TRYMBPIETM 20: The Ancient Tree’s Deep Shade(14)

The Great Shaman Ah Lai.

Song Yuzhi knew that this old fan left a deep impression on him.

Other fans liked him mostly for his appearance or the roles he played, but this old fan was different.

The reason he became his fan was quite mysterious—he felt that they were fated to meet.

At that time, Song Yuzhi had just started filming his first TV drama, a complete newcomer with no prior works.

He had connections, and most of the artists in the crew were polite to him on the surface, but behind his back, there wasn’t a single kind word.

After filming, he was basically alone, even eating lunch by himself in a corner.

This old fan was collecting materials for a thesis in the crew at the time. Upon seeing him, he walked straight over and greeted him with a smile.

Song Yuzhi could barely recall what they had talked about, but he remembered him saying that he wanted to become his fan.

He thanked him but didn’t fully understand, casually asking why.

The old fan smiled, his mixed-race face backlit, with an expression that seemed profound.

“Perhaps it’s because I feel we’re fated. Maybe one day, you’ll help me out of a difficult situation.”

Song Yuzhi thought the old fan was humorous, patting him on the shoulder and saying, “Alright, seeing that you’re my first fan, I’ll definitely help you out if that day comes.”

However, after the old fan graduated from university, he returned to his hometown. They only saw each other once more during a fan movie invitation event, but they didn’t talk much before the old fan left.

Song Yuzhi vaguely remembered that the fan had answered a phone call, then declined to join the subsequent events, hurriedly leaving to catch a flight.

Other fans from the support club said that the old fan’s family had encountered some trouble, but Song Yuzhi didn’t know whether it was true.

“Later on, I saw his obituary and found out that he had passed away.”

Song Yuzhi’s mood grew even lower as he thought about the fan.

“Dai Ge, why did you suddenly bring him up? Did something happen?”

The manager had started working with Song Yuzhi when he was filming his third TV drama and didn’t know that he and the old fan had already known each other.

Upon hearing Song Yuzhi’s words, the manager no longer hesitated and directly informed Song Yuzhi about the situation the support club had reported.

Finally, he said, “Yuzhi, I’ve always avoided interfering in your friendships, but Chi Qingning went too far this time. This Ah Lai not only was your old fan, but he’s also passed away. For him to steal something from someone who has passed…”

The manager clicked his tongue in disdain. “He’s not afraid of being haunted by the victim in the middle of the night.”

Song Yuzhi didn’t respond.

He was already stunned by his manager’s words, staring blankly at the wall, completely unable to process.

Stolen?

Chi Qingning’s profound reviews were stolen?

Stolen from his first fan?

How could this be?

Song Yuzhi’s mind was a mess. He wanted to argue that he didn’t believe it. Chi Qingning had spoken so fluently, logically, and deeply about these topics, how could such profound insights have been learned from someone else?

But his first fan held a significant place in his heart and had already passed away, so he couldn’t bring himself to believe that his old fan was involved.

The manager, knowing Song Yuzhi’s personality, immediately took out the evidence compiled by the big fans of the support club and gave him a hard blow.

“I had someone check, and it turns out the viewing notes and internal accounts that your old fan frequently posted have recently ended up in Chi Qingning’s hands.”

“There’s also one more thing we need to discuss. I’ve sent you the materials. After you’ve looked over them, I’ll explain everything in more detail.”

Song Yuzhi held his phone with trembling hands, feeling a heaviness in his chest.

At this moment, he didn’t really dare to open the images and videos.

He didn’t know what result he wanted.

After spending time in the Wanxiang crew, he was certain that he had developed feelings for Chi Qingning.

He was 31 years old and was experiencing his first crush, not wanting his first love to be labeled as a thief.

But the meaning of his old fan was also different.

Additionally, since this matter involved other fans from the support club, if they were all lying together, the result would not be what he wanted to see.

His fans may not be excellent or united, but they cannot lack the bottom line as human beings.

Song Yuzhi gave a bitter smile.

Perhaps it was because he was so indecisive that his grandfather chose his sister to inherit the Song family despite some opposition. In this regard, his sister was far stronger than him.

He shook his head, pacing around the room. It was so uncomfortable that he picked up his phone and a cigarette box, opened the door, and went outside to clear his mind.

…

The moonlight was clear tonight.

Chi Qingzhou finished washing his face in the room, gazing at the bright moonlight outside and the shifting shadows in the distance, unable to help but smile.

He stepped on his shadow, “Looks like we have guests tonight, Su Ge.”

Xing Shuangzhan walked out from the shadow, lazily leaning against him. “That ghost tamer is still at the Puluo clan’s territory; only these small things were sent over.”

Chi Qingzhou sniffed.

It was the scent of resentment, yin energy, and death.

But it seemed there was no trace of energy similar to Xing Shuangzhan’s.

He spoke with a hint of complaint: “Can’t I eat these?”

Xing Shuangzhan gently stroked his neck. “Be good, don’t eat dirty things. It’ll upset your stomach.”

Chi Qingzhou sighed deeply, feeling sorrowful.

“What a pity. They smell so sweet, yet eating them only worsens my injury.”

Xing Shuangzhan smiled. “Because you’re a kind person.”

Chi Qingzhou: “Alright.” He thought of himself as a good person too.

He put down the towel, put on his coat, and quietly went downstairs.

The farmhouse had installed many small colored lights, strung in rows on the walls. At night, they would all light up together, creating a joyful atmosphere.

But tonight, under the bright moonlight, the lights that should have been colorful looked faded, and the glow was eerily white.

In the distance, slender shadows kept flickering.

Chi Qingzhou’s shadow shifted under the light, slowly expanding.

Sharp angles interlocked, reaching out from the shadows, slowly unfolding like a large net, spreading to every corner.

The ground suddenly became damp, and many buildings’ surfaces silently sprouted what looked like mold stains, which from a distance appeared to be many eyes.

It was clearly a night nearing early summer, but the night breeze, carrying a damp chill, made the trees outside the farmhouse rustle.

A sweet fragrance spread through the air. Chi Qingzhou’s shadow grinned, releasing the suppressed tension from the past few days.

The screams, inaudible to ordinary people, echoed in the night, while Xing Shuangzhan supported his shoulder, casually walking with him in the yard.

“Feeling happier now?” Xing Shuangzhan smiled and asked, “Why are you dragging them into your shadow?”

Chi Qingzhou tilted his head, his gaze serious: “What if there’s a ghost tamer with the same origin as you inside?”

Xing Shuangzhan laughed even more, sighing softly: “You really… are always so obsessed with things like this.”

“Hmm—” Chi Qingzhou dragged out the sound. “Being a little obsessed isn’t a bad thing. I think I’ve really caught a ghost tamer with the same origin as you.”

Xing Shuangzhan raised his brows in surprise, turning back to the shadows to take a closer look. “Indeed. This ghost tamer is a bit strange. Let me check.”

Chi Qingzhou agreed, and just then, a hoarse voice called out from the distance.

“Who’s there?”

Chi Qingzhou stepped forward, and Song Yuzhi was crouched by a long bench in the farmhouse yard, holding his phone in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other.

He glanced back, his expression downcast, his eyes filled with frustration, his whole body exuding a sense of dejection.

“Ah… it’s Teacher Xiao Chi.” He instinctively flicked the ash from his cigarette, elbow resting on his knee as he stood up.

Probably because he had been crouching for too long, his legs had gone numb, and as he stood up suddenly, he wobbled and almost stumbled forward.

The half-smoked cigarette fell to the ground, rolling a little distance away before it went out.

Chi Qingzhou grabbed his collar, pulling him back, and inadvertently glanced at his still-illuminated phone screen, giving a soft “Eh.”

Song Yuzhi, still shaken, thanked him: “Thank you, Teacher Xiao Chi. Are you unable to sleep and out for a walk?”

Chi Qingzhou looked at the phone tightly clutched in his hand, answering a question with a question: “Do you know Ah Lai?”

Song Yuzhi: “Ah…?”

He was stunned for a moment before remembering that he hadn’t turned off his phone. He glanced at the open photo and hesitated before nodding.

“Does Teacher Xiao Chi know my fan?”

“Ah Lai is my friend.”

Chi Qingzhou shifted his gaze to Song Yuzhi, staring at his face with a probing expression.

This afternoon, he had seen Song Yuzhi’s face.

It wasn’t anything special—a typical young man from a wealthy family, with a promising future. Even if there were small setbacks, he would soon have someone to help him out, living a smooth life.

However, in just about an hour since the end of the livestream, Song Yuzhi’s face had already changed significantly.

There was a layer of grayish blue around his forehead, and his right eyebrow had a scratch, either from a branch or something else, leaving a scar that seemed to break off the tail of his brow.

A calamity was coming, and without any benefactor to help him, he was basically doomed, potentially dragging his sister into it too.

But perhaps because disaster had struck, some blurred aspects of his fate had emerged.

Chi Qingzhou nodded, understanding. It turned out, the opportunity he was waiting for was here.

“Then… did Ah Lai ever tell you that you were his fated person^[1]?”

Song Yuzhi blinked in shock, eyes wide: “How do you know?!”

The conversation he had with his old fan years ago had only the two of them knowing about it. He had never told anyone, so did… Ah Lai tell Chi Qingzhou about it?

He hesitated again, confirming: “Do you really know him? But my old fan passed away a few years ago—”

“Oh, he passed away five years ago.”

Chi Qingzhou brushed over this topic, which he felt wasn’t very important, speaking in a soft tone.

“Looks like he talked about it with you. When he met you, did he ever say that one day, you might need to help him?”

Song Yuzhi, still in a daze, nodded vaguely.

It seems that Song Yuzhi’s participation in “Scenery Along the Way” was no accident.

Chi Qingzhou smiled, his beautiful peach blossom eyes curving into crescents.

“Teacher Song, the time when you might need to help is probably here. You should’ve promised Ah Lai already, right? I can see the karmic bond between you two.”

“Wait, wait!” Song Yuzhi felt his brain not working, “Didn’t he pass away?”

If he’s no longer here, how could he help?

Could it be that his family needs help?

Chi Qingzhou gave him a strange look: “Teacher Song, what are you thinking? Ah Lai is from the Puluo clan.”

Song Yuzhi: “What’s wrong with the Puluo clan?”

Chi Qingzhou: “The Puluo clan can cultivate deities and spirits. Death has never been the end for them.”

Song Yuzhi: “……” Deities and spirits? That’s all fake, right?

Chi Qingzhou tilted his head, still smiling so gently and innocently: “So Teacher Song doesn’t believe. That’s okay. Seeing is believing. Would you like to see for yourself?”

Song Yuzhi was completely stunned: “W-Wait, what?”