TRYMBPIETM 26: The Ancient Tree’s Deep Shade(20)

Chi Qingning hadn’t expected such a blunder, and his heart sank slowly.

It wasn’t even 8:15 yet—why had the livestream room been turned on?

Could it really be…some unscientific factor at work?

And if so, from which angle was the camera pointed?

In an instant, several camera positions unfavorable to him flashed through Chi Qingning’s mind. Beads of sweat trickled down from his forehead, stinging his eyes.

His earlier subtle movements weren’t exactly covert. The way he deliberately dislocated d his elbow and ankle so adeptly—and having previously decisively given up on going back to rescue Song Yuzhi—if any of that were caught on camera, the consequences would be unthinkable.

Random bystanders and fans would criticize him as ungrateful, question everything he had ever done, and might even scrutinize every mishap from his past with a magnifying glass.

If anyone believed he had a criminal record, what awaited him would be far more than just a collapse of his public image.

Just the thought of related discussions already trending online made Chi Qingning’s vision go dark in waves.

No, he couldn’t just sit and wait for his doom.

He had to think of a solution.

Chi Qingning glanced sideways at Chi Qingzhou not far away, inwardly suspecting that this must be Chi Qingzhou’s revenge.

Yes—if Chi Qingzhou could handle those unscientific zombies, tampering with the livestream would be a piece of cake, right?

After all, he might not even be human; possessing some special techniques—what could be so strange about that?

Clenching his fists tightly so as not to betray the slightest tremor, Chi Qingning tried to steady himself.

The director ran over in a panic, only a few paces away. Grabbing a crew member’s shoulder, he kept asking what on earth was going on.

Shooting a variety show wasn’t easy—and if something unscientific were broadcast that forced them to take it down, he’d be beside himself with grief!

The assistant director was also scared, sweating profusely as he hurried over with Lu Man, checking all the data on the equipment and the livestream backend.

Half a minute later, he and the director heaved a sigh of relief and high-fived.

“That’s great! The livestream started at 7:43. It automatically shut off ten minutes ago, so almost no close-up shots were recorded!”

The most dramatic scene was that of the live zombie entering the farmhouse.

But it moved too nimbly—it looked more like a human with special effects makeup. And coupled with Chi Qingzhou’s earlier comment, “Make sure the post-production team adds subtitles,” not many viewers took it seriously.

Everyone assumed it was a deliberately arranged special segment by the production team. They even discussed who the makeup artist was, praising the high level of skill, and wondered if the sudden gimmick was a departure from the originally warm and leisurely variety-show style.

The director was practically weeping with joy.

Chi Qingzhou had saved all of them—and the show itself—from disaster. The director vowed in his heart, “I’ll remember this favor forever! If I get the chance, I’ll repay Teacher Chi with everything I’ve got!”

Lu Man’s eyes flashed as he discreetly glanced at Chi Qingning. Patting the director on the shoulder, he began to contemplate the perfect moment to help clarify Chi Qingzhou’s true identity.

Chi Qingning, however, paid no mind to the shifting attitudes of the director and Lu Man—the huge boulder in his heart suddenly crashed down.

He carefully recalled the details from a little over ten minutes ago and was convinced that he had been desperately fleeing from the zombies. To his surprise, his actions hadn’t been recorded!

Not once—twice, in fact, nothing was caught on camera!

Chi Qingning forced himself to keep his expression steady, not daring to let his joy show too obviously.

He lifted his eyes and began to search around for the medic accompanying the crew, trying to calm his excited heart.

Then a sigh—a mix of disappointment and exhaustion—echoed above his head.

Song Yuzhi’s voice, hoarse and rough, said, “Chi Qingning, you’ve deceived me again.”

Chi Qingning’s eyes narrowed in delight, and his face turned a bit blank.

Seeing this, Song Yuzhi’s disappointment deepened even further.

Though not very perceptive himself, Song Yuzhi was an acceptable actor—having luckily won a few awards and gained some insight along the way. But no matter how hard Chi Qingning tried to cover it up, to Song Yuzhi his acting was as good as nonexistent.

And it was precisely because of this that the man, who had already softened his heart, suddenly felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him—leaving him utterly humiliated.

This was his first love.

The person he though was his soulmate.

How ridiculous.

Song Yuzhi let out a self-mocking laugh, his tone bitter: “Am I really that easy to fool?”

Chi Qingning was so shocked by those two words that his mind went blank. Almost numb, he turned his head slowly, his gaze fixed blankly.

Song Yuzhi understood.

How could Song Yuzhi possibly know?

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

He understood Song Yuzhi’s meaning all too well.

Song Yuzhi already knew that the earlier commentary had come from someone else. Chi Qingning’s secret investigation into Song Yuzhi’s preferences—done covertly—had likely been exposed as well.

But aside from Chi Qingning himself and Mr. Ming—the person who assisted in investigating Song Yuzhi—only the assistant who had sold Song Yuzhi’s schedule and fan memorabilia knew about it.

Once that assistant got the money, Mr. Ming promptly sent him abroad, so there was no chance he could ever reveal the truth to Song Yuzhi.

Then how did Song Yuzhi know?

Instinctively, Chi Qingning glanced again at Chi Qingzhou, his face turning as pale as paper.

At first, when his parents had intended to bring Chi Qingzhou home, he hadn’t cared much. After all, the country bumpkin from a small place wasn’t worth getting angry about.

But when his parents planned to have Chi Qingzhou get close to Song Yuzhi, he couldn’t allow the Song family to become Chi Qingzhou’s allies. That’s when he resolved to secure good relations with Song Yuzhi first.

Song Yuzhi was a man of integrity, with the demeanor of an old cadre. Chi Qingning didn’t have much time, and after careful consideration, he ultimately decided to take an unconventional approach.

Among Song Yuzhi’s team, there was an assistant with extensive experience, greedy and fond of gambling.

This assistant had been secretly selling Song Yuzhi’s used personal items and stealing expensive gifts that fans sent to the studio. However, his actions were done carefully, so neither Song Yuzhi nor his manager had noticed.

Among the many luxury items he had stolen, one particular hardbound notebook, which could be bought for no more than fifteen yuan, caught Chi Qingning’s attention.

What kind of notebook could be so important to someone so greedy?

Chi Qingning used threats and enticements to buy the notebook at a high price, only to discover it was the belonging of an old fan of Song Yuzhi.

The old fan was nicknamed “Great Shaman Ah Lai” and was said to have guided Song Yuzhi on many occasions to help him break through in his acting. This person held significant meaning to Song Yuzhi.

After reading the notes, Chi Qingning realized that the critiques were sharp and insightful, which made him start to wonder.

He worked hard to learn and imitate Great Shaman Ah Lai’s thinking, and indeed, he seized an opportunity in the “WanXiang” drama and quickly became Song Yuzhi’s first love.

At the time, he was highly satisfied, but now, he was filled with dread.

He had once thought that death was the end, and once the notebook was in his hands, there would be no evidence, ensuring his invincibility forever.

However, everything he encountered today suggested that death was not the end.

Did Song Yuzhi learn these secrets through some unscientific means?

A wave of immense panic seized Chi Qingning’s mind, and for a moment, he even forgot how to breathe.

Song Yuzhi, seeing his changed expression, had completely lost his patience.

He no longer bothered to speak to Chi Qingning and turned to walk toward Chi Qingzhou.

Chi Qingning dazedly glanced at his retreating figure.

He almost forgot that even though the previous small actions hadn’t been captured in the live broadcast, Song Yuzhi knew everything.

If Song Yuzhi revealed these things…

Chi Qingning lowered his head, his gaze slowly turning cold as ice.

…

Chi Qingzhou casually found a bench to sit on, swinging his legs, his expression light and relaxed.

At this moment, the entire rural inn was filled with various condensed emotions, especially Chi Qingning, who seemed like a huge moving supply source, continuously providing “medicine” to heal his soul.

Xing Shuangzhan was busy categorizing the emotions and stuffing them into shadows. Chi Qingzhou watched, and his dimples became more pronounced as he smiled.

He playfully stepped on the shadows, softly saying, “I declare, this is Zhou Zhou’s Happy House!”

Xing Shuangzhan laughed and sighed, “You’re being mischievous again.”

Chi Qingzhou smiled even more happily.

Xu Xinxin hesitated and cautiously walked over, calling Chi Qingzhou’s name and thanking him.

If it hadn’t been for Chi Qingzhou’s special instruction earlier, several guests might have pulled her intentionally or unintentionally. When the zombies were chasing earlier, she might have been the first to become a victim.

Chi Qingzhou didn’t accept her thanks, only saying, “You’re lucky. Even if I didn’t say anything, you wouldn’t have actually gotten hurt.”

Xu Xinxin insisted, “But what you said really helped a lot. I know you, Teacher Chi, are low-key and don’t want to take credit, but I can’t be ungrateful.”

She would definitely find a way to repay Chi Qingzhou.

Song Yuzhi returned and happened to hear Xu Xinxin’s words, feeling somewhat comforted in his heart.

He nodded at Xu Xinxin kindly, thanked Chi Qingzhou again, and then asked, “Teacher Chi, yesterday you said I have fate with Ah Lai, and I could help him. I was wondering how ?”

Chi Qingning’s reaction had triggered his deep nostalgia for Ah Lai. Even though he knew it might be dangerous, at that moment, Song Yuzhi desperately wanted to meet this true confidant.

Chi Qingzhou propped his chin with one hand and hummed, “No need to thank me. Helping Ah Lai is not urgent. Teacher Song, you should go see a doctor about your knee first, rest a bit.”

It wasn’t even 8:30 yet, and after a while, they would enter the mountains, likely reaching the PuLuo tribe’s territory before noon.

Chi Qingzhou said, “You should trust fate. Intuition is a mysterious thing.”

Song Yuzhi, though somewhat unclear, was still deeply touched by Chi Qingzhou’s thoughtfulness.

Chi Qingning hadn’t noticed that he had hurt his knee, but Chi Qingzhou had remembered.

He bowed to Chi Qingzhou and, along with Xu Xinxin, went to find the doctor accompanying the group.

The director and producer, sitting nearby, were tending to wounds when they heard that Chi Qingzhou intended to go into the mountains soon, immediately showing disapproval.

The director stretched his neck, cautiously asking, “Teacher Chi, what are you planning to do in the mountains? Isn’t the fog cleared already? Wouldn’t it be better for us to return to the county town early?”

The producer also said, “This village doesn’t seem too safe. Shouldn’t we leave now that the fog is gone?”

Chi Qingzhou didn’t get angry and smiled, “You can try, see if you can leave.”

The group exchanged confused glances, their expressions turning more serious.

Hearing that there was no danger in the village at this moment, a few brave staff hesitated for a moment but still followed the determined Ling Jiao, who was on a mission to find her cousin.

The five of them left the rural inn and, as expected, did not encounter any further obstacles or illusions, entering the village smoothly.

They found Ling Jiao’s cousin at the village entrance. The young girl had stable life signs but had fainted for an unknown reason, tightly clutching a package of clothes.

Ling Jiao’s eyes reddened immediately as she kicked aside the package, helped her cousin up, and hurried back.

One of the staff members helped support the young girl, and the rest tried multiple times to leave the village, but they couldn’t.

The three of them returned to the rural inn, still observing the village in between their efforts.

Soon, they noticed that everyone in the village, including Ling Jiao’s cousin, had mysteriously fainted. Some had collapsed by the roadside, with bumps on their foreheads.

The entire village was eerily quiet, except for an old house by the main road, where a woman was sitting at the doorstep.

This woman had delicate and beautiful features, and in her eyes, one could vaguely see the youthfulness from when she was younger.

She sat on the threshold, her eyes unnaturally bright, her laugh raspy and insane.

“Retribution… retribution!” she repeated, her voice filled with strange joy.

The three of them felt chills down their spines and hurriedly retreated, running away as fast as they could.

The woman didn’t get up to chase them but simply watched them go with a meaningful look, her smile growing even more eerie.

The three of them, pulling each other along, rushed back to the rural inn. Upon meeting the director, they quickly explained what they had just seen.

The director and others, who had initially hoped to leave Yinping Village soon, changed their expressions when they heard the description.

The producer helplessly said, “What exactly is going on?”

No one knew the answer and all instinctively looked at Chi Qingzhou.

Chi Qingzhou did not answer.

The woman who was awake was likely Zhu Yantong’s master’s wife, Great Shaman NuoQi.

From the description, whether she was truly insane or not was still uncertain.

He walked over to Song Yuzhi’s side, confirming that Song Yuzhi’s knee injury was just a bruise and that it didn’t affect his bones or muscles, so it wouldn’t hinder his movements. He pulled Song Yuzhi up from the bench.

“Let’s go,” Chi Qingzhou said. “Ah Lai is a great shaman, and Nuoqi is also a great shaman. She should know something. We should meet her first.”

Song Yuzhi, still confused, nodded and quickly got up, following Chi Qingzhou.

…

At the same time, outside Yinping Village.

The rescue team dispatched by the Paranormal Control Bureau was entirely from Qunqing Province, and in just over ten minutes, they arrived at their destination using special means.

The nine members tried to break through the barrier outside Yinping Village using their usual methods. They switched between three different approaches, but none of them succeeded.

The team leader was thrown off balance by the barrier, forcing himself to swallow the blood in his mouth as he stared at a few lush locust trees at the village entrance, his brows tightly furrowed.

The deputy team leader’s face was pale as she pressed against her aching chest, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

“Captain, something’s wrong. The pressure here is too strong. My danger sense isn’t working at all. I feel like I could die at any moment!”

She was a well-known mystic in Qunqing Province, and her sense of danger was among the best in the Paranormal Control Bureau, having helped comrades avoid deadly risks multiple times.

Hearing her words, the team leader’s expression darkened. “Where’s the detector? Quickly check the data from Yinping Village!”

A few members quickly set up the equipment, and three minutes later, the results came in.

The entire village, including the nearby Yuhua Mountains, was surrounded by dense negative energy, resentment, and ghostly energy.

The originally clear mountain spiritual energy had mixed with it, not suppressing those energies but instead causing the situation to become more chaotic.

The values displayed on the instruments had already exceeded the danger threshold by three times, and the shrill alarm echoed through the valley, causing everyone’s faces to become grim.

The team leader whispered, “I remember that after all the great shamans of the Pu Luo tribe die, they can turn into ghostly deities, right?”

The deputy team leader nodded.

“Yes.”

The team leader closed his eyes briefly, then made a decisive decision: “Send a rescue report to headquarters immediately! I suspect that a fully matured PuLuo ghost deity has undergone mutation!”

Mutated ghost deity were only slightly weaker than apocalyptic-grade ghosts. Some with deep accumulations could even fight on par with such ghosts!

Everyone’s hearts trembled, and they glanced fearfully at the direction of Yuhua Mountain, quickly getting to work.

The Paranormal Control Bureau had been closely monitoring the situation in Yinping Village. Upon receiving the report, it sent shockwaves through the entire organization.

They disregarded the mockery and disdain from the Xuanxu Sect and quickly mobilized all available top-tier forces, directly opening the underworld passage to travel along the Yin Road to Yinping Village.

The Xuanxu Sect couldn’t sit idly by and sent several elites to assist.

Dozens of people rushed to the village outskirts at top speed, only to encounter the same problem as the rescue team—

They couldn’t get in, blocked by the eerie barrier.

Everyone understood what this meant. TheParanormal Control Bureau members tested several times but still couldn’t break the barrier.

An old Taoist priest wearing a dark robe shook his head, his tone heavy, “Ghost deities^[1] may not be as powerful as True gods^[2], but they are still divine beings. This is no longer within our scope to handle. To completely resolve it, we can only rely on that young friend still in the village.”

Both sides knew that the “young friend” referred to Chi Qingzhou. Although the Paranormal Control Bureau members were gravely concerned, they couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of hope.

Several elites from the Xuanxu Sect looked at them sideways. Apart from Shen Wenxu, the others didn’t hide their disdain.

An ordinary person who just happened to attach himself to Xing Su, what was so special about him?

After serving Xing Su for so many years  but have not received any special treatment, they doubted whether this Chi Qingzhou would last long under Xing Su’s influence.

Perhaps, if he encountered danger, Xing Su might not even come to his rescue.

Maybe when danger strikes, Xing Su won’t even lift a finger to help.

Not wanting others to see through his thoughts, the old priest leading the group from the Xuanxu Sect turned around, slightly embarrassed by Shen Wenxu’s gaze, and instructed, “Alright, stop watching the excitement! Let’s start the sacrificial ceremony. Is the person for the prayer ready”‘

Shen Wenxu, feeling a little anxious, quickly grabbed him. “Senior Uncle, uh, Chi Qingzhou is still with the Xing Ghost King…”

The old priest didn’t care and ignored the cold glares from the members of the Paranormal Control Bureau. He mocked, “A backroads practitioner, what can he possibly do? Let’s survive first and talk later.'”