Chapter 15 Part 2: The Photograph and the Orphanage

After ending the stream, Qianyang turned her head and asked, “What is Xiaoyueliang?”

 

Yang Mao was lying lazily under the sun.

“Master, have you forgotten?

Their platform’s agent contacted you too.”

 

“Oh.

One of the ones who told me to keep dreaming.”

Yang Mao: “…”

“Their platform’s streamer is targeting me?”

Qianyang frowned.

 

Yang Mao sighed.

“Sounds like it.

More fame, more trouble.”

 

Qianyang grabbed him.

“I want to know who it is.”

 

“Master, aren’t you all-powerful?

Can’t you figure it out?”

 

Qianyang said, “It’s not that simple.

Besides, I don’t calculate things related to myself.”

 

That afternoon, Yang Mao contacted Cangcang and scrolled through hundreds of streamers in Xiaoyueliang’s Occult Zone, but still couldn’t find any clues.

 

After coming up empty, Yang Mao consoled her.

“Master, it’s definitely not just one or two people targeting you.

There will be more and more in the future.”

 

Qianyang stared at the computer screen, her expression somewhat dark.

 

“People down the mountain are so strange.

If they want to compete with me, they can stand up and fight openly.

But to secretly sabotage the Qian family’s achievements—that’s despicable!”

 

That Qingsi Master using her achievements to recruit followers—Qianyang didn’t care.

 

But this streamer on Xiaoyueliang was actively interfering, ruining her work.

Unforgivable!

 

At seven in the evening, within one minute of going live, the stream titled “Youthful & Pretty Female Taoist Solves Your Problems Online” had reached number one on all of Qing Ning platform’s leaderboards.

 

Other streamers on the platform had grown accustomed to this.

Some even kept Qianyang’s stream open in theirs just to pad their hours.

 

But most would symbolically tip her some gifts.

 

– Here, here!

– You might not understand the pleasure of lying in bed watching a stream after finishing a meal.

– Qing Ning app’s weekly downloads have already entered the top twenty!

– Viewership for other streamers on the platform has also increased significantly!

– The streamer is amazing!

– Shouldn’t Qing Ning official come out and kowtow to Qianyang?

She’s single-handedly driving their downloads.

– Exactly.

– …

Moderator 9958: (kowtow) Thank you, Master Qianyang!

 

On the screen, Qianyang’s expression wasn’t very pleasant.

 

– What’s wrong with the streamer?

– Who bullied our Daoist Qianyang!

– Our streamer is still a baby who came down the mountain less than a month ago!

 

Qianyang: “…”

After some lighthearted banter with the viewers, Qianyang’s mood improved a bit.

 

Soon after, Cangcang entered the stream.

Qianyang invited her to connect.

 

“Master Qianyang, I’ve already left my place.”

In the camera frame, Cangcang stood outside an old residential building.

Behind her was a dark stairwell entrance, the walls covered with various mottled marks.

 

She mounted her phone on her scooter, pushed it to a flowerbed, and said, “I’m going to ride to the place where I poured out the sticky rice water.”

 

“Okay.

Be careful,” Qianyang said.

 

Cangcang rode her scooter out of the neighborhood.

The camera kept pointing at herself.

Occasionally, through gaps in the frame, a yellow insulated box could be seen on the scooter’s rear seat.

 

– Meituan delivery!

– Wow… Cangcang delivered food?

Isn’t food delivery too hard for a girl?

 

The place where Cangcang lived was very remote and quiet.

There was almost no traffic or pedestrians on the road.

She glanced at the screen, then looked into the distance, her voice carried through the wind.

“I delivered food for a while, but my body couldn’t take it.

Plus, I kept having accidents, so I wasn’t making much money.

I gave up.”

 

Qianyang asked, “Have you been alone since you were little?”

 

Cangcang said, “When I was little, I lived in an orphanage.

But… I often went hungry and cold.

When the director was in a bad mood, I might get beaten.

So I ran away very early and went to work illegally for people.”

 

– Sigh…

– She really hasn’t had many good days.

 

Qianyang casually said, “It’s okay.

After you turn twenty, your life will get a bit better.”

 

“Huh?

Really?”

Cangcang was surprised, then smiled.

“I just turned twenty a while ago.

I’ll take your kind words.”

 

A few minutes later, Cangcang parked her scooter at an intersection.

 

“Master, this is where I poured out the sticky rice water,” Cangcang said, getting off the scooter and taking her phone.

 

Qianyang said, “If you’re lucky, she might not have gone far.”

 

Cangcang flipped the camera around to show Qianyang the intersection.

 

The sky was overcast.

The intersection was surrounded by barren grassland rustling in the wind.

Dust and fallen leaves were swept up by the gusts.

The road seemed to have no end, with lampposts every fifty meters, very open.

 

– …Scary.

– Looks like a desolate wilderness.

– Silently tucking my feet under the blanket.

 

“Wait.”

Just then, Qianyang noticed something.

 

Cangcang’s heart tightened.

“Master, what is it?”

 

“Go forward,” Qianyang said.

 

Cangcang walked forward a few steps and asked nervously, “Master, is she still here?”

 

“There’s a missing person notice on the ground,” Qianyang reminded.

 

Cangcang paused, confused.

“Where?”

 

– ???

– Where on the ground is there anything?

 

In the camera frame, Cangcang stood in the middle of the intersection.

The ground in front of her held only a few leaves blown in by the wind.

 

Seeing Cangcang’s and the viewers’ reactions, Qianyang unconsciously narrowed her eyes.

 

Was it not something visible to the living?

 

Qianyang pressed her lips together.

“Take one step forward.”

 

Cangcang, not understanding why, stepped forward.

 

Qianyang continued, “You see that leaf on the ground?”

 

“Yes, yes, I see it,” Cangcang said hurriedly.

 

“Point your phone at the ground next to it.

Zoom in.”

 

“Okay…”

Cangcang did as Qianyang instructed.

 

Meanwhile, the comments were already exploding.

 

– Holy shit!

– What the hell?

– There’s nothing on the ground except leaves!

– This is getting more and more terrifying.

– Wait, I’m @ing my friends.

– Such a tense and exciting stream, of course I’ll @my friends to watch along.

– AHHHH, comments protect me!

– …I’m a halfway medium.

My master never said there was such an awesome skill!

Viewership kept rising, already surpassing fifty thousand and heading toward one hundred thousand.

 

“Is this okay?”

Cangcang asked.

 

“Okay.”

 

Qianyang looked at the phone screen.

Although others saw only an empty patch of ground with dust floating in the air, to her eyes, a yellowed, wrinkled piece of paper lay clearly on the ground.

 

The paper was yellowed, its edges damaged, soaked with water, stuck to the ground.

 

Besides the title “Missing Person Notice,” which was still clearly visible, the rest of the text had been blurred by water and was illegible.

 

Fragmented words like “daughter,” “missing,” “help” could be vaguely pieced together.

 

Notably, there was a photo pasted below, half of it blurred by water stains.

The remaining half showed a baby girl around one year old held in someone’s arms.

 

The baby girl happened to have a beauty mark right between her eyebrows.

 

“Master, is that okay?”

Cangcang asked quietly.

 

Qianyang said, “Okay.”

 

After Cangcang stood up, Qianyang explained to everyone, “There’s a missing person notice on the ground.

It looks quite old.

A family’s daughter went missing.

I can only make out some parts.

I can only see half the photo.

She has a beauty mark between her eyebrows, exactly like the ghost sister.”

 

Cangcang was shocked.

“Really?!

Is she the missing daughter?”

 

“It’s possible,” Qianyang nodded.

 

“She wasn’t her adopted parents’ biological daughter?

No wonder they always locked her in a room by herself!”

Cangcang said.

 

– That’s insane…

– No way?

This is so magical.

– She went missing as a baby, was picked up by her adoptive parents, had a very hard life, and after death wants to find her biological parents?

– Oh, are there really people who believe the streamer’s words?

– I usually don’t believe things this insane, but counterintuitively, I kind of do.

– Wait…

– I clicked in because of the stream title.

I came to watch rule-bending, but somehow got sent to a supernatural channel?

Streamer, wrong category, reported.

– Newcomer from earlier??

Why don’t you check the category first?

– Please don’t report!

Even if this is scripted, I’ll take it.

I’ve never seen a script this insane.

 

A wave of new viewers entered the stream.

The comments had all kinds of opinions.

The old fans steadfastly believed in Qianyang, while most of the newer viewers were skeptical.

 

After all, from a normal person’s perspective, this was indeed quite insane.

 

“Master, is this a clue she left?

Does she want me to help her find her biological parents?”

Cangcang asked.

 

She seemed to fully believe Qianyang.

 

Qianyang didn’t jump to a conclusion.

She only said, “It’s possible.”

 

“Even if not, this missing person notice is linked to why she remains in this world.”

 

Cangcang nodded firmly.

“I understand, Master.

How can I help her?

How much money will it cost?

I still have some savings…”

Qianyang said, “One durian.

Like we agreed yesterday.”

 

Cangcang paused for half a second.

“You’re not raising the price?

I’ve caused you so much trouble…”

Qianyang shook her head.

“It’s not your fault.”

 

“Thank you, Master!

Can you still find her…”

“Since she left a clue, it means she hasn’t gone too far.

She might even be hiding nearby.”

Qianyang turned around, picked up the small cloth bag on the table, rummaged through it, and pulled out an object resembling a south-pointing spoon, essentially an ancient compass for direction.

 

– A south-pointing spoon?

– Doesn’t seem like it.

Just looks a bit similar.

– This is an antique!

Worth a lot of money!

– Holy shit?!

The Sky-Asking Compass?

A sacred artifact of the occult!

– ???

– Wasn’t this thing lost long ago?

 

Qianyang glanced at the comments, surprised.

“You recognize it?

It’s called the Sky-Asking Compass.”

 

– Holy shit!!

– What background does this streamer have!

– I have to call for backup!

– Master, come look at this!

– First time seeing a real Sky-Asking Compass!

– …

 

After Qianyang brought out the Sky-Asking Compass, it stirred up a bunch of peers who had been lurking in the stream.

 

– Wow, so many fellow occult streamers in here?

– Why else do you think they’re jealous of her traffic?

– The streamer definitely has something.

In the last couple of days, my occult groups have all been discussing her.

– Indeed.

In other fields, I don’t know, but in the occult zone, this streamer has already become famous.

 

Qianyang hadn’t expected so many peers in the stream.

She casually greeted them.

“Greetings, fellow practitioners… except for those from Xiaoyueliang platform.”

 

– …

– Haha, she was screwed over by a Xiaoyueliang streamer.

She holds grudges.

– Cute!

 

“Cangcang, let me see the directions,” Qianyang said.

 

“Okay!”

 

Ordinary people didn’t understand the use of the Sky-Asking Compass, so they were full of curiosity.

 

Cangcang stood in the middle of the intersection, raised her phone toward the sky, and showed the surroundings from all angles.

 

Qianyang had Yang Mao hold the phone.

She herself carried the Sky-Asking Compass to the balcony and observed the direction of the clouds in the sky.

 

The sun had completely set.

Sparse clouds drifted slowly in the sky.

 

After a few seconds, Qianyang turned the outermost ring of the compass, then the second ring, then the third.

A spoon made of natural magnetic material trembled slightly in the center of the dial.

 

Qianyang signaled Yang Mao to stand behind her, holding up the phone, and said to Cangcang, “Face east, toward the rising sun.”

 

“Got it!”

Cangcang turned around and faced one of the roads extending outward.

 

– Fellow practitioner, take it easy.

– The reason the Sky-Asking Compass was lost is that ordinary occultists can’t activate it.

They might even suffer backlash.

– The precious thing about the Sky-Asking Compass is that it knows everything and can find everything.

But from ancient times to now, very few people from any school have been able to use it.

Those who could were all prodigies.

Yet even so, many suffered backlash.

– For those who don’t know, what exactly is the consequence of backlash?

– Mild: bad luck, shortened lifespan.

Severe: vomiting blood, sudden death.

– Hiss…

– …

– Wait, I’ve spotted a blind spot!

– So many occult peers are lurking in this stream, but not one has stepped up to refute the streamer.

Does that prove that everything she says is true?

 

Seeing the endless stream of comments, Yang Mao asked worriedly, “Master, will you suffer backlash?

Is there no other way?”

 

“Backlash?”

Qianyang looked up, not understanding.

 

– !!!

– Shut up!!

It’s easier for her to suffer backlash if you casually disturb her!

 

Yang Mao’s face turned white with fear.

“Master, I’m sorry, I, I…”

Qianyang glanced at the comments, dissatisfied.

“Don’t talk nonsense.

You scared my apprentice.”

 

“If I couldn’t even activate the Sky-Asking Compass, the ancestor would have kicked me out of the school long ago.”

 

– ???

– Awesome.

– Haha, she’s so arrogant!

I like it!

– Oh no!

I feel like our Qianyang is about to become famous far and wide.

She’s no longer my little niche streamer.

 

Qianyang ignored the comments.

She held the Sky-Asking Compass in her left hand against her chest, pressed her right index and middle fingers together to her lips, then closed her eyes and silently chanted something.

 

A cold wind blew.

The loose hair at Qianyang’s temples fluttered slightly, but she was completely unaffected.

 

– No wonder I initially thought the streamer was doing rule-bending.

She’s too good-looking.

– Sob sob, I’ve never seen anyone dressed as a Taoist look this good.

– Taoist sister, let’s snuggle!

 

A moment later, the spoon on the compass slowly began to turn.

Qianyang opened her eyes.

 

After rotating a few times, the tail end of the spoon pointed forward.

The ring closest to the spoon began to spin.

 

Qianyang said, “Cangcang, ride forward.

She’s moving.”

 

Cangcang immediately returned to her scooter, mounted her phone, and chased in the direction Qianyang had indicated.

 

“Keep going forward.

I’ll tell you if anything changes.”

 

“Got it!”

 

– …She actually activated the Sky-Asking Compass.

– What background does this streamer have?

– The streamer said her temple collapsed.

Is she interested in learning about our school?

– Our school is also quite famous.

We happen to be looking for disciples recently.

Would the streamer be willing to learn more?

– Me, me, me!

My master is a renowned occult master.

Would you be willing to join our school and become his disciple?

– …

 

Qianyang said, “Not just anyone can be my master.”

 

“Your school?

Would I become the school leader?”

 

– How arrogant.

– Not humble at all.

– No matter what, they are senior practitioners.

 

Qianyang couldn’t be bothered.

She sat down on a chair and continued directing Cangcang.

 

After taking several turns, Qianyang noticed that the ghost sister was still moving.

 

Gradually, the sky darkened completely.

Streetlights lit up early.

Neon lights flickered.

People came and went.

 

At the entrance to a pedestrian street, Cangcang stopped.

 

Qianyang said, “Go through this pedestrian street.”

 

Cangcang parked her scooter by the roadside, locked it, and walked into the busy street.

 

After all this effort, Cangcang was tired.

Her breathing was heavy.

 

She quickly crossed the street, turned into a corner as directed, and arrived at an old neighborhood.

 

Then she paused.

“I’ve been here before…”

“Is that so?”

Qianyang didn’t think much of it.

“Keep going forward, then turn right.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Cangcang continued forward.

After turning the corner, she saw an abandoned building ahead.

 

Qianyang glanced at the spoon.

“She’s inside that building.”

 

Cangcang fell silent.

She walked slowly forward until she reached the entrance of the building.

 

It looked like a large courtyard.

Most of the surrounding walls had been torn down, revealing the small yard and buildings inside.

The doors and windows had all been removed.

Piles of bricks and miscellaneous items could be seen everywhere, covered in thick dust.

 

Cangcang pushed open the rusty iron gate.

A deep, heavy creaking sound echoed.

 

On the wall beside her, some red characters were pasted.

Most had fallen off.

It seemed to have been an orphanage.

 

Qianyang said, “She’s inside.”

 

Cangcang asked, “…Master, which direction?”

 

“Behind that building to your left front.”

 

“That’s the toy room.”

Cangcang’s expression was complicated.

 

Qianyang’s expression flickered.

“How do you know?”

“…This is the orphanage where I lived as a child.”

 

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