Chapter 52: His Prayer Reached the Wrong God

Because the entity behind him, after biting him, softened its force and merely pressed against him gently, as if kissing him, bringing a wave of numbing itchiness.

Pei Liu’s face flushed a light pink, with a tendency to spread to his ears and neck, turning as red as a ripe peach.

His legs felt a bit weak, and he only managed to stay upright by relying on the hand the entity had wrapped around his waist.

Shen Jin also reached out to support his arm, asking with concern: “Should I take you to see a doctor?”

Pei Liu shook his head, standing in the middle, looking like a piece of sandwich-bread.

He instinctively grabbed Shen Jin’s hand, his fingertips trembling slightly. Then, realizing it was inappropriate, he felt he should let go. But under the current circumstances, he desperately wanted a person with strong yang energy to accompany him, not wanting to face the entity alone.

Shen Jin helped him to the lounge.

He sat on a chair, surrounded by coldness, resting his head on Shen Jin’s shoulder as he closed his eyes to rest. However, his brows were slightly furrowed, and he wasn’t actually asleep.

It was too cold, and he was also very afraid.

His body shivered.

Then, as if sensing his discomfort, the entity actually warmed up slightly, offering a touch of human-like warmth. He felt much better, but Pei Liu didn’t relax because of this; instead, he worried about what kind of conspiracy the other had.

He held Shen Jin’s hand dependently, while simultaneously trying his best to avoid the entity.

Two completely different attitudes.

But he had no idea that both were directed at the same god.

This caused Xie Wuyu to feel a very contradictory and fragmented sensation, one that was indescribable.

After an unknown amount of time, the black mist finally dissipated and vanished.

Pei Liu’s tense nerves finally loosened, and he let out a sigh of relief. Even in the dead of winter, a thin layer of cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and the clothes on his back were soaked, as if he had been fished out of water.

“What on earth happened? Can you tell me?” Shen Jin reached out to brush away the damp hair clinging to his forehead, asking gently.

Pei Liu still shook his head, acting as if nothing had happened: “…Nothing, let’s go out.”

Regarding the entity’s existence, he naturally couldn’t tell others.

Setting aside whether others would believe him, there was no need to drag an innocent person into this.

Pei Liu discovered that using his ghost-eating ability to deal with Xie Wuyu was useless. The entity’s ghostly energy was like an endless spring, simply impossible to fully deplete; instead, he would get too full first.

The deity statue was also useless against the entity.

Therefore, Pei Liu planned to use his day off, when no scenes were scheduled for him, to visit the highly effective temple the Heavenly Master had mentioned to pray.

It wasn’t very far from the set—about a two-hour drive.

The temple was of an antique style, with flourishing incense and curling white smoke.

Pei Liu had never worshipped gods before and didn’t know the rules, so he could only mimic what others did and learn as he went.

He bought three sticks of incense, lit them, and then held them in both hands, walking before the deity statue.

This temple, to be more precise, couldn’t quite be considered a Buddhist temple. Because the one enshrined was not a Buddhist deity, but a unique god born a thousand years ago.

It was said that this god was originally a mortal, and later, through a stroke of luck, unexpectedly became a god. Therefore, he held an exceptional fondness for humans, willing to listen to everyone’s prayers and offer protection and guidance.

Pei Liu looked up to gaze at it.

The deity statue appeared to be an elder past fifty, with ordinary features but a solemn expression, exuding a quiet authority.

Pei Liu lowered his head and prepared to kneel, but a gentle breeze lightly supported both his knees, making it impossible for him to kneel.

Pei Liu was surprised, his belief in the deity growing, so he didn’t force the kneeling. He closed his eyes devoutly and silently voiced his prayer in his heart, hoping the entity would stay away from him and that he would have a safe life.

But he had no idea that the deity statue’s eyes suddenly moved, quietly watching him.

And behind him, the entity had also boldly followed him into the temple, standing by his side and looking coldly at the statue without a shred of reverence, but with a barely noticeable trace of disgust.

Pei Liu inserted the incense into the censer, then turned and left.

Since he was already here, Pei Liu decided to stroll around the temple and admire the scenery.

Occasionally, he would see a few monastics dressed in plain grey robes, their expressions peaceful and calm, sweeping the temple grounds.

Pei Liu was curious, but out of politeness, no matter how much he wanted to look, he wouldn’t stare at anyone unless he truly couldn’t help himself.

He noticed a monk standing under a tree. Since this wasn’t a Buddhist temple, perhaps he shouldn’t be called a monk, but he didn’t know what else to call him, so he could only use that term in his heart.

The other person was very young, looking to be about his age, with delicate features; even with a shaved head, he didn’t look bad, and there was a red dot between his brows.

But none of these were what attracted Pei Liu.

The key was that the young monk was holding a cup of milk tea, chugging it down, occasionally sucking up a few pearls and chewing on them with a look of utter delight and satisfaction.

Having left the mortal world behind, but not forgetting milk tea.

Watching him, Pei Liu suddenly wanted a cup of milk tea too.

Perhaps sensing his gaze, the monk drinking milk tea looked up and made eye contact with him. Looking a bit surprised, he turned to look left, then right, and realizing there was no one else around, confirmed that the gaze belonged to Pei Liu.

The monk swallowed the milk tea in his mouth, acted as if nothing had happened, and bowed to Pei Liu. If one ignored that cup of milk tea, he actually looked very much the part.

The monk said seriously: “To meet here indicates we have a connection. I would like to read your fortune, Benefactor.”

A connection? Is this a scam?

But this was a temple, and the monk in front of him wore the same grey robe as the others. If he were a scammer, he should have been kicked out long ago.

So, Pei Liu allowed it.

The monk sized him up for a moment and said: “Benefactor is favored by the deity, deeply protected. Your future path will be smooth and prosperous, and your life span…”

“I actually can’t see it clearly?!”

He wore a look of shock, his eyes wide, almost dropping the milk tea in his hand; fortunately, his reflexes were quick, and he caught it.

Pei Liu was curious: “Is not being able to see it clearly a good thing or a bad thing?”

The monk took a sip of milk tea to calm himself down, then said: “Perhaps I am not qualified to read it. You are protected by a deity, so it should be a good thing.”

Everyone likes to hear good words. Pei Liu smiled, in a good mood, and was about to ask how much this would cost, but unexpectedly, the monk turned and walked away readily.

Pei Liu instantly believed in him even more. Thinking of the screenwriter’s situation, he asked again: “If someone dies and becomes a ghost, lingering around their beloved living partner, what will happen?”

The monk: “The yin energy will erode the body, shortening their life, leading to an earlier death.”

Pei Liu: “Is there any way to make the ghost cross over and reincarnate?”

The monk: “Once their wish is fulfilled and their obsession is gone, they will naturally leave.”

Pei Liu nodded in thanks, and finally couldn’t help but ask: “What kind of milk tea was Teacher drinking?”

The seriousness on the monk’s face vanished, and he instantly smiled: “Taro boba!”

Then, he enthusiastically recommended several other kinds of milk tea he loved, listing which ones from which shops were absolutely not to be missed, speaking as if they were cherished treasures.

Hearing this made Pei Liu’s mouth water.

Pei Liu took a trip to the temple, memorizing a list of milk tea names. Upon leaving, he immediately bought two cups of the ones the monk highly recommended, and the taste was indeed fantastic.

However, even though they looked like quite large cups, they were quickly finished, as if someone had stealthily drunk his milk tea.

The invisible entity beside him frowned slightly, looking a bit disgusted.

…Too sweet.

***

Back on set.

Pei Liu also brought a few cups of milk tea for Shen Jin, Qin Wu, his assistant, and Xiao Tian.

Days off always passed very quickly.

Pei Liu had to start working again.

The scene they were shooting this time was the very excerpt he and Shen Jin had rehearsed initially. Hearing that his senior had died in a rented apartment, Yu Chu instantly recalled what Shen Wenrui had said in the car, growing suspicious. Combined with previous small details, he finally couldn’t hold back, intending to secretly call the police, but was caught in the act by Shen Wenrui, drugged, and taken away.

This segment of the plot was a major climax.

Director Chen had originally been worried that Pei Liu and Shen Jin wouldn’t be able to pull it off and would need many NGs, but the result was unexpectedly good. It was cleared in just two takes.

For this, Pei Liu had to thank a certain entity; the moment he thought of him, his fear was perfectly in place. Pei Liu didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Next was the scene where Yu Chu was locked in the basement by Shen Wenrui.

Pei Liu sat on a rusty chair, his body bound by coarse rope, his hands secured to the armrests, and his ankles tied to the chair legs.

Tying someone up was supposed to be done by the prop staff, but Shen Jin actively volunteered. The screenwriter also came over, saying he had some detailed suggestions, wanting to capture the atmosphere he envisioned. His attitude was extremely earnest, and others found it hard to refuse; after all, they said the novel was the author’s child.

But this “others” clearly did not include Shen Jin.

He cast an indifferent glance at the screenwriter, Gao Wenhao, blocking the other’s path, his meaning clear. Gao Wenhao didn’t want to yield, but ultimately backed down under his gaze, not personally handling it but merely standing to the side to watch and offer a few tips.

Standing by the camera, holding his thermos and slowly sipping his health tea, the director remarked: “Young people nowadays are all very hardworking.”

Meanwhile, surrounded by three people, Pei Liu felt a bit of pressure.

According to the script, they had to achieve the effect of being tightly bound and unable to move, but since this was acting, they wouldn’t make it exactly like the real thing, taking the actor’s comfort into account and worrying about accidents.

So, while being tied up, Pei Liu was asked: “Is it too tight? Will it be uncomfortable? Do you need it loosened?”

Pei Liu said: “It’s fine, just tie it directly to avoid looking fake on camera. If it’s uncomfortable, I’ll endure it.”

The screenwriter nodded, praising his cooperation, and suggested how his hands should be bound.

Shen Jin asked flatly: “The screenwriter seems to have done a lot of research on bondage?”

The screenwriter said: “To write the novel, I looked up some information, like how to tie someone up more securely so they can’t escape.”

Then, he began to share the information he had researched, speaking at length. But after a long while, he discovered Shen Jin wasn’t listening at all.

Shen Jin’s focus was entirely on Pei Liu. He bent over, almost completely enveloping him in his shadow, his expression intensely focused.

Watching him, the screenwriter unconsciously stopped speaking.

Once the tying was completed and checked, filming could begin.

Yu Chu, played by Pei Liu, sat powerlessly on the chair, slowly opening his eyes. Seeing the unfamiliar, dark environment around him, panic appeared in his eyes, his fear worsening when he discovered he was tied up and unable to move. He remembered: he was calling the police, and was caught by Shen Wenrui…

Just then, footsteps sounded, slowly approaching.

“Awake?” Shen Wenrui smiled at him. His handsome face, however, resembled a beautiful, venomous snake.

Yu Chu couldn’t help but shiver, speaking incoherently in fear: “I, I was wrong… I shouldn’t have called the police. I know nothing, absolutely nothing. Let me go, please…”

Shen Wenrui leaned over, gently touching his face, smiling warmly as he refused without hesitation.

“Don’t think about it. You are my carefully selected, most beloved creation.”

The silver-white long hair cascaded down, brushing against the skin of Yu Chu’s neck, cold and clammy.

Yu Chu instantly thought of being turned into a specimen, his expression bordering on despair.

But unexpectedly, Shen Wenrui merely touched his face, then turned and left, not returning for a long time. Trembling, Yu Chu felt anxious and panicked. He tried to struggle to see if there was a way to loosen the rope, but his body thrashed violently from side to side, in the end only causing himself to tumble awkwardly onto the floor.

Shen Wenrui returned, but he was dragging a severely battered person behind him like a sack.

“So disobedient.”

Seeing Yu Chu fallen on the floor along with the chair, Shen Wenrui still smiled, but his eyes were pitch-black.

Yu Chu hurriedly apologized, saying he didn’t mean to.

Shen Wenrui set him upright, and then, right in front of him, killed the person he had dragged in. And it wasn’t a quick death; he tortured him slowly, leaving him begging for death.

Yu Chu was practically driven mad with fear, shaking like a leaf.

“Why aren’t you smiling? Have you forgotten who this is? These are the people who beat and insulted you, who bullied you in the past. Don’t you find this very satisfying?”

Shen Wenrui grabbed the person’s hair to reveal his face for Yu Chu to see, even forcing him to kneel and apologize to Yu Chu.

Yu Chu naturally recognized him. Seeing his hated enemy meet such an end, normally, he should have been happy. But in the current situation, Yu Chu felt more fear, terrified that he would be the next to die.

Seeing the person had stopped breathing, Shen Wenrui tossed him aside in disgust and dragged another person in. This time, he even invited Yu Chu to join him. Terrified, Yu Chu shrank back, pressing tightly against the back of the chair, shaking his head vigorously.

Upon discovering that the people Shen Wenrui killed were all his enemies, Yu Chu gradually became numb, and as he watched, he actually felt a morbid pleasure. The trash who had once stepped on him and kicked him was now having his bones crushed, devoid of all dignity, crying and begging for mercy.

This scene indeed made him let out a smile.

Seeing Yu Chu smile, Shen Wenrui looked like a teacher seeing his student make significant progress, wearing a satisfied expression.

Shen Wenrui walked over, untied Yu Chu’s ropes, and took his hand, letting him join in this joyful activity.

Yu Chu didn’t lay a hand on anyone, but watched cautiously and curiously, seeing how Shen Wenrui did it.

Shen Wenrui was in high spirits, explaining to him as he worked, as if this were merely a unique practical lesson.

He led his student, experiencing the joy of dissecting a human body.

Gradually, Shen Wenrui’s guard against him lowered, fully treating him as one of his own, to the point where he only tied Yu Chu’s wrists before leaving the room.

Yu Chu used a razor blade he had secretly hidden to cut the ropes and seized the opportunity to escape. All his previous reactions had been feigned as he tried to figure out Shen Wenrui’s thoughts. As for how much of his emotions were real and how much were fake, he was also confused, not daring to think too deeply.

Passing through the iron door and running down the corridor, he saw several people locked in a room resembling a prison cell. They had all bullied him during high school.

Seeing Yu Chu, they immediately grabbed the iron bars, begging him: “Let us out! Yu Chu, please. We were foolish back then, and we’ve always regretted it.”

Yu Chu didn’t want to pay them any mind, turning to continue walking.

“Are you going to ignore Ding Yu too? He used to be your friend; he only joined in on bullying you because I threatened him. Doesn’t his little sister like you a lot? She called you ‘Brother’ and gave you candy! If Ding Yu dies here, she won’t have any family left. Do you think that doesn’t matter either?!”

Yu Chu indeed hesitated. At this point, he hadn’t been completely corrupted. Unlike Shen Wenrui, he still had a sense of morality and was successfully guilt-tripped.

After some hesitation, he found a way to smash the lock and let them out.

Because Shen Wenrui could return at any moment, they scrambled to run. Stepping out the door and seeing the sunset, they realized this was an abandoned warehouse in a remote suburb.

Yu Chu thought he saw hope for escape, but at that moment, he was kicked hard from behind, falling to the ground.

Ding Yu was shocked: “What are you doing??”

The one who kicked Yu Chu down was the very boy who had just begged Yu Chu to let them out. He wore a venomous expression, cursing hatefully: “If it weren’t for him, how would we have been dragged here! Didn’t you hear? Those screams, pleas, and apologies—that killer did it all to avenge him! He caused my brother’s death!”

The boy kicked Yu Chu in the stomach again and again, clearly wanting him dead.

“Stop kicking,” Ding Yu intervened, but the reason was merely— “What if that killer returns? Run!”

The boy listened, delivered one final hard kick to Yu Chu, and turned to run.

Yu Chu lay on the ground, weakly stretching out his hand, calling Ding Yu’s name with difficulty, pleading humbly: “Don’t leave me behind…”

But in his blurred vision, there were only their retreating figures running away without looking back.

The last trace of light in Yu Chu’s eyes slowly faded away.

…

They thought they could escape, but they didn’t know Shen Wenrui was waiting outside, smiling as he killed these escaped rats one by one.

Finally, he stepped through the pool of blood, walking step by step toward the student lying on the ground—pitiful yet loathsome.

Outside the abandoned warehouse, there was a sea of flowers, where unknown wild flowers grew wildly, occupying this piece of land.

Yu Chu curled up on the ground, trembling from the pain, resembling a vulnerable, lone cub.

Shen Wenrui stopped before him, leaned down, pinched his neck, and tightened his grip bit by bit.

He wanted to kill him.

Yu Chu realized this but didn’t struggle, having lost his will to survive.

His face turned blueish-purple from the lack of oxygen, his expression painful and desperate. He gripped the flowers beside him tightly, his fingers slender, knuckles pale, petals crushed in his palm.

The last ray of the setting sun fell into his eyes, and the dark night fell.

He slowly closed his eyes, like an injured prey trapped in a spider web, unable to struggle, quietly waiting for death.

There was a shocking sense of beauty.

On set.

The screenwriter stared blankly at this scene, completely mesmerized.

And the female ghost clinging to his back was staring at him unblinkingly.