The consecutive days of gloomy rain finally came to an end. The dark clouds slowly scattered, and a few strands of sunlight pierced through the layers to shine directly onto the dormitory windowsill.
Jiang Wei pushed open the small window, raised her head, and took a deep, lingering breath. Her face was bathed in a warm, cozy glow.
Over the weekend, her classmates had planned to go to an anime convention. Jiang Wei originally intended to tag along, but she suddenly received an invitation from Zhang Qianyu.
Having spent the morning wandering around with the group, she checked in with Zhenzhen and the others before noon, parting ways early to take a short trip over to a nearby shopping mall for her appointment.
Zhang Qianyu had mentioned wanting to treat her to a meal to express his gratitude for saving his life. Jiang Wei happened to have a genuine interest in Daoism as well, and she wanted to understand what specific roles a peach-wood sword played within the Daoist tradition. Who knows, perhaps she might discover an entirely novel use for peach-wood swords from the Daoist history he knew.
Seated inside a Japanese restaurant, Zhang Qianyu helped her order a bunch of dishes tailored to her tastes.
Naturally, he wasn’t wearing his Daoist robes today; dressed in everyday casual attire, he didn’t look like an elevated Daoist master in the slightest. Jiang Wei wanted to approach the meal with a straight and serious attitude, but every time she looked at him, she couldn’t help recalling the sight of him pinned flat on the floor by the little ghost, completely unable to move. It made her want to chuckle.
Good thing she was an actress; holding back laughter was her specialty.
While waiting for their food, Jiang Wei handed the not-so-heavy wooden sword over to Zhang Qianyu. He cupped it with both hands and brought it up close to his eyes, his movements exceptionally careful and delicate, as though he were admiring some fragile, intricate artifact.
“This weight—it’s sourced from a long-lived, ancient peach tree.” Zhang Qianyu extended a finger as straight as a wooden twig, gently brushing it across the blade, his gaze focused and burning with intensity. “Deep carvings like this are exceedingly rare. It doesn’t depict flying beasts, dragons, or phoenixes, but rather talismanic scripts and the Big Dipper…”
He closed his eyes and leaned in closer to sniff gently. “The fragrance is deep, condensed, and reserved, carrying a faint trace of worldly hearth smoke.”
It smelled as though it had been offered up in incense smoke for hundreds or even thousands of years until the scent completely soaked in, saturated to the core and impossible to ever dissipate.
The more Jiang Wei listened, the happier she became; she desperately hoped this was a priceless treasure that only belonged in the heavens.
Having inhaled enough of the peach-wood sword’s scent, Zhang Qianyu opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto the sword with even greater intensity:
“This is a seven-star peach-wood sword built on King Wen’s house-pacifying design. It wards off evil spirits, slays ghosts…”
Zhang Qianyu showered the peach-wood sword with comprehensive, all-angle praise. In his mouth, the item truly transformed into a heavenly marvel.
When Jiang Wei took the sword back, her mood was exceptionally bright. Reaching out to affectionately stroke the peach-wood sword from top to bottom, she carefully tucked it back into her canvas bag, treating it with noticeably more reverence than before.
“Master Jiang, I wonder if you might be willing to part with this sword?” After holding back for a long while, Zhang Qianyu ultimately couldn’t help himself and popped the question.
Just as he anticipated, Jiang Wei gave a decisive shake of her head.
He let out a soft sigh, knowing instantly that such a rare treasure couldn’t simply be bought with worldly wealth.
The two chatted briefly about what had happened at the Zhou family residence a few days prior. Suddenly remembering something, Zhang Qianyu hurriedly reached for an exquisite paper bag resting nearby and slid it across the table toward Jiang Wei.
Seeing the puzzled look in Jiang Wei’s eyes, he offered an embarrassed smile. “I don’t have any treasures on hand as precious as your peach-wood sword, so I could only buy a few luxury items to give you as a token of gratitude. I hope Master Jiang won’t look down on them.”
The moment Jiang Wei spotted the densely patterned logos covering the paper bag, she knew the item carried a hefty price tag. Ever since entering college, she had become intimately familiar with the Louis Vuitton emblem; Zhenzhen owned all sorts of items from this brand.
Without putting on excessive airs or false modesty, she smiled, accepted the bag, folded it down, and placed it inside her canvas bag.
Soon after, the tempura, sushi, sashimi, and various other delicacies ordered by Zhang Qianyu began arriving at the table. While none of the individual portions were large, the sheer variety of dishes made up for it, and in no time at all, their table was packed with food of every color.
They chatted idly while eating. Because Zhang Qianyu was unfailingly polite to her and shared genuinely entertaining life experiences, the two of them ended up having a surprisingly light and pleasant meal together.
When the conversation drifted toward Daoist arts and ritual implements, Zhang Qianyu spoke of them like a walking encyclopedia. Jiang Wei listened with rapt fascination, wishing she could turn all those arcane arts into reality, pull or purchase them from the dark-framed app, and let loose with them.
Summoning nether soldiers, executing thunder-fire magic, invoking the divine might of Laozi, mastering Qimen Dunjia—it was all wonderfully varied and endlessly interesting.
Yet once Zhang Qianyu finished speaking and looked up to meet Jiang Wei’s eyes, an inescapable expression of shame crept across his face.
Whenever he talked about these things in the past, he had always maintained an arrogant and carefree demeanor. But after having his bluff called by Jiang Wei a week ago, facing Jiang Wei—a genuine, real-deal master—he could no longer put on airs.
While they were eating and chatting, Zhou Fuzhen and six other classmates who had attended the anime convention happened to wander over to the exact same shopping mall for lunch.
“That Japanese restaurant’s budget is way too high. My living expenses are a bit tight lately, so let’s just go eat Western food instead,” Sun Tian said, standing in front of the directory board on this floor and checking the restaurants one by one.
“Or Thai food wouldn’t be bad either,” another female classmate chimed in.
“Chongqing hot pot is pretty good too,” Zhou Fuzhen added her suggestion.
Since everyone had their own preferences, the students decided to wander around a bit and pick whichever restaurant looked the busiest.
Sun Tian suddenly stopped walking mid-stride, pointing toward a girl visible through the Japanese-style wooden lattice windows of the Japanese restaurant. “Hey? Isn’t that Jiang Wei?”
Zhou Fuzhen poked her head forward to look—sure enough, it was her! And what’s more, both of them were familiar faces; wasn’t the other person Daoist Master Zhang?
“Let’s go, we’re eating here,” Sun Tian declared on the spot.
“Didn’t you just say your budget wasn’t enough?” the classmate who wanted Thai food asked.
“Jiang Wei is eating alone with such a handsome guy, huh? There’s no way we’re missing out on this kind of gossip,” Sun Tian said as she marched straight into the Japanese restaurant.
Taking a closer look, Zhou Fuzhen noticed that today Zhang Qianyu was dressed in stylish casual wear with his long hair half-tied back, looking like an artist. He really did look quite handsome.
As the girls walked in, the entire restaurant instantly filled with a youthful, vibrant energy.
Sun Tian took the lead by sitting down at the large table right next to Jiang Wei and Zhang Qianyu, greeting Jiang Wei with a cheerful smile.
Jiang Wei put down her chopsticks to greet her friends, then introduced Zhang Qianyu to the group: “This is Daoist Master Zhang from Mount Longhu.”
She then turned to Zhang Qianyu: “These are all my classmates. We came out together today to check out the anime convention.”
Both sides smiled and exchanged greetings. Zhou Fuzhen specifically pulled up a chair to sit close to Jiang Wei and Zhang Qianyu for a quick chat before returning to her friends to help plan their meal orders.
At first, seeing a handsome man and a beautiful woman dining alone, Sun Tian had been whispering and gossiping about whether there was a romance blossoming between them. Gradually, however, she began to notice something a bit off.
Zhang Qianyu was far too deferential toward Jiang Wei—helping her dish out food, pouring her drinks, and shifting dishes she liked closer to her side of the table. It could practically be described as “waiting on her hand and foot.”
“Is he really a life-saving benefactor?” Sun Tian asked with burning curiosity after hearing Zhou Fuzhen’s brief summary.
“Of course! A true master is right here among us,” Zhou Fuzhen said with a raised eyebrow and a nod.
“In that case, we should get Jiang Wei to help exorcise our dorm bathroom too. I swear I’ve run into something evil in there,” Sun Tian said. Of course, she had no idea that the “evil entity” she had encountered was actually Jiang Wei herself. She was already scheming about hiring Jiang Wei to perform a ritual cleanse in their restroom.
While the female classmates’ dishes were just starting to arrive, Jiang Wei’s table had already finished eating.
Since there were no afternoon activities scheduled, Jiang Wei headed straight back to the dorms, with Zhang Qianyu offering to drive her.
When the girls finished eating and went up to pay the bill, the waiter informed them that their table’s tab had already been settled—Zhang Qianyu had paid for it. Since they were friends with Master Jiang, showing this courtesy was a must.
Sun Tian gasped in utter shock. Their group had ordered a whole table full of food, yet Daoist Master Zhang had covered the entire thing.
“Holy shit, Weiwei’s pull is massive!” As they walked out of the Japanese restaurant, Sun Tian clicked her tongue in amazement. As students who hadn’t yet entered the real world, this was their first time witnessing the open-handed generosity and deep pockets of working adults.
Zhou Fuzhen proudly lifted her chin. “Well, obviously.”
…
Not long after Jiang Wei returned to her dorm, Zhou Fuzhen and the others arrived back as well.
Zhenzhen looked over the scarf Zhang Qianyu had gifted, curled her lip, and gave a nod. “Not bad. I’d say Daoist Master Zhang has decent taste, and his sincerity is passable. This scarf really suits you.”
Sun Tian and the others weren’t just focusing on the expensive scarf; they chattered excitedly, first bombarding Jiang Wei with questions out of curiosity about her celestial master abilities, then clamoring to see her peach-wood sword.
Sun Tian even earnestly begged Jiang Wei to help perform an exorcism in their floor’s restroom, claiming that nowadays she not only dared not use the last stall, but once night fell, she was completely terrified to visit the restroom alone.
Skilled as Jiang Wei was at acting, facing Sun Tian—who had been scared out of her wits by Jiang Wei’s ghost impersonation—left her feeling rather awkward. Was she supposed to agree to help Sun Tian perform a ritual to exorcise… herself?
After placating her classmates for a while, she used the excuse of needing to visit an MCN company to check things out, wrapped her new scarf around her neck, and hurried out the door.
Once outside the dorms, Jiang Wei strolled across campus for a bit until she coincidentally received a phone call from Zhang Wei, the MCN studio boss she had added earlier. Thinking it over, she simply told him she was free right now, set up a meeting at the studio later that afternoon, and hailed a cab outside the campus gates to head over.
Along the way, she used her phone to look up various introductions to MCN companies. Put simply, they were agencies that helped signed internet influencers maintain continuous content output and monetization—essentially talent agents for digital creators.
These companies came in all shapes and sizes, a mixed bag of good and bad. Rumors said some studios were just like fly-by-night sweatshops, completely unprofessional and incapable of helping signed creators at all. Others were fiercely aggressive, acting less like capitalists and more like modern-day slave drivers who wrung their signed influencers and content creators dry.
Still, there was no harm in casting a wider net just to see what came up. With that mindset, Jiang Wei arrived at a business startup park where Zhang Wei’s company was located on the fourth floor of Building B.
Jiang Wei had never visited this kind of hub for working professionals before. Most of the people passing her by were urban white-collar workers dressed in stylish, polished attire. Silently observing these “adults,” some deep in business phone calls while others hurried past clutching coffee cups, Jiang Wei felt a surge of excitement. Someday in the future, she might also become one of them; though the nature of her work might look a bit different, she’d likely absorb that same aura of being “elite,” “hurried,” and “in demand by society.”
Stepping into Building B, Jiang Wei squared her shoulders, put on an imposing posture, and acted the part of a mature adult.
Zhang Wei was a short, slightly plump middle-aged man. Hearing that Jiang Wei was a student from the Shanghai Film Academy, he personally came out to escort her into his office for a detailed discussion.
To treat her as an honored guest, Zhang Wei even pulled out his prized premium tea from beneath his desk.
“When treating talented people, we ought to bring out the finest tea,” Zhang Wei said, wearing a white shirt and slicked-back hair that gleamed with hair oil. His entire demeanor carried a kind of swagger that Jiang Wei couldn’t quite put into words.
It was an air of scholarly refinement mixed with a bit of slickness, and that slickness blended with a touch of hearty openness.
“Thank you, Director Zhang.”
“Pour wine to the brim, pour tea to the half-mark.” Zhang Wei smiled as he poured a cup for Jiang Wei, gesturing with a smile for her to take a sip and taste it.
He didn’t seem in any rush to talk business; instead, he treated Jiang Wei with the sincere hospitality usually reserved for a close friend.
Though Jiang Wei didn’t quite understand what the refined folks’ “pour tea to the half-mark” meant, a sense of respect toward him inexplicably rose within her. It felt as though the person sitting across from her wasn’t a businessman, but some sort of scholar or academic.
The tea was fragrant. The initial sip was crisp and bitter, leaving behind a subtle, lingering sweetness. While she wasn’t a tea connoisseur, she could tell it was top-quality brew.
After draining two cups and sampling the preserved fruits and sweets he slid across the table, Jiang Wei began to feel a little awkward. She had no idea whether she’d actually end up signing with Director Zhang or not, yet here she was gulping down his fine tea and eating his snacks beforehand, leaving a nagging sense of guilt in her chest.
“Although I didn’t catch your live stream live, I did watch the clip highlights. And the videos you edited—I’ve watched all of them too. Our company… no, I should say the entire short-video and live-streaming market is desperately lacking talent in the urban exploration niche. Your appearance couldn’t be more timely. Plus, you’re an acting student with fantastic physical appearance—it’s truly wonderful.” Zhang Wei leaned back into his leather swivel chair, sinking backward in a way that made it look as though he were reclining right into the large calligraphy scroll hanging on the wall behind him—inscribed with the phrase Supreme Goodness is Like Water—mysteriously lending him an air of authority.
“Thank you, Director Zhang.”
“I’m just speaking the honest truth here.” Zhang Wei chuckled, interlacing his fingers and resting them on the desk as he lowered his voice. “If you sign with my company, I’ll start by funneling a few thousand views to you daily. We shouldn’t try to get fat in one single bite, after all; your content needs a bit of time to ferment and brew. We’ll build up traffic slowly, which will ultimately benefit customer retention down the line.”
Zhang Wei spoke with extreme professionalism, rattling off details like an expert on how he would package Jiang Wei later on, how they’d handle promotion and traffic redirection, how they’d elevate her image to a high-end level, and how they would introduce commercial ads and brand deals.
Jiang Wei listened in a daze, feeling as though she was on the verge of making a fortune and reaching the peak of her life.
Though her original intention behind live streaming wasn’t to get rich, but rather to use it as a means to “launder money,” hearing such a glowing forecast of her future still filled her with eager anticipation.
As they chatted, Director Zhang suddenly pulled a contract out of his drawer and smoothly transitioned the conversation into sharing the document with her.
He claimed it was the most open contract in the entire industry, boasting that the company would handle her copywriting, arrange exploration locations, set up spooky props and mechanisms, and all she had to do was handle the filming and post-editing to rake in money by the handful.
He added that if she ever found working in her dorm room too disruptive later on, she could simply come into the office to punch the clock, and he would set her up with a private office. Bright and clean, fully equipped with a computer and all essentials—pure corporate elite style.
While handing the contract over for her to review, Director Zhang even naturally slid a black gel pen across the table, offhandedly mentioning that if she felt everything looked okay, she could sign right now, and he’d warmly welcome her joining the team at any moment.
Listening to someone treat her like a legendary talent scout recognizing a prized steed while laying out a brilliant future under his wing made Jiang Wei’s blood run hot.
Yet as she gripped the gel pen and attempted to read through the contract, she still sensed something was off.
The contract was written entirely in Chinese characters, and she recognized every single one of them, but once they were pieced together, they became rather difficult to parse. It was packed with legal and industry jargon that left her completely in a fog. Every individual sentence seemed fine on the surface, but the actual meaning felt frustratingly vague.
Director Zhang didn’t stop talking while she reviewed the document, continuing to paint a picture of her future work and lifestyle:
“Right nearby, there’s a startup park cafeteria on the third floor with cuisine from every region.”
“When the time comes, I’ll take you around the neighborhood. The scenery in the park behind us is fantastic—the roadside trees are all cherry blossoms. In spring, the whole place is covered in blossoms, absolutely gorgeous.”
“The very first young lady our company ever signed bought her own apartment just this year. Oh, she’s completely settled down in this city for good now. I reckon it won’t even take you that long; you might even be able to put down a down payment by next year.”
Distracted by his continuous stream of chatter, Jiang Wei found the contract sitting in front of her even harder to decipher.
Just as Director Zhang spoke in another gentle, soothing tone about how she should sign the contract right now so he could take her out for a nice celebratory meal afterward, Jiang Wei abruptly placed her black gel pen back down on the desk.
She felt she needed a breath of fresh air to clear her head. After all, she hadn’t come here to sign away her freedom on a contract with mandatory monthly live-streaming quotas. No matter how alluring the job sounded, Jiang Wei wasn’t about to give up her freedom to film whenever she wanted and pass when she didn’t. She had the dark-framed app in her hands; if she wanted an annual salary in the millions, why would she ever need to work under Director Zhang?
“I’m going to use the restroom, Director Zhang.” Jiang Wei stood up, turning to head for the door.
Director Zhang hesitated for a split second before maintaining his gentle smile, following her to the office doorway and raising a hand to point her in the direction as she pulled the door open.
As Jiang Wei strode purposefully toward the restroom, the chilly autumn air outside hit her instantly, sending a shiver through her body and snapping her back to alertness. Only then did she realize just how stiflingly hot Director Zhang’s office had been. Late autumn though it was, Zhang Wei’s air conditioner must have been set close to thirty degrees, and with the windows tightly shut, the stuffiness was enough to make anyone lightheaded and groggy.
Stepping into the restroom, Jiang Wei splashed cold water over her face first, making her feel considerably clearer. Thinking back on Director Zhang’s behavior, she couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that he was running a scam targeting young girls. She even began to wonder if the high temperature inside the room had been intentionally maintained to make her dizzy and drowsy so she’d be easier to manipulate.
Not to mention the relaxing hot tea and that spring-breeze-like gentle speaking cadence.
As she wiped her face, Jiang Wei began second-guessing herself—if the contract terms were a bit more flexible, maybe cooperation wasn’t completely out of the question?
Turning to step into one of the stalls, before she even had a chance to sit down, she suddenly heard the sound of weeping echoing from the adjacent stall.
Jiang Wei froze mid-movement, her eyes widening as she strained her ears to listen.
The weeping sounded ethereal and mournful, floating near and far, rising and falling in pitch…
Only now did she notice how dark and gloomy this restroom felt. Not only were there no windows outside the stalls, but even the lighting fixtures cast a sickly yellowish dimness. Swallowing hard, the urge to pee vanished instantly.
Jiang Wei wasn’t a naive materialist anymore; she had seen a real-life little ghost with her own eyes and knew for a fact that bizarre, unexplainable things existed in this world.
“Wuwu, wuwuwu…” The crying came in intermittent snatches.
The hairs on the back of Jiang Wei’s neck stood on end as she held her breath, not daring to make a loud movement.
She pressed her hands against her pants pockets—they were completely empty. She bitterly regretted being in such a rush when she left the dorm and forgetting to bring her peach-wood sword.
Opening her domain, nothing unusual showed up within its coverage zone. The source of the weeping likely wasn’t in the adjacent stall, but further inside at the very last one.
Damn it, always the last stall in the bathroom.
Closing her domain, Jiang Wei tapped into the [Sacrificial Items] page of the dark-framed app.
Having accumulated some fear value again from watching horror movies the previous week, the points drained by the peach-wood sword had bounced back, making her flush with cash to buy various items once more. She had given that previous Weng Zhong jade pendant to Zhenzhen, so she quickly bought a new one and hung it around her own neck.
Feeling a bit more secure inside, Jiang Wei tiptoed and pushed open the restroom door. The moment she did, the weeping sounded out once more:
“Wu, wuwuwu…”