Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Qi Yue silently comforted himself: forget it, it was better that Shuangshuang didn’t believe in ghosts, as it helped him protect his secret identity.

He had long since decided that under no circumstances could Shuangshuang know he was no longer human. He simply could not bear to see the heartbreak and overwhelming grief that would follow if she learned of his death.

To ensure his disguise remained intact, he had to safeguard Shuangshuang’s materialistic worldview at all costs! Qi Yue clenched his fist inwardly.

At the same time, Sun Zhanyuan, lacking confidence, did not challenge Xue Tinghe’s words. “B-but… the people on the bus were really saved by it!” he stammered.

Xue Tinghe countered, “How do you know it was a ghost that saved them and not lightning?”

“Because my sister told me so,” Sun Zhanyuan hesitated but said nothing more. He had promised his sister not to reveal anything, even under Xue Tinghe’s questioning.

Xue Tinghe thought Sun Zhanyuan was intimidated by his stern tone, so he softened his voice and spoke earnestly: “Why did the white sedan suddenly lose control? The owner said the car inexplicably turned as cold as an ice cellar, freezing her hands and feet so she couldn’t steer—the ghost likely targeted her from the start.

“Fortune smiled upon her, though. The malevolent spirit she encountered was already facing divine punishment. When the two cars were about to collide, the heavenly wrath struck down the evil ghost, saving them. The remaining lightning after the spirit’s destruction wasn’t strong enough to harm anyone but carried a pure, intense yang energy, which turned this disaster into a blessing for both cars’ passengers.”

Everyone suddenly understood—they were incredibly lucky.

Sun Zhanyuan admired Xue Tinghe and believed his words without doubt. Though he sensed the details differed slightly from his sister’s firsthand experience, the general process and outcome seemed largely accurate.

Sun Jiayuan was also watching her brother’s livestream and grew increasingly irritated seeing Sun Zhanyuan look at Xue Tinghe with starry eyes.

After hearing Xue Tinghe’s explanation, she didn’t doubt their benefactor but became even more suspicious of Xue Tinghe. This man spoke with such solemn grandeur; if it weren’t for the mini bobblehead Buddha he gifted Sun Zhanyuan and the ride that benefactor took afterward, she might have believed Xue Tinghe’s ghost story outright.

The guests in the car continued discussing ghosts with Xue Tinghe, drawing even the livestream audience into the debate, forgetting the earlier quarrels.

Until a comment popped up: “They’ve been on the bus for so long—why haven’t they started driving yet?”

Jiang Mingshuang checked her phone anxiously. “We’ve been on for so long—why isn’t Brother Gu here yet? He’s always punctual. What if something happened?”

Mentioning Gu Yunshuang instantly chilled the lively atmosphere in the car. It was clear everyone disliked him intensely.

Sun Zhanyuan crossed his arms and sneered coldly. “Punctual? Don’t blatantly lie just because you’re in the same company. He’s often late, acts like a diva, and treats people with cold indifference.”

Actress Hu Lijing smiled brightly to smooth things over. “Maybe there’s traffic. Let’s wait a bit longer; it’s no big deal.”

Xie Yuhua giggled. “Yeah, we’re free anyway. Waiting an hour or two isn’t a problem—he must be big-time.”

Qiao Yuanzhong was displeased. “An hour or two? That’s too long. My baby’s livestream ended late last night, and she got up early today. She can’t wait that long. Master Xue, why don’t you call him and ask him to come right away? He’d listen to you.”

Xue Tinghe frowned, annoyed. “I’m not close to him. Don’t drag me into this.”

Qiao Yuanzhong sighed and coaxed Xie Yuhua affectionately, “Then there’s nothing to do. Honey, if you get tired, lean on me. I’ll make him apologize later; otherwise, this won’t end.”

Jiang Mingshuang looked conflicted, wanting to defend Gu Yunshuang but unsure how. Secretly, she was delighted—surely the livestream comments were roasting Gu Yunshuang mercilessly by now.

Especially Xue Tinghe’s remark about not being close to him—it sealed the rumor that Gu Yunshuang shamelessly clung to Xue Tinghe.

Unbeknownst to them, the livestream audience was dumbfounded, finding the situation so awkward they wished they could dig a magic fortress with their toes.

“??????”

“???????!!”

“Hahaha, so this is your ‘noble and upright’ Master Xue, ‘pure and genuine’ Xie Yuhua, and ‘warm little sun’ Jiang Mingshuang! Truly eye-opening!”

“So noble, pure, and sunny—openly slandering others with no shame at all. Not shady in the slightest!”

“Gu Yunshuang: I’m just quietly watching you perform.”

“Can you stop talking to yourselves? There’s a big person sitting right behind you. Are you blind or are we dumb?”

“Although I dislike Gu Yunshuang and feel everyone ignoring him is satisfying, is it really okay to slander someone so openly?”

“Haha, now I see where all those rumors about Gu Yunshuang come from. No proof needed—just a mouthpiece twisting facts right in front of the person. Learned something new.”

Their fans couldn’t find any excuses, awkwardly watching Gu Yunshuang’s supporters get righteously angry, while bystanders were displeased.

The director and crew monitored the livestream, baffled by the comments. They squinted at the camera, seeing no sign of Gu Yunshuang, but with so many viewers insisting he was there, it seemed unlikely to be false.

In broad daylight, the group broke out in cold sweat.

One crew member panicked, “Director, what should we do? Should we just tell the audience this is a paranormal event? Might attract more curious viewers and boost ratings.”

The director rolled his eyes. “Master Xue is right there! If we call it paranormal now, are we saying Master Xue is weaker than that thing, or that thing is stronger than Master Xue? That’d be slapping him in the face.”

He and his boss didn’t want to offend Master Xue.

With years of experience, the director quickly thought of a solution and took out his phone to notify the guests to cooperate.

At that moment, a soft laugh echoed in the livestream.

Like a silent glass shattering, it revealed the figure they thought hadn’t arrived: Gu Yunshuang sat silently in the last row of the bus, expressionless, watching the people in front as if he had been there all along.

Beside him sat a man in black, only half visible in the camera. The man shifted slightly, revealing his entire face to the lens.

The director and crew were stunned, instinctively looking at Xue Tinghe and shaking their heads—something was off. In looks, aura, and mystery, this man eclipsed Xue Tinghe.

Everyone had guessed Gu Yunshuang would find someone fitting the description to play his childhood friend, but they didn’t expect him to find someone even more handsome than Xue Tinghe. Even if such a person existed, they assumed he’d be just a pretty face, lacking Xue Tinghe’s charisma and depth.

But the man before them shattered all those assumptions.

His features were sharp and intense. Simply sitting there, he gave an impression akin to gazing into an abyss. His presence overshadowed Xue Tinghe completely.

They once thought Xue Tinghe was powerful and handsome, mysterious and profound. But now, seeing him beside this black-clad man, Xue Tinghe seemed somewhat contrived, like a counterfeit facing the genuine article.

Realizing this, the director, crew, and viewers fell into an eerie silence.

Only Gu Yunshuang’s fans and casual admirers gushed over the man’s looks, calling him their beloved childhood sweetheart and older brother.

Sun Jiayuan was shocked but felt a weight lift—she hadn’t expected the benefactor to be Gu Yunshuang’s mysterious childhood friend.

The people in the car turned to see the man in the back, each face growing more colorful—more chilling than seeing a ghost in broad daylight.

Qi Yue applauded, his slender, jade-like hands clapping with a deep, pleasant sound. “I’ve heard variety shows are full of drama. Look, the show hasn’t even started yet, and it’s already unfolding spectacularly. Please, continue.”

The others grew even more displeased.

Jiang Mingshuang recalled checking the back row when boarding and was certain no one was there then. So Gu Yunshuang and the man must have been hiding, waiting for this moment to make their move.

But Gu Yunshuang was naive; the cameras had been on before they boarded, surely capturing their sneaky behavior. He had only made things worse.

Frowning, Jiang Mingshuang asked guiltily, “Brother Gu, you were here all along? Why didn’t you say anything? I thought something had delayed you.”

Sun Zhanyuan, hot-tempered, snapped, “You’re here but silent? What, were we just waiting for you for fun, or are you treating us like monkeys?”

Sun Jiayuan wanted to leap into the screen and throttle her brother for being so foolishly outspoken.

Gu Yunshuang frowned, about to retort, but Qi Yue beat him to it.

His face full of shock, he said, “How can you lie so blatantly and force labels on others? When you couldn’t pin one, you quickly made up another. You’re better at selling hats than any hat seller. Fortunately, the livestream was on before you boarded. The audience can vouch—we’ve been sitting properly since boarding, never leaving, never hiding. Instead, it was you, Jiang something, who kept glancing our way. My Shuangshuang even nodded and greeted you.”

He patted his chest with relief, as if saying, “So this is how dark and dirty the entertainment industry is. Lesson learned.”