn’t this show supposed to be a peaceful travel variety? Why the sudden change in direction?]

[Wait, doesn’t that attacker seem off?]

[That skin color, those stiff movements… was that really a living person?]

[AHHH! Behind you!! Someone’s attacking! Mr. Chi, run!!]

A dark figure suddenly emerged behind Chi Qingzhou, clawed hands reaching for the back of his neck, its sharp nails still stained with fresh blood.

Many viewers were so startled that they frantically spammed the chat, fearing Chi Qingzhou would be hurt.

However, as if he had eyes on the back of his head, Chi Qingzhou ducked just in time, rolling to the side. With a quick push off the ground, he trapped the ghoul’s neck between his legs, coiling around it like a snake and twisting—

The ghoul staggered and collapsed, and with one final squeeze, Chi Qingzhou snapped its neck.

Xing Shuangzhan deftly extracted the ghostly energy, and the ghoul instantly fell still.

More ghouls rushed in like mad. Chi Qingzhou straightened up, but at that moment, a mocking voice echoed in his mind.

“Host, are you really not going to accept the mission? You’re in quite the predicament now.”

“They’re about to catch you. Aren’t you afraid?”

“Just agree to do the missions, and I’ll request a powerful prop as a reward for you.”

Chi Qingzhou sensed that something was off. He stood up and realized that, at some unknown point, the scene before him had silently changed.

A narrow alleyway was squeezed between rows of old residential buildings, lined with street vendors on both sides, their cries of “buy one, get one free” mixing with the occasional shouting matches.

The asphalt road was covered in dust, with rotting vegetable leaves, fruit peels, and scraps of paper littered everywhere.

Dirty water flowed through the gutters on either side, emitting a foul, decaying stench.

It was a typical scene of an aging neighborhood in a small town.

At the alley’s entrance, a luxury car pulled to a stop. A young couple stepped out, opening the car doors.

The wife glanced at the ground and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Oh my god, is this a pigsty? It’s so filthy! I really don’t want to go in!“

The husband responded indifferently, “It’s fine. Just throw away our clothes and shoes when we get back.”

The wife nodded in agreement and took her husband’s arm, walking straight past Chi Qingzhou—who was now nothing more than an intangible shadow—heading directly into the alley.

Chi Qingzhou recognized them. They were his biological parents when they were still young.

He asked calmly, “An illusion? You did this?”

The system responded smugly, “That’s right! I’m just being kind enough to help you see reality more clearly.”

Chi Qingzhou remained silent.

The system huffed. “Are you waiting for that world-ending ghost to come save you? Don’t bother—he won’t be able to find you.”

“This is an independent space that rewinds the past. No matter how powerful he is, he can’t dig into your mind to get in.”

The system had never given up on persuading Chi Qingzhou to be reborn.

Ever since it realized he refused to accept missions, it had made up its mind: he had to be taught a lesson.

It was a high-dimensional system—how could it allow itself to be manipulated by a mere low-dimensional being?

It had been biding its time, waiting for this exact moment.

Wasn’t this host supposed to be strong?

Didn’t he have a contract with a world-ending ghost?

Then it would make sure he was trapped in danger, completely helpless!

At that point, there was no way the host wouldn’t come begging for help!

The system suddenly shoved Chi Qingzhou hard.

The world instantly darkened, and a sharp whistling sound of something slicing through the air rang in his ears. Chi Qingzhou instinctively tried to dodge forward—only to realize that he couldn’t move at all.

A belt lashed down heavily on his back and arms. The exposed skin beneath his short sleeves immediately swelled with red welts.

A pain he hadn’t felt in years shot through his nerves, and Chi Qingzhou’s gaze darkened.

A woman’s shrill voice echoed through the alley.

“Where’s the scholarship money?! You little brat, where did you put this semester’s scholarship?!”

The ground beneath him was cold and rough. Chi Qingzhou quickly realized—he was curled up on the ground.

Ahead of him stood an old, familiar tube-shaped apartment building.

There were no street vendors this time. Instead, a small, empty patch of concrete lay beneath the building.

He lowered his gaze and saw that his body had become much smaller.

A slightly worn short-sleeved shirt was printed with the words “Mingguang Elementary School.” His blue-and-white school uniform pants were covered in dirt and rotting vegetable scraps, with a tear at the hem.

He was ten years old again.

Chi Qingzhou tried to move his arms, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t control his limbs.

The woman, enraged by his silence, took a step forward and kicked him hard in the chest.

His chest tightened, pain flaring along his ribs, and his vision momentarily darkened.

At ten years old, he had always been weak due to malnutrition.

The woman cursed angrily, “You’re really a cursed child! We raised you this long, and this is how you repay us?! Where’s the money?”

“Hand over the money! Your brother needs to buy a computer, don’t you know that?!”

A burly man, his face thick with fat, stood beside her. He cracked the belt in his hands, the sound slicing through the air before he swung it down viciously onto the child curled on the ground.

Welts quickly layered over Chi Qingzhou’s back, neck, arms—even his face.

The burning pain spread throughout his body, merging into a dull numbness.

A few elderly men and women sat at the entrance of the apartment building, cracking sunflower seeds as they watched the scene unfold with keen interest.

Their eyes held nothing but excitement and curiosity—no sympathy whatsoever.

Chi Qingzhou shielded his head, trapped within this small body, able to make only the tiniest expressions, completely unable to fight back.

The system let out a playful hum, stabbing at his heart with its words. “Aw, poor little thing~ Your parents didn’t love you, your life must’ve been so miserable. Beaten just for using your scholarship money to pay for meals. You must have suffered a lot, huh?”

Chi Qingzhou said nothing.

The pain burned through his skin, but his emotions remained eerily calm.

The system was greatly disappointed.

It snickered and adjusted Chi Qingzhou’s vision, deliberately forcing him to look straight ahead.

There, standing by the apartment building, were his biological parents, their expressions full of contempt.

Memories from that year resurfaced in Chi Qingzhou’s mind.

Their voices overlapped perfectly with the conversation he had overheard when he was ten.

“How could he be rolling around on the ground like that? He doesn’t look like our child at all.”

“If he can’t even handle a little family conflict, he’d be useless even if we took him back. With that kind of personality, how could he ever build good connections?”

Both of them frowned deeply, muttering complaints.

Then, as they noticed his gaze, their faces immediately changed.

“He’s looking at us?!”

“How manipulative.” Father Chi turned away, his tone indifferent. “His fate is just bad. If it weren’t, he wouldn’t have ended up like this. He’s not like Qingning—he can’t bring any benefits to the family. There’s no reason to take him back.”

Mother Chi agreed, “He’s completely unpresentable. Even if we brought him back, people would just laugh at us. Let’s go before he latches onto us.”

Without hesitation, the two turned and left—never once looking back.

The system gasped in exaggerated surprise. “So your parents knew all along that Chi Qingning wasn’t their real son? And they still didn’t take you back—just because of some nonsense about ‘bad fate’?”

It coaxed, “Host, don’t you feel even a little bit of hatred? Chi Qingning stole the happiness that should have been yours. Don’t you want to take your life back?”

A long whistle sounded. The system, peering beyond the illusion, saw the suddenly berserk undead. Its tone became even more gleeful.

“Be reborn, Host! As long as you make that choice, I’ll help you!”