Chapter 39: He is Back

The heart of Tan Xueci leaped into his throat, but the other party suddenly stopped. A voice, rough as if ground by sandpaper, spoke gloomily: “What did you bring? Our village… heh… our village doesn’t allow such things.”

“Take it out…”

“Take it out…!!!”

The figure kept muttering. Lu Qi and Jin Chen both woke up; the moment they opened their eyes and saw a blurry black shadow in their room, they let out a synchronized, piercing scream.

Jin Chen scrambled with hands and feet to the edge of the kàng and flipped the light switch.

The light chased away the darkness of the rainy night. There was no one in the room, but their door was indeed open. Cold wind and rain blew in relentlessly, making Tan Xueci shudder.

His breathing was heavy and his forehead felt slightly hot, yet his body was freezing; he felt like he was coming down with a fever. Dazed and groggy, he wrapped himself tightly in his quilt, unable to even get up and look outside with Lu Qi and the others before falling back into a heavy sleep.

He slept until someone shook his shoulder to wake him.

Tan Xueci’s eyes were misty from the fever. Feeling a pair of hands that seemed very cold, he reached out dazedly to grab them. His voice, due to the fever, was sticky and soft: “Hubby…”

“…” Jin Chen, caught off guard by his hand being grabbed, jumped in fright. Goosebumps rose all over his body as he hurriedly pulled away, rubbing the back of his hand vigorously. “Holy sh*t! What are you yelling? There’s no ‘hubby’ here! Do you gay guys just call everyone ‘hubby’ on sight?!”

And his hands were so soft.

Tan Xueci’s hands felt as if they had no bones.

Truly terrifying.

Tan Xueci: “…”

Tan Xueci touched his own forehead; he really did have a fever. Perhaps he had pushed himself too hard climbing the mountain yesterday and got caught in the rain.

He gave Jin Chen a listless glance; he wouldn’t want a “hubby” like this anyway—jumping around like a firecracker.

His husband could die and ascend to heaven, but he couldn’t just skyrocket like that while alive.

Wait, no, dying wasn’t good either. He didn’t want a dead ghost.

Tan Xueci grunted as he climbed up. His snowy-white face was already flushed red from the fever, looking quite muddled, yet he still remembered to check the bowl of leftover rice in the spirit shrine.

It was half gone compared to when he went to bed last night.

Something had definitely been here.

Tan Xueci’s heart gave a sudden thud. Not daring to look further, he changed his clothes and went out with Lu Qi and the others.

Lu Qi looked worried. “Can you still film like this?”

He had brought fever reducers, after all, Tan Xueci fell ill from time to time, but Tan Xueci’s illnesses always came on strong; without an IV, the fever usually wouldn’t break.

The problem was they had just started filming. Falling sick immediately—even with a valid reason—would surely lead to backlash.

The internet didn’t care if Tan Xueci was truly sick or faking it; as long as one person doubted him, it would be spun into “Tan Xueci deliberately slacking off on a variety show.”

“I’m fine.” Tan Xueci shook his head. His eyelids were watery and red, but aside from the heat in his body, he didn’t feel too much discomfort.

They went to the main hall first to have breakfast with the other guests. For these few days, the guests took turns making breakfast; on the first day, it was the regulars Qin Shuyao and Chen Qing.

Qin Shuyao had her wavy hair tied into a high ponytail. Standing with her hands on her hips, she said with a smile: “Try my pickled eggplant.”

She had pickled it before bed last night; this kind of red-oil eggplant was perfect after a night of soaking—flavored through but not too salty, perfect with plain porridge in the morning.

“Thank you, Sister Yao,” Tan Xueci followed the others in calling her.

Tan Xueci had a natural fondness for mature women who were significantly older than him because they reminded him of his mother.

Qin Shuyao was more than twenty years his senior.

The eggplant was indeed delicious. Especially since his fever had left him with no appetite, eating a few pieces made him feel a bit better.

While they were eating, Xiao Cai and Xiao Shuan also woke up. The two siblings had already eaten and brought out two small stools to play cat’s cradle at the entrance of the main hall.

Outside, the rain was misty and grey, but the string in their hands was a blood-like vibrant red. Neither of them was particularly bright; after a few moves, the red string became a tangled, messy heap, looking like a pile of mangled internal organs. Xiao Cai began to scream, and Xiao Shuan began to cry.

Tan Xueci felt inexplicably uncomfortable and quickly looked away.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Auntie Zhang heard the commotion and ran out from the inner room. Her aged face held nothing but exhaustion and numbness as she picked them up and gave each a swat on the bottom. “What are you acting up for now?!”

Tan Xueci had spent much time in psychiatric wards and had seen many children with mental illnesses. At first, parents were patient, but as the children grew older, their destructive power increased, they were no longer as “cute,” and the parents grew old and weary. Screaming and scolding became common occurrences; those families were often shrouded in gloom.

When he was scared in the hospital and cried to go home, Nanny Zhang would point at those patients and tell him with sorrowful eyes: “Second Young Master, do you want the Madam to become like that? If you don’t stay in the hospital for treatment, do you want to drive her mad too?”

Then, Tan Xueci would fall silent, even if his eyelashes were soaked from crying and his eyes were full of tears.

“…”

He began to hesitate—was he really not mentally ill? What was he, exactly?

He didn’t think further. He finished his meal and prepared to set off; their main task today was to go to the village entrance to make “vow-offering dolls.”

A light rain was still falling, and the village roads were muddy. They traveled there by ox cart, and the director started the live stream at the same time.

[This is the first I’ve heard of Yanxia Village. I didn’t expect the scenery to be so good, especially in this rainy weather.]

[Yanxia Village is great and all, but what about the spouse? This batch of netizens is slacking—they haven’t dug anything up in a whole night. If he’s married, there should have been a public appearance, right? Is the husband ugly?]

[Maybe it’s a political marriage with no feelings involved, so why would there be photos? Getting married in his early twenties is just sabotaging his own career.]

[Or maybe he doesn’t have a spouse at all. Did you guys crawl into the He family’s sewers and see him enter their house?]

The bullet comments were a mess of negativity in the morning, affecting the viewing experience. The director arranged for moderators to clear the comments, but with too many people watching, it wasn’t very effective.

The director was breaking out in a cold sweat. He only knew Tan Xueci was He Sui’s ex-boyfriend and that the two still seemed to have lingering ties; he had no idea Tan Xueci had entered into a marriage alliance with the He family.

He had originally planned to use Tan Xueci’s current popularity and bring him and He Sui onto the show together to make this episode a massive hit. He didn’t care if Tan Xueci got scolded; “black-and-red” fame was still fame.

Who knew Tan Xueci had buried such a massive landmine for him?

If this was true, and the “alliance spouse” turned out to be an old, fat, ugly man, the production team would be flamed to death.

Fortunately, they soon arrived at the home of an old woman. She was also surnamed Zhang, called Zhang Lanzhi, and the villagers called her Auntie Lanzhi.

Auntie Lanzhi took out white cloth, cotton, and other sewing tools to distribute to the guests.

She was nearly seventy years old and usually made dolls for the villagers, so she had turned one room into a workshop of sorts, furnished with several old, discarded desks from the village primary school.

The other guests were more or less disgusted or uncomfortable, except for Tan Xueci. Despite his fever, his dark, watery eyes scanned the room, a faint light shining in his gaze.

His snowy-white, thin face had been gloomy since yesterday, but now he looked slightly happier.

He had never spent a single day in school his whole life. Aside from pretending to be a student for a few days in his last drama, this was the first time he had truly sat in a classroom, listening to a teacher.

He didn’t know many characters, but Auntie Lanzhi was also illiterate; there were no blackboard notes, only oral explanations, which perfectly provided cover for this little “monkey” who lacked an education.

His face was solemn and tense as he sat seriously in a window seat, head bowed, sewing his doll. He gave the doll a head of thick long hair and used red thread to stitch a thin, curved mouth—sewn crookedly and so long it almost stretched across the entire face.

It reminded people of the “Slit-Mouthed Woman” from horror movies.

The arguing bullet comments suddenly went silent.

[…]

[Go home, kid. Just go home.]

[Mm, it’s pretty good. I feel like if I turned around at night and saw this on my back, I’d stay nice and cool.]

[I feel cursed even through the screen.]

Tan Xueci had no idea what the viewers thought of his craftsmanship. He thought he had sewn a very beautiful doll. Just as he was about to finish the last leg, he looked up with sparkling eyes.

The other guests had at least attended primary school handicraft classes. Even without talent, they could at least make a doll that looked like a proper vow-offering, rather than a ghost infant that would make the Goddess of Mount Miaofeng think they were looking for trouble.

Even Auntie Lanzhi went silent. Her wrinkled face creased as she sighed and shook her head at Tan Xueci.

The light in Tan Xueci’s eyes slowly dimmed. He looked longingly at other people’s dolls, feeling they weren’t that different from his own—why didn’t anyone like his?

If Hubby were here…

Tan Xueci rested his pale, pointed chin on the doll’s belly, his eyes wide. If Hubby were here, he would definitely say Little Xue’s doll was the cutest in the world.

Tan Xueci’s face withered again. To the other guests, it was just a variety show, but to Tan Xueci, it was the first time in his life he had “attended school” and been criticized by a teacher. He secretly rubbed his eyes, wanting to cry but not daring to; if he cried, he would surely be scolded.

A shadow loomed over his face. Don’t think he didn’t know what the bullet comments would say; they would surely call him a “Green Tea.”

Only knowing how to cry to make people pity him.

Tan Xueci blinked, holding back his tears, and sat back up to continue sewing. But he was feverish, his head was dizzy, and his vision was blurred by tears. In a moment of carelessness, the needle pricked his finger, and a drop of blood fell onto the doll.

Tan Xueci was startled and hurried to wipe it away, but it was too late; a red stain had bloomed on the doll’s belly.

“Child,” Auntie Lanzhi was also startled when she came to collect the dolls. She looked suspiciously at the blood on the doll’s stomach and asked, “How did this happen?”

Tan Xueci quietly lifted his pricked finger.

Auntie Lanzhi hesitated but ultimately said nothing and collected the dolls. She still had to give the guests scores; on his first day of “school,” Tan Xueci was dead last in the class.

Lu Qi was outside with the director looking at the monitors, his expression grim. But Tan Xueci’s primary mission was to prevent people from discovering his lack of education; today was already a success.

He couldn’t ask for too much.

They had lunch at Auntie Lanzhi’s house. She made braised meat, and the guests who could cook made a few dishes to share. In the afternoon, Auntie Lanzhi told them stories about vow-offering dolls, and then the guests prepared to leave.

Before returning to their lodging, they would take an ox cart tour around the village. The director wanted to capture some scenery, and there were several temples in the village; they didn’t have time to enter today, but they would view them from the outside.

Bai Shuizhang accompanied them the whole way. The guests were split into two ox carts. Auntie Lanzhi returned the dolls to the guests. Tan Xueci lowered his eyelashes; he was wearing a rain poncho, the hood covering half his face, leaving only his elegant jawline visible. His thin fingers clutched the doll, making him look inexplicably pitiful.

When the ox cart reached the outskirts of a temple, Bai Shuizhang told them they had arrived. Tan Xueci also looked up.

That face, cold, elegant, yet frail, emerged from beneath the poncho. His eyes were slightly red, and his skin was deathly pale. He Sui, sitting opposite him, felt his heart skip a beat.

But Tan Xueci had already turned away to look at the temple.

“This is our village’s General Temple.” Bai Shuizhang’s dark face always wore a smile. He was actually quite handsome; aside from the fact that you might not find him if the lights were off at night, he had no flaws.

Bai Shuizhang scratched his head and said: “As for which general it is exactly, we’re not sure. Apparently, many years ago, a general died in battle at the Yan River and became the local River God, protecting the villagers. So Yanxia Village has worshipped him for hundreds of years.”

It was an earthen temple, not particularly large. One could faintly see a clay deity statue inside with peeling paint.

“Beside the General Temple,” Bai Shuizhang gestured to the right, “is the Granny Zhang Temple. She is the one people in our village pray to for children. In Yanxia Village, if we want to pray for a child or for a child’s safety, we don’t go to Mount Miaofeng; our vow-offering dolls are offered to Granny Zhang.”

The Granny Zhang Temple was much smaller, not even half the size of the General Temple. Tan Xueci peeked out for a bit before pulling back.

“Are you sick?” He Sui’s eyes had been fixed on his face. Seeing his flushed cheeks, he paused and asked in a low voice.

Without waiting for a reply, he reached out to touch Tan Xueci’s face. Tan Xueci pursed his lips and dodged backward. He Sui’s hand froze in mid-air; he waited half a minute before pulling it back.

As they sat on the ox cart, it grew dark on the way back. Tan Xueci held a small glass lantern; the warm, soft light illuminated his beautiful face. He Sui suddenly remembered the first time he met Tan Xueci when they were children.

He was in the same primary school as Tan Yanning back then, and they were deskmates. Tan Yanning had only been with the Tan family for half a year, having recently left the orphanage; he was thinner than children his age but very good-looking. He had a stubborn, competitive temperament and always wanted to be first.

On the rare occasions he didn’t get first place, he would sit in class and cry silently for ten minutes, then wipe his tears and return home as if nothing had happened.

He Sui had never met anyone like him.

He had constantly pestered Tan Yanning, following him to his house to play. Once, he looked up and saw a child peering down from the attic—a beautiful, pale, exhausted face. He asked Tan Yanning who that was.

Tan Yanning said it was his second brother.

But Tan Xueci didn’t come down to play. He Sui assumed he wouldn’t see him again. He was more interested in Tan Yanning anyway, so he didn’t give it much thought until one evening, after an argument with Tan Yanning, he hid in a thicket in the Tan family’s yard out of spite.

The sky gradually darkened, and the thicket became pitch black. Tan Yanning never came to find him.

He Sui was only seven years old then. He was actually scared, but walking out like that felt too embarrassing, so he forced himself to stay in the thicket.

Then, he saw a faint, tiny light glow outside the bushes. The branches were pushed aside by a snowy-white hand, and Tan Xueci’s beautiful, frail face peered in.

Tan Xueci was holding a small rabbit lantern. He blinked at him, and upon discovering a child hiding there, his face showed a hint of excitement as he asked, “Did you sneak into my house by yourself?”

It was the first time He Sui had ever seen what it truly meant for someone’s eyes to light up—in an instant, Tan Xueci’s eyes became bright as if filled with the whole world.

“…” He Sui said awkwardly, “A-Ning brought me.”

He thought Tan Xueci had seen them from the attic. Had he not? What terrible eyesight.

Tan Xueci gave a disappointed “oh” and asked, “Are you coming out? If not, I’m leaving.”

He Sui followed him out awkwardly. He was waiting for someone to find him anyway; now that there was a graceful exit, of course he took it.

…

He Sui’s heart suddenly moved. Could it be that Tan Xueci had liked him since back then? Love at first sight?

Because he said Tan Yanning had brought him, Tan Xueci was afraid Tan Yanning would be unhappy if he felt his friend was being stolen.

Is that why he didn’t dare play with him?

A pang of sorrow hit He Sui. If only the one he liked from the beginning had been Tan Xueci, things wouldn’t be so twisted now.

Lu Qi was in the production team’s car with the staff. He browsed Weibo for a while, his expression growing serious. More and more people were claiming Tan Xueci was shamelessly pestering He Sui. He Sui’s fan base was terrifying—mostly long-time fans with powerful combat capabilities.

The company saw that Tan Xueci was becoming popular and that He Sui hadn’t interfered, so they wanted to give Tan Xueci a push. The PR department had contacted him to discuss how to handle Tan Xueci’s scandal.

Tan Xueci and He Sui had been photographed together too many times before; their past relationship couldn’t be denied.

Now, they either had to have He Sui actively pursue Tan Xueci and have them get back together—putting Tan Xueci in a superior position—so the fans wouldn’t be able to say much since He Sui initiated it…

Or, they had to find a “marriage alliance” partner for Tan Xueci, and that person had to be even better than He Sui; otherwise, Tan Xueci would only face a new round of disparagement.

Lu Qi actually looked down on He Sui, but things being as they were, he felt getting back with He Sui was the better option.

Being his usual spineless self, he sent a message to Tan Xueci.

Tan Xueci didn’t look at his phone, but his company had contacted He Sui’s secretary to test the waters.

Only then did He Sui realize the internet was in an uproar. He frowned. Since no cameras were filming them now, he lowered his voice and said to Tan Xueci: “What exactly are you thinking? You’re not actually planning to listen to the He family and observe a three-year mourning period for my late uncle, are you?”

Tan Xueci turned his head.

“I can explain things to them,” He Sui consulted him with rare patience, fearing he wouldn’t understand. “I’ll say we were in a normal relationship, we had a fight before, but now we’ve made up. That way, no one will scold you anymore. What do you think?”

Tan Xueci didn’t think much of it. He raised his dark eyes and said softly: “But you were the one who made me marry him in the first place.”

He Sui was the one who sent him to enter a “ghost marriage.” If the He family had killed him immediately after the ceremony to bury him with He Xunye, what would it matter if He Sui cried at his grave?

It would only make him feel disgusted.

The ox cart had reached the courtyard entrance. Tan Xueci didn’t speak to He Sui again; clutching his cloth doll, he jumped down.

He Sui’s heart sank. Tan Xueci was still angry. He admitted he had crossed the line this time, and he could understand Tan Xueci’s anger.

The mountain village night seemed rather desolate. Tan Xueci walked at the back. When he looked up, his eyelid gave an inexplicable twitch.

He felt like… the headcount was wrong.

He silently looked at the backs of the other guests—everyone seemed to be there—along with several staff members. It was too dark at night to see exactly who was who.

1, 2, 3…

Tan Xueci counted silently in his head. When he reached 13, his heart went cold and he clenched his teeth. There had only been 13 people around him just now, but now there was one more.

Tan Xueci’s first instinct was to speed up and catch up with the others, but who knew if the one beside him was a ghost?

So he had to maintain his current pace until he entered the house.

They had dinner at a small restaurant in the village tonight. They would have tea and a few words before going to bed.

Tan Xueci sat in the room, his heart still anxious. No, there was an extra person among the guests.

There were originally six guests, but now there were seven. Yet it seemed that aside from him, no one noticed the extra guest, and he couldn’t tell which one was the extra; the count just never added up.

“Xiao Ci?” Beside him, Chen Qing waved a hand in front of his eyes and said with a smile, “What are you dazing off for?”

After only a day together, they all liked to say Xiao Ci was “dazed.” Tan Xueci didn’t like them.

Tan Xueci silently started counting from Chen Qing again. Fine beads of sweat appeared on his pale nose. No… still one extra.

There was electricity in the village at night, but Auntie Zhang’s family was used to lighting candles. Seeing Tan Xueci’s pale face in the candlelight, He Sui thought he was still afraid of the online vitriol.

The other guests were chatting about the dolls they made today. He Sui took a deep breath. After a night of deliberation, he finally made a decision and spoke deeply: “Tan Xueci.”

Tan Xueci, who was still counting, was startled by his name being called. His neck jerked in fright as he turned his head hurriedly.

He Sui gave the others an apologetic look. He knew the timing might not be ideal, but he truly felt he had to say it. He didn’t want Tan Xueci to be scolded and wronged anymore, nor did he want to miss his chance again.

“Xiao Ci,” he pressed a hand on Tan Xueci’s shoulder, his young and arrogant eyes showing a rare seriousness as he said, “I was wrong before. But I really… I really like you. Can you give me another chance?”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Tan Xueci never expected that when he used to hope He Sui would like him, He Sui had always been indifferent, yet now he suddenly spoke up.

“You…” Tan Xueci’s voice was dry.

But he no longer wanted to be with He Sui. If his “hubby” was a dream, it meant what he truly wanted was a boyfriend like He Xunye who would hold him and call him “baby.” If He Xunye was a ghost, then He Sui wasn’t even as good to him as a ghost.

He Sui was about to speak again when Tan Xueci interrupted him.

Tan Xueci’s voice was tight and a bit timid, yet his tone was firm. His fingers tightly gripped the seams of his pants as he said: “You… don’t say anymore. I don’t want to be with you. I don’t like you anymore.”

The other guests were stunned, covering their mouths.

He Sui had been trying to talk to Tan Xueci all along. Since this variety show was practically half a dating show, they had thought He Sui was here to win back his ex. For the sake of the show’s effect, they would surely reconcile. They had been ready to tease them, but Tan Xueci had refused without leaving any room for negotiation.

Despite his frail and pale face, every word of his refusal was clear. Everyone was dumbfounded, turning from excited onlookers into shrinking quails.

Even Zhang Chengyu was stunned. He had business dealings with the He family; He Sui was no playboy—he had the looks, the ability, and his private life was relatively clean. He hadn’t expected someone would actually reject He Sui.

He Sui’s expression also turned rigid. He thought Tan Xueci was just being spiteful. Besides, with so many cameras around, he assumed Tan Xueci would be too embarrassed to reject him.

Then he could coax Tan Xueci in private. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to coax a lover; he just hadn’t done it for Tan Xueci before.

He thought Tan Xueci was a love-starved little fool who would happily stay by his side if he was just a bit nicer to him. He never expected a day would come when he would be rejected by Tan Xueci so many times in a row.

“What exactly do you mean?” He Sui’s face suddenly darkened, a nameless fire surging within him.

His eyes were naturally fierce, and his cold expression was quite intimidating. Tan Xueci flinched. He Sui’s hand was still gripping his shoulder, squeezing so hard his bones hurt.

He Sui had grown up pampered in a wealthy family; when had he ever suffered such a slight? In a moment of anger, he forgot the occasion and lashed out, “I don’t even mind that you’ve been married. Are you really going to spend your whole life with that dead man?!”

The bullet comments had been stunned since He Sui’s confession, not knowing what to say.

He Sui’s fans were slapped in the face; they had thought Tan Xueci was pestering He Sui, but it turned out He Sui was the one who couldn’t let go.

After Tan Xueci rejected He Sui, several people who had long been annoyed by He Sui emerged to mock him.

[Told you so. Your ‘oppa’ isn’t some golden nugget that everyone has to like.]

[And honestly, this live stream doesn’t lie. With so many close-up shots, Tan Xueci’s looks are top-tier. I used to think he was reaching for He Sui, but now I’m not sure who’s reaching for whom. He Sui is handsome, but he’s still a tier below.]

No one refuted this. Tan Xueci was indeed beautiful—it was impossible to deny even for his haters.

They thought this was shocking enough, but the real bombshell came at the end. After He Sui’s last sentence, the bullet comments froze for a few seconds before exploding.

[??????]

[Holy sht! Holy sht! A real hidden marriage scandal? And the husband is already dead??? Shocked.jpg]

[Wait, wait, did I hear right? I thought the marriage thing was fake. How could he be married so young? And now we get the confirmation just like that?]

[Can he even say that? Tan Xueci is a bit ungrateful, isn’t he? Is there anyone in the He family who can compare to Young Master He? Aside from the elders who might have higher status… but what, does he prefer old men who don’t bathe? He really was pestering Young Master He before; the paparazzi have so many photos. What’s with the act now? He played himself.]

Tan Xueci’s ears were ringing. He was still feverish, his body hot and aching, and his eyelids were watery and red.

What a chaotic situation… there seemed to be a ghost among the guests, but he couldn’t find it.

And He Sui suddenly confessed to him.

Tan Xueci suddenly realized something, and in an instant, he felt like he was crumbling. His face turned deathly pale. If He Sui revealed his “ghost marriage,” would he be unable to stay in the entertainment industry? He still wanted to continue making dolls tomorrow.

He had no skills; he wouldn’t have anything to eat in the future. Where else could he go? Back to the psychiatric hospital?

Tan Xueci’s eyes were rimmed with red. His lips trembled; he wanted to argue but was afraid He Sui would say more. Tears threatened to fall, and his nose felt increasingly sore.

They were just bullying him because his husband was dead. Maybe there really were ghosts in this world, but He Xunye was just a dream of his.

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. Everyone, including the viewers, jumped in fright. They had been so focused on Tan Xueci and He Sui that no one noticed the door behind them.

[Crap, that gave me a jolt.]

[Who’s knocking on the door in the middle of the night? It made me look at my own door.]

Not to mention the viewers, even the director almost jumped out of his skin. It was raining outside, and all the staff were either in the inner room or out of camera range.

It was nearly 1 AM in the middle of nowhere; there shouldn’t be anyone outside. Not even a ghost should be in this remote mountain village.

Everyone looked at each other, feeling inexplicably spooked. Finally, a cameraman closest to the door went to open it.

A torrential rain was falling in the dead of night, and a dull thunder rolled across the village. A man stood outside the door dressed in a solid black suit, his figure even more imposing than a male model. Despite the rain, his black pointed handmade leather shoes were completely free of mud. His bony, pale, and spindly hand held a dripping black long-handled umbrella.

The man’s deep, cold eyes were framed by the night behind him. His appearance was impeccable, possessing an indescribable elegance and handsomeness. He looked up and scanned everyone in the room.

Finally, his gaze settled on Tan Xueci’s pale, tearful face—and the hand gripping Tan Xueci’s shoulder.

“Sir…” The director trembled for a while before finding his voice. Facing the man, his tone involuntarily became more respectful. “Who… who are you?”

The production team hadn’t invited this person!

In the middle of the night, this person looked more like a nocturnal ghost than a human.

The pale and handsome man ignored him. He only stared into Tan Xueci’s red eyes, suppressing a heavy anger. His gaze was gloomy yet tender as he asked:

“Baby, who bullied you?”

He had left home happy with his little backpack; only a day and a half had passed, and he had been reduced to this.

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