When Su Youqi returned to the dormitory, Zheng Ze looked at him with astonishment, realizing that he had somehow acquired another ghost.
Who is he?
Zheng Ze and Nan Ke exchanged glances, reading the exact same question in each other’s eyes.
“This is Zheng Ze. He has a matter that needs my help, so he is staying with me for a while,” Su Youqi explained to Nan Ke out of habit. As soon as the words left his mouth, however, he felt a strange awkwardness wash over him. What on earth is this inexplicable feeling of getting caught cheating?
Yet introducing Nan Ke to Zheng Ze presented a minor dilemma.
Should I say this is my ghost marriage partner?
No way, absolutely not. That is way too awkward.
Perhaps sensing Su Youqi’s discomfort, Nan Ke took the initiative and extended his right hand toward Zheng Ze. “Hello, I am Nan Ke. An acquaintance of Youqi.”
Because Nan Ke used the word acquaintance, he successfully made Su Youqi overlook the fact that Nan Ke had just dropped his full name and called him Youqi instead.
And just like that, without the knowledge of the other three roommates, their dorm quietly gained two new members who didn’t even occupy a bed.
Time slipped by, and a few days passed in a flash. Su Youqi did not receive Huang Linzhi’s anticipated revenge, but instead received a summons from the film crew.
This was to be Su Youqi’s final scene for the production.
“Youqi can act?” Nan Ke asked with keen interest.
Su Youqi replied, “It is just a minor supporting role with very few lines. My acting skills are terrible.”
He had no idea how to act; it was purely a case of a blind cat running into a dead mouse, perfectly suited for playing a role that required zero stretching. Otherwise, the director would have fired him long ago.
Zheng Ze couldn’t help chiming in. “The acting department at X University is actually quite good. It ranks near the top nationwide.” He assumed Su Youqi was merely being modest.
Su Youqi issued a triple denial: No! I am not! I did not!
Fortunately, Nan Ke stepped in to rescue him. “Zheng Ze, were you also a student at X University before?”
“Yes,” Zheng Ze said, his mood dipping into a gloomy slump. “And I do not know if it is because I jumped to my death at X University, but my soul has been wandering there ever since. No matter how far away I travel, I end up drifting right back within a couple of days.”
When Zheng Ze first realized he had turned into a ghost, he was ecstatic and wanted to find Huang Linzhi for revenge. However, Huang Linzhi had stopped coming to school by then, and Zheng Ze had no idea where to find him. Every time he ventured out to search, he was forcibly drifted back to the campus halfway through.
He had thought that becoming a ghost meant he could run amok and conquer the world, but he couldn’t even locate his target.
Surely, there was no ghost more pathetic than him.
Television dramas were truly all lies.
“Your guess is correct,” Su Youqi offered the two of them a brief metaphysical lesson. “Generally speaking, people enter the netherworld seven days after death. However, some ghosts harbor deep obsessions and refuse to go, managing underworld escorts to linger in the mortal realm. Of course, this lingering comes with restrictions. Ghosts can generally only stay near the location where they died.”
Anyone who could test into X University was far from stupid. Zheng Ze instantly comprehended that exceptional ghosts existed who could break free from these limitations and roam around. He said with a hint of melancholy, “So it really is because I am just too weak?” Bullied to the point of suicide while alive, and reduced to a mediocre ghost after death.
Zheng Ze exuded a cloud of pure depression.
Su Youqi shook his head, correcting him. “Of course not. The reason you are like this is because of your kindness.”
Zheng Ze: What?
He had only ever heard of people being powerful because of their kindness; he had never heard of anyone being weak because of it!
Yet no matter how persistently Zheng Ze pressed him afterward, Su Youqi refused to elaborate any further.
Since they were about to arrive at the film set, Su Youqi tucked Zheng Ze away inside the Buddhist prayer beads worn on his wrist.
In fact, ever since Zhu Wenyu had started feeling chills, Su Youqi had been pondering over finding a suitable spirit-hosting vessel for Zheng Ze. After all, the living and the dead differed fundamentally, and prolonged proximity would negatively impact them both.
Moreover, Zheng Ze was a netherworld spirit and shouldn’t linger exposed in daylight for extended periods. While short durations were harmless, prolonged exposure would damage his soul body. Therefore, to constantly follow Su Youqi around, he needed a dedicated vessel.
Yet such a vessel had specific requirements, and Su Youqi had simply been too broke at the time to find a proper match.
Coincidentally, during the recent wedding, the Su family had assumed Su Youqi remained the same talentless good-for-nothing celestial master as before. To humiliate him, they had deliberately tossed him a pile of magical artifacts as part of his dowry. Naturally, these were low-tier items; the Su family wouldn’t dare part with anything truly top-grade.
Thus, Su Youqi had rummaged through his dowry and fished out this string of consecrated bodhi prayer beads. While its overall quality was average, it was more than sufficient to house Zheng Ze’s soul.
The grade of these prayer beads wasn’t high enough to allow a resident soul to gaze out at the outside world, which prompted Nan Ke, having tried it once, to declare he wanted no part of it. “May I follow you around and observe the film set instead?”
Nan Ke was a living soul belonging to the mortal realm. His soul body wouldn’t suffer damage from daylight, nor could a living soul harm others.
Considering he had pocketed quite a hefty payment fee from the man, Su Youqi figured he could grant his employer such a minor request.
Besides, casting a glance at Nan Ke’s golden aura of merit, which burned far brighter than the prayer beads, Su Youqi felt that sooner or later, he would need to find a much higher-grade container worthy of his employer.
Su Youqi’s remaining scenes were sparse, consisting of two group fight sequences, one of which was a reshoot due to script revisions.
Jin Yan clearly adored Su Youqi. The moment he spotted him, he bounced over to greet him. “Brother Su, long time no see!”
Su Youqi smiled back. “Long time no see, Xiao Yan.”
“You get to wrap up your scenes and finish your role today, Brother Su,” Jin Yan said, looking slightly reluctant after guiding Su Youqi through the day’s choreography. “I won’t be able to see Brother Su often after this.”
Su Youqi liked Jin Yan quite a bit as well. Hearing this, he pulled out his phone, opened his WeChat QR code, and held it out. “Here, scan this. I remember your troupe is based in Lincheng. We can grab a meal together sometime when we are free.”
“Xiao Su, get over here and get ready!”
Just as the two finished adding each other as contacts, the director’s shout echoed across the set. Jin Yan pocketed his phone and waved. “I will not distract you anymore, Brother Su!”
Su Youqi’s scene involved leading a bunch of lackeys to confront the male protagonist, mimicking the scenario where Huang Jie had cornered him earlier.
Since it was television production, however, and to amp up the visual impact, Su Youqi carried a standard-issue prop, a long steel pipe, which looked effortlessly cool.
Su Youqi racked his brain to recall Huang Jie’s expression that day and imitated it. Thanks to the identical setup, the effect turned out remarkably well.
Fortunately, he was only playing a minor supporting role with few close-up facial shots. Once he survived this main frame, the rest consisted of action choreography, which played right into his strengths.
Watching Su Youqi visibly heave a sigh of relief, Nan Ke hovered nearby with a muffled chuckle. His acting was indeed mediocre.
To think a dignified advanced celestial master had stooped to playing minor extras in the entertainment industry, it truly was a waste of talent.
Still, Su Youqi’s action movements were exceptionally fluid. With Jin Yan serving as a professional action director, the captured footage looked fantastic, leaving the director thoroughly satisfied.
Just as the director beamed in high spirits and prepared to bellow cut to declare the take a wrap, a sudden commotion erupted in the distance.
Crew members stationed at the entrance dutifully blocked a group of unfamiliar strangers attempting to force their way into the filming compound.
Among them, a burly bodyguard-type figure acted incredibly arrogant, speaking with supreme condescension. “Step aside! Do you have any idea who our young master is before daring to block us?”
The crew member guarding the door grew visibly angry. “I do not care who you are! Our crew is filming inside right now, and outsiders are not allowed to barge in!”
The person addressed as the young master clearly lacked patience. He gave his bodyguard a single glance, and the large man immediately began shoving the crew member, making it blatantly clear they intended to crash the set.
The crew member tried to hold his ground, but how could he match the physical strength of a professional bodyguard? He was quickly shoved backward right into the interior of the photography studio.
A shot that was moments away from wrapping successfully had been completely ruined by these sudden intruders.
Wasting both emotional energy and production budget.
The director flew into a rage.
Throwing his walkie-talkie aside with a darkened face, the director marched right up to the intruders and snapped furiously, “Are you out of your minds, barging onto someone else’s set like this?”
“Who are you cursing at? Do you know who our young master…” The bodyguard clearly made a habit of this sort of intimidation, opening his mouth to repeat the exact line he had used on the gatekeeper, only for his young master to raise a hand and stop him.
The young master stared fixedly at the furious director for a moment before offering a mocking smirk. “So it is you.”
The director finally realized that this might be an old acquaintance.
Though certainly not a friendly one.
Recognizing the face before him, the director’s expression darkened further. “To think it is you.” Launching straight into sarcastic mode, the director sneered, “I never expected you to have the nerve to show your face back here.”
The man remained entirely unfazed by the mockery. Instead, he let out a cold laugh, displaying utter disdain as if the director meant nothing at all. “I am not here for you. I advise you to be smart and stay out of my way, or this young master will clean you up right along with them!”
“You!” The director choked with fury. Remembering the probable reason behind the man’s presence, the director asked in disbelief, “You actually have the shameless gall to come back and cause trouble for him?”