Chapter 36: The Haunting Goes Viral

Was it because the cherries had just been taken out of the fridge?

He ate two, licked his lips, placed the cherry stems in a saucer next to him, and continued watching the show.

The screen showed his entry into the abandoned villa. Since he already knew the content being shown, he focused his attention on the bullet comments.

“This villa has a real horror movie vibe. I’m starting to get scared…”
“Pei Liu has no reaction at all, he’s so brave.”
“The Gobang CP is here! Aww, head pats, so sweet!”
“‘I signed a contract. If I leave now, I have to pay compensation.’ Bald CEO. Hahahaha, why didn’t I know Pei Liu was this funny before? I’m a fan now.”

The scene shifted to Pei Liu and Wu Kai going to the bathroom to wash their hands.

“Wigs, faucets running with blood—so cliché. Are the writers this season out of ideas? I’m feeling a bit let down.”
“I can’t believe the big guy Wu Kai is the one terrified, acting like a little bird seeking protection from Pei Liu. Hahahaha, I’m dying of laughter. Toughen up!”
“Damn! This head is too realistic, so scary.”
“??? Liu-bao, what did you just say? Carry the head out? Mommy forbids it, it’s dirty!”
“Is dirtiness really the issue here? Pei Liu’s fans are so funny too, hahaha.”

Soon, they were all in the master bedroom searching for clues, and the video showed Pei Liu solving the Sudoku puzzle.

“Wow, so fast. This puzzle isn’t easy, right?”
“Passerby here. I play Sudoku too, and an average person would need about fifteen minutes for this one. Pei Liu is truly fast.”
“Wait, where’s the clue after solving it?”
“The key, this… Jian Yongge stole someone else’s credit and is showing off. It’s a bit disgusting.”
“Are you brain-dead? Making false accusations. He clearly didn’t know. It’s obviously a flaw in the production team’s design.”
“It’s just one key. Bah, who cares. Our gege is so smart, he’ll find plenty of clues in minutes.”
“Vase Pei solving Sudoku in five minutes? Who are you kidding? He must have colluded with the production team beforehand.”
“A certain someone’s brainless fans are barking again. So annoying, turning off the bullet comments.”

Watching the show, Pei Liu frowned, realizing how terrifying the fighting power of Jian Yongge’s fans was. They flooded the screen, arguing fiercely, and somehow managed to drag him into it. Anyone who spoke up for him would be heavily targeted. It was absolutely ridiculous.

Pei Liu couldn’t bear to watch it anymore. Recalling that no ghosts appeared in this part, he simply skipped ahead. Tong Jiaqi was sleeping when the little female ghost stood by her bed staring at her, leaving a trail of bloody footprints on the floor.

“Holy crap! Are these really actors? I’m too scared to sleep with the lights off now.”
“Silently retracting my feet into the blanket.”
“Not cliché at all, I’m all for this!”
“The ones shouting about dropping the show earlier are still watching. It smells so good, so funny.”
“Has variety show competition gotten this fierce? This scene could completely become a classic in a horror movie.”
“Who’s unluckier than me? Just as I got to this part, my mom knocked on the door telling me to sleep. Scared the living daylights out of me.”

Pei Liu set up a block list for certain words in the bullet comments, and as he continued watching, it became quite amusing. Later on, it showed them encountering the little ghost at night. The little girl, covered in corpse spots, lay on his pillow, grinning at him and calling him “Mom.”

“f*ck f*ck f*ck! I can’t watch this. I need to play the national anthem for some red power.”
“Prosperity, democracy, civility, harmony, freedom… The 24-character socialist core values protect me.”
“Save me, save me! Why did my hands have to click on this show? I’m terrified of ghosts.”

When Pei Liu in the show told the little ghost to call him “Dad,” the bullet comments went silent for a few seconds before the tone drastically changed, filling the screen with “hahahaha.”

“Call him Dad. How on earth did Pei Liu come up with that? His thought process is unique.”
“From today on, I’m a Liu fan too! Why did it take me so long to discover this treasure?”
“The little ghost looks utterly confused: You’ve completely thrown me off.”
“Where’s the person from earlier who said they’d do a handstand and eat shit on a live stream if Pei Liu didn’t cry from fear? Will this boss cry? Remember to keep your promise.”

To be honest, Pei Liu couldn’t laugh because he knew that ghost was real—someone possessed by a ghost, not an actor performing. As for the comments calling him a boss, he truly couldn’t accept it. After all, he… had actually been scared to tears during the hide-and-seek game. Hopefully, that part wasn’t recorded.

Pei Liu put his hands together, praying silently.

The first episode ended with Pei Liu exploring the garden, revealing the bloody face among the flowers and the severed hand reaching out from the dirt to grab his ankle. It stopped right at the climax, making people both scared and eager to see what happened next.

To watch the next part, the second episode was available, but it required a VIP membership. Netizens grumbled and cursed, but bought it anyway to keep watching.

Pei Liu also topped up his membership and started the second episode early. The volume of bullet comments was still substantial.

Through a third-person perspective, he realized he had missed a lot of things. The ghost face in the bushes was a prime example. The old him definitely wouldn’t have been afraid, but now…

He silently pulled his legs up, hugging his knees, afraid a ghost hand might reach out from under the sofa to grab him.

The content of the second episode involved discovering the burned room.

“Kai-kai the Popeye, hahahaha.”
“Pei’s stuff? Awesome.”
“Did the corpse just move?! My hair is standing on end!”
“Jian Yongge actually missed it. His face turned black. So satisfying.”

In the corridor, Jian Yongge’s expression was unnatural, and he hit Tong Jiaqi, who was concerned about him.

“Why hit someone? That’s too much. My heart aches for Qiqi.”
“I apologize on gege’s behalf. He didn’t mean to. You can tell from his expression he was terrified. Hugs.”
“To be honest, this is Jian Yongge’s acting peak. He looks like he really saw a ghost.”
“Gege would never hit anyone. It must be scripted, he was forced to do it.”
“Even if it’s acting, he hit too hard. That bruise looks painful to me. It’ll take half a month to fade, and Jiaqi still has schedules to attend.”

The bullet comments started arguing again.

Pei Liu picked up a cherry to eat. Distracted, he unconsciously crushed the skin between his lips and teeth. Juice flowed out, and without him noticing, it ran down his fingertip.

The entity watched, leaned in, grabbed his finger, and licked it, taking the dark red juice into his mouth. With a pale, handsome face, cold as snow and untouched by time, the touch of red on his lips made him look like a vampire drinking human blood in the dark.

Pei Liu only felt a slight tickle, which didn’t interrupt his thoughts.

He figured Jian Yongge must have encountered the ghost at this moment.

The show continued. They encountered the little ghost, were chased, met the female ghost asking for help, and agreed to help her find the ghost infant. The episode ended with them in the basement, facing the steadily advancing statues.

“The NPCs are so dedicated, they look like real statues. The camera angles are great too, very immersive and oppressive.”
“I’m watching and I can’t help but not blink along with them. So tense.”
“Because of this episode, my opinion of Pei Liu has changed a lot. Calm in the face of danger, leading his teammates, and even offering to swap with Tong Jiaqi.”
“Liu-liu is a gentle little angel, mwah.”
“Qiqi’s fans are grateful, finger hearts.”

After netizens finished the second episode, still wanting more, they flocked to Weibo.

There were those analyzing and decrypting, those blowing rainbow farts for their idols, those shipping CPs and looking for sweet moments, those forming support groups out of fear, those praising the production team’s set design, and those arguing furiously—everything you could imagine.

It was evident this show was truly a hit, with highly active discussions. Many marketing accounts wrote detailed analyses and cut highlight clips. Naturally, it generated several trending topics.

#PeiLiuMakesGhostCallHimDad#

#PeiLiuHardcoreMoves#

#HowLongCanAPersonGoWithoutBlinking#

#VarietyShowsScarierThanHorrorMovies#

#WuKai=HouseDemolishingHusky#

Uninformed netizens, curious, clicked in and instantly fell down the rabbit hole, bringing another massive wave of viewers to the show.

The director watched and couldn’t be happier. He liked Pei Liu more and more, feeling very fortunate to have invited him on the show.

The loudest arguers, of course, were Jian Yongge’s fans. A large horde flooded the show’s official Weibo account, clamoring for an explanation. They labeled Jian Yongge’s unlikeable behavior on the show as scripted, accusing the production team of being unfair and kneeling to Pei Liu just because he had a sugar daddy behind him. They believed their hardworking gege was too pitiful.

Knowing this, the director could only sneer. A major feature of their show was not providing scripts to the guests, filming their authentic puzzle-solving and survival processes. Jian Yongge’s actions were all his own doing.

Jian Yongge’s manager contacted the director, negotiating to cut out footage unfavorable to him. But the director just deflected and brushed him off. Everything had been made clear when signing the contract; demanding everyone revolve around him now was clearly unreasonable. Moreover, they had to consider the feelings of the other guests.

The manager hung up the phone, his face dark, and demanded: “Jian Yongge, it’s one thing to act up normally, but couldn’t you have acted properly while recording the show? Do you know what a mess it is online right now?”

Jian Yongge showed no remorse. Instead, irritable and impatient, he smashed the things around him, leaving a mess on the floor.

He cursed loudly: “Do people online not have brains? On what grounds are they criticizing me! Who the f*ck does Pei Liu think he is! And you have the nerve to blame me? Who picked this garbage show for me? You’re a useless manager, can’t even negotiate a small matter!”

Being cursed at by someone so much younger than him, the manager’s face turned pale. Did he want to be his manager? Relying on being a second-generation star with strong backing, Jian Yongge had snatched many resources and was forcefully pushed to the top. Anyone with eyes could see what his actual abilities were.

It would be fine if he were well-behaved and obedient, but Jian Yongge was arrogant and deeply jealous, insisting on being the center of attention everywhere he went, causing plenty of trouble. Now it was even worse; he was completely impossible to communicate with.

The manager couldn’t be bothered to argue anymore. Pressing his temples, he walked to the side to make calls and clean up the mess. At least the situation was still somewhat manageable for now.

But he didn’t notice Jian Yongge’s darkened Yintang or the ghostly aura swirling around him.

People who have been possessed and bewitched by ghosts suffer physically, their inner darkness is exposed, their emotions spiral out of control, and they easily invite disaster upon themselves. The situation would only deteriorate further.

In the past, Jian Yongge would disguise himself, play the victim, and mobilize his fans to attack others on his behalf. Many less prominent celebrities could only endure and concede. But this time, it was as if the evil karma suppressed before had suddenly rebounded. A storm was brewing online, and a tempest was imminent.

Meanwhile.

After watching the two episodes, Pei Liu picked up the script from the sofa to prepare for his audition.

He discovered this project was adapted from a massive IP, with the original novel available online. The audition was only for a small excerpt. To better understand and interpret the character, he downloaded the app and started reading the novel.

He read for an entire day, completely immersed in the plot and fascinated by it.

When he finally reached the end and turned the last page, Pei Liu rubbed his dry, sore eyes. Although uncomfortable, he felt very satisfied inside and unhesitatingly tipped the author several “deep water torpedo” rewards.

Then, focusing on the character he was auditioning for, he wrote down some personal analysis. While thinking, he used his pen to poke his chin, writing and stopping, crossing out and revising.

It wasn’t until his eyes were too sleepy to stay open that he put down his pen and paper to take a shower.

Coming out of the bathroom, he felt completely refreshed. Just as he was about to get into bed, he blinked sluggishly, somewhat confused to find the blanket neatly arranged. Usually, when he woke up, he just threw the blanket aside and left. Since he was going to sleep in it again at night anyway, he was too lazy to make it.

Getting into bed, the temperature was neither hot nor cold—just right. A deep wave of drowsiness hit him, and Pei Liu fell into a heavy sleep, utterly unable to think about what felt off.

Soon, he was embraced from behind. The broad, familiar embrace was icy cold, like a human-shaped air conditioner. Pei Liu liked this temperature; his body relaxed, and he rolled over, unconsciously finding a more comfortable position.

His forehead inadvertently brushed against something soft.

It was the entity’s lips.

The entity’s expression froze for a moment. Then, as if humoring a spoiled cat in his arms, he naturally reached out to touch Pei Liu’s face and lips, lowering his head to inhale his scent.