TRYMBPIETM 14: The Ancient Tree’s Deep Shade(8)

The sudden accident not only alarmed Tang Qichen’s fans but also left ordinary viewers on edge.

They frantically tried to alert Tang Qichen and called out to the production team, but the show had previously set a rule that guests couldn’t use their phones while completing tasks. As a result, Tang Qichen had no way of seeing the barrage of comments flooding the live chat.

Instead, he looked at Chi Qingzhou in confusion. His gaze met Chi Qingzhou’s hazy peach blossom eyes, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious.

He had originally intended to stand up, but under Chi Qingzhou’s gaze, he suddenly felt a little restrained. Holding onto his roujiamo with both hands, he obediently remained seated on a stone beneath the tree, his expression taking on a somewhat honest and naive look.

Lowering his voice instinctively, he asked, “Did something happen?”

Under normal circumstances, his fans would have joked about how he looked like an elementary school student, but right now, no one was paying attention to such details. They were simply relieved that he hadn’t startled the snake.

【Qichen, stay still! Don’t move! Don’t provoke the snake!】

【What kind of snake is this? Judging by its color, it should be a nocturnal species. But it’s the middle of the day—why is it here?!】

【It looks a bit like an Indian krait, but kraits don’t climb trees, and their patterns don’t look like that. Is this some kind of new species??】

【Now’s not the time to care about the species! Haven’t you noticed that its fangs are already slightly bared?!】

【Qichen, don’t move! Qichen, don’t move! Qichen, don’t move!】

【It’s not just about staying still—I think the snake has locked onto Tang Qichen. It’s not in a hunting posture, but it’s clearly focused on him. I fear that Qichen might have unknowingly provoked it. This situation… is really dangerous.】

【Damn it, what is the production team doing?! Why hasn’t the rescue team arrived yet?! I don’t care, I’m calling 110 right now!】

Viewers were in a panic, and even through their screens, they could feel an eerie sense of dread. The fear spread like wildfire across the live stream chat.

Chi Qingzhou, sensing the faint scent of fear in the air, did not respond to Tang Qichen. Instead, his gaze swept over Tang Qichen’s face before shifting to the large tree behind him.

Tang Qichen had an excellent facial structure—his forehead was full, a sign of natural wealth and fortune. He had a classic appearance that indicated both prosperity and longevity.

Before reaching adulthood, he had experienced a minor calamity, but he had passed through it safely. From then on, his life should have been smooth sailing.

That wasn’t to say he would never face troubles, but an incident that could endanger his life shouldn’t have occurred.

Clearly, someone had set their sights on Tang Qichen.

Was it Zhu Yantong?

Sending a snake after him—what exactly was he trying to do?

Chi Qingzhou narrowed his eyes slightly and examined the snake in the tree.

It was a blackish-brown krait with eerie yellow-white bands forming strange, intricate patterns. Its scales shimmered, its girth was even, and it was approximately 1.3 meters long.

At first glance, it resembled an Indian krait, but the markings on its back were unusual—twisted, screaming human faces, grotesque and unsettling.

A textbook example of a creature created through dark sorcery.

For the first time, Chi Qingzhou’s smile faded, and he displayed a rare, solemn expression.

His shadow flickered, obscuring everyone’s perception—both human and non-human—except for himself and Xing Shuangzhan.

“Su-ge, this snake is strange,” he called out to the being slumbering within his shadow. “It carries a similar aura to those two ghost-controlling entities. Take a look—does it share the same origin as you?”

Xing Shuangzhan yawned lazily and sat up from the darkness, one arm draped around Chi Qingzhou’s slender waist, the other idly playing with his hair.

“Why so serious, calling me by my full name all of a sudden?” he mused. “It’s just a spirit-fed ghost serpent. A mere trinket. No need to be so tense.”

The name “Xing Shuangzhan” wasn’t actually his formal title.

To the outside world, those aware of this world-ending specter referred to him as “Xing Su.” Even his subordinates addressed him as “Mr. Su.”

Only Chi Qingzhou, back when he was still a child, had mischievously given him this nickname^[1].

Xing Shuangzhan didn’t care much about names, but he did love hearing Chi Qingzhou call him that.

There was something intriguing about the way he said it—intimate and familiar.

Chi Qingzhou, his voice light as a feather, repeated, “Su-ge.”

Xing Shuangzhan immediately raised both hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I was wrong. I should take this more seriously. Yes, it does carry the same ghostly aura as those two ghost-contolling beings.”

Chi Qingzhou frowned. “It also has traces of Ah lai’s energy.”

Ah lai was a friend of Chi Qingzhou’s—a member of the Puluo tribe. Currently, he existed in a post-mortem state, cultivating his soul, yet to reach the deity-like state that his people aspired to.

By Puluo customs, those undergoing soul cultivation were not to interact with any external beings—not just humans, but any living creatures.

So how had this snake absorbed Ah lai’s energy?

Chi Qingzhou suspected that something had happened to Ah lai.

His current circumstances might not be good.

Xing Shuangzhan gently kneaded the nape of Chi Qingzhou’s neck in reassurance. “Don’t worry. This is a ghost serpent—it’s long dead. A ghost serpent isn’t truly alive and wouldn’t disturb your friend.”

Xing Shuangzhan was a naturally indifferent person, never caring who Chi Qingzhou befriended.

To him, Chi Qingzhou’s friends were mere ornaments, embellishing his personality. Whether those small creatures lived or died, Xing Shuangzhan wouldn’t give them a second thought.

He only cared about what Chi Qingzhou cared about, and to Chi Qingzhou, he was the only one who mattered.

Chi Qingzhou’s other half—a shadowy extension of his soul—reached out and smacked Xing Shuangzhan hard.

Xing Shuangzhan let out an amused chuckle before straightening his posture. “Ghost serpents are different from ghost-controlling beings. They are forcefully fed into existence by sorcerers. Their energy is easy to reclaim. Just break its energy node, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Chi Qingzhou nodded. “Understood.”

In the blink of an eye, Xing Shuangzhan retreated into Chi Qingzhou’s shadow, his ghostly presence vanishing.

Their conversation had seemed lengthy, but in reality, they had exchanged only a few words within seconds.

Meanwhile, the snake continued to fix its gaze on Tang Qichen, coiled and ready to strike, yet mysteriously hesitating.

Many viewers, despite their discomfort, started discussing whether Tang Qichen could slowly retreat beyond the snake’s striking range. Some sought professional advice, each trying to help in their own way.

The sheer intensity of their collective will and concern gathered into a tangible force—so much so that even the knowledgeable Chi Qingzhou glanced briefly at the live-stream camera.

He allowed the corners of his lips to lift slightly before reaching out.

Invisible to the human eye, a thin veil of crimson energy formed in his palm.

Then, shifting his posture slightly atop the dead tree trunk, he flicked his fingers toward the underbrush, swiftly caught a small, sharp-edged stone.

Just as Tang Qichen unconsciously leaned forward, the snake struck—its fangs bared, lunging straight for the back of his neck!

Screams erupted from both the cameraman and the live chat.

Time slowed down at this moment.

Tang Qichen’s mind was filled with chaotic thoughts—flashes of regret, yet at the same time, an empty calm, as if he wasn’t thinking about anything at all. A kind of peace that came with the realization that his life was about to end.

He tilted his head slightly when, all of a sudden, the sharp crack of something tearing through the air rang in his ears.

The next second, a sharp-edged stone whizzed past his earlobe like a shooting star, piercing straight through the snake’s vital point!

Blood splattered, filling the air with a foul, metallic scent.

The venomous snake, struck fatally, twitched midair, lunging forward a bit further due to inertia before finally losing all strength and slipping lifelessly from the tree.

Its fangs never reached Tang Qichen.

The cold, scaly body brushed past his shoulder as it fell. Tang Qichen froze for two seconds before suddenly leaping up from the boulder.

Whipping his head around, he looked at Chi Qingzhou. Chi Qingzhou chuckled softly, his posture relaxed as he withdrew his hand—the one that had flicked the stone.

From within Chi Qingzhou’s shadow, Xing Shuangzhan extended a wisp of ghostly energy, swiftly capturing the escaping spirit and ghostly aura from the snake’s corpse, pulling them directly back into the shadows.

The snake’s body twitched once before going completely still.

The entire process had been captured by the live-stream cameras. For several minutes, the chat was dead silent. Then, in an instant, the comments exploded.

[Thank you, Teacher Chi! Thank you for saving Qichen’s life! From today on, you are the savior of all Sweetening Agents!]

[A master! This man is a true master!]

[Holy crap, I used to think Chi Qingzhou was just strong, nothing too special. I take it back—he’s incredible! Teacher Chi is the best!]

[Thank you, Teacher Chi! Forever grateful! Sending you love! Anyone who dares to slander Teacher Chi from now on will have to go through me first!]

[The way Chi Qingzhou flicked that stone… you can tell he’s been training for a long time.]

[That was insane. I was so scared I couldn’t even watch, and then—boom! He saved the day. Unbelievable. Just unbelievable.]

[When I found out Chi Qingzhou could speak Puluo language, I was already shocked. I thought he was just a talented guy, but it turns out he’s not only smart—he’s also incredibly skilled. To be honest, with that face, that talent… if someone tried to write a fictional character like him, they wouldn’t dare make him this perfect. But he’s real.]

[I don’t know if anyone else feels this, but CQZ has a very unique presence… It’s like an ethereal quality. I’ve been thinking for a while, and I don’t think there’s anyone like him in the entertainment industry. I think he’s going to blow up.]

[Our Teacher Chi is handsome! Strong! Talented! What are you all waiting for? Invest in him now—it’s a guaranteed win!]

[I’m going to follow Teacher Chi right now!]

Amidst the overwhelming gratitude and praise, a few hesitant voices appeared in the chat.

[Uh… did anyone else notice that weird gray smoke coming out of the dead snake?]

[Am I seeing things? I swear the patterns on its back changed.]

[No way, it was just an ordinary Indian krait. I even took a screenshot earlier to compare, and I swear there was no human face pattern on its back.]

[I saw the gray smoke too! What was that?]

[Was it just my imagination? But how do you explain that eerie feeling from earlier…?]