ALWARFC Chapter 13

The production team sure knows how to stir up excitement. Four interactive video clips correspond to four celebrity guests, but their family members are all deliberately blurred out—you can’t see their figures or faces clearly. Even their voices have been processed into robotic tones.

It’s obviously telling you: “Want to see the most authentic interactions between celebrities and their families? Then follow our live stream! Every day from 17:00 to 23:00—don’t miss it!”

For example, in the first clip, viewers could only see the top star whose face was obscured by books, but the so-called “Great-Grandfather” mentioned in the official announcement was nowhere to be seen.

【xswl. I really want to see what the Great-Grandfather who can put Su Zhao Cai in his place looks like.】

【Why create this air of mystery when you’ve already announced their identities? Unless… the old man looks too scary and they’re afraid of scaring viewers away?】

【It’s definitely weird. He should be at least 80 if he’s a great-grandfather, right? But that hand we caught a glimpse of in the video—if you told me it was a white jade sculpture, I’d believe it. Did they overdo the editing?】

Wherever Su Ran is, there’s always drama. Even his great-grandfather became a target of attacks. The comment section was such a chaotic mess that it was unbearable to look at—until the video moved on to the second clip, slightly easing the tension.

As the screen faded to black and lit up again, the camera focused on a massive LCD TV playing a Ruby boy band concert from five years ago. The atmosphere was electric as team leader Su Ran performed a high-difficulty solo routine that had the whole crowd hyped.

In the next second, a long, slender hand reached out to grab the remote, shutting the TV off. The music faded into silence.

The camera then shifted to Lu Huanjin, an investor who had risen to fame in recent years. He was dressed in a suit and trousers, with his shirt buttoned all the way up. His features were striking and his presence was commanding. At that moment, he was patiently persuading the man sitting on the sofa: “Dad, the production team is still waiting for us to record the pilot episode. If you want to watch Ranran, there’s no rush. You’ll have plenty of time once we join the filming.”

The man on the sofa wasn’t shown on camera, but a wistful sigh could be heard, followed by a merciless takedown of his son: “Stop feeding me empty promises. The whole entertainment industry knows that you and Ranran have the worst relationship. I’m the one stuck in the middle, suffering as an old father. Can’t even fangirl in peace without being caught in your feud.”

Lu Huanjin: “…”

The comment section exploded in laughter.

【HAHAHAHA even Dad Lu knows how bad Lu Huanjin and Su Ran’s relationship is. I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts.】

【Who would’ve thought? The most irreconcilable rivals in the entertainment industry aren’t even two celebrities—it’s a top star and a famous investor.】

The screen went dark again. When it lit up, the living room was filled with over a dozen suitcases. Housekeepers were carefully packing up household appliances. From the looks of it, they were planning to move the entire home.

Under the camera’s gaze, Film Emperor Xie Wei—mature and handsome—gave the assistant director a helpless smile and explained, “These are all the furniture and appliances Xiao Qing is used to. If we don’t bring them over, he won’t be comfortable living there.”

The assistant director’s cheek twitched for a second, but he still forced a laugh and nodded cooperatively, “Understood, understood.”

Bullet Screen Comment: 【I’ve long heard that Film Emperor Xie has a delicate and dramatic little pampered husband at home. Turns out, it’s totally true.】

The screen faded from black to light, bringing the final video clip. Staff members were interviewing Sunny, a top-tier scriptwriter. This guest was a strikingly attractive mixed-race individual with black hair, emerald eyes, and a charming smile. Their gentle personality made them extremely cooperative—they answered every question the production team asked without hesitation.

The interview soon reached its conclusion.

The bullet screen showed mild surprise:【Wait… is this last segment actually peaceful? Feels kinda weird.】

The next second, the sound of shattering glass rang out from outside. The camera quickly panned to show a mischievous cat paw aggressively pushing a glass orb off the desk. In an instant—shards scattered everywhere, making a total mess.

Sunny’s furious roar shook the heavens: “You little demon! Prepare to die!!!”

The final shot was of Sunny wielding a slipper, chasing their cat son all over the place.

【HAHAHAHA I FREAKING KNEW IT WOULDN’T BE THAT SIMPLE! I’M DYING LAUGHING!】

Each of the four preview clips had its own dramatic highlight, but without a doubt, the one that gained the most traction was the scene of the top star getting schooled. Countless marketing accounts rushed to clip that moment, jokingly captioning it: “Am I the only one who’s rewatched the ‘Great-Grandfather Teaching His Grandson a Lesson’ video a million times?”

Coincidentally, Su Ran himself came across this very video. The moment he clicked on it, a special notification popped up:

— Xie Wei liked this video.

— Sunny liked this video.

— Lu Huanjin liked this video.

Among the four groups of guests, the other three were all watching his downfall for entertainment.

A minute later, Lu Huanjin slowly responded: “Accidental like.”

Xie Wei shamelessly added: “Same here.”

Su Ran was furious. His hair practically stood on end. “…Fuck! I’m not letting them off—especially that bastard Lu Huanjin! I should’ve thrown more water in his face last time!”

With that, he stormed out, looking ready to commit murder.

Bai Songyin hurried to stop him: “Brother Ran! If you go punch him now, you’ll definitely trend on Weibo again! The show starts tomorrow—don’t create more drama!”

Su Ran shot him a glare. “Move. Since when have I ever tolerated anyone other than Great-Grandfather?”

Bai Songyin shrank his neck in fear and could only desperately turn to Su Weisheng for help.

Yet, Su Weisheng remained completely calm. He simply glanced at his great-great-grandson and suddenly asked: “Where’s the protective charm I gave you? You don’t want to wear it?”

At the mention of that giant turtle talisman, Su Ran’s face twisted in agony. That thing was like shooting himself in the foot—whoever wore it was the real turtle.

He rubbed his face and quickly put on a serious expression, explaining to his great-grandfather, “Of course not! It’s just… too precious, so I kept it safe. From now on, I’ll definitely carry it with me every day!”

Su Weisheng let out a soft scoff but didn’t expose his lie. Instead, he casually remarked, “Do whatever you want.”

Su Ran’s eyes lit up instantly—he never expected his great-grandfather to be so understanding.

Bai Songyin was frantic. “Great-Grandfather, Brother Ran is definitely going to cause trouble…”

Su Ran smacked the top of Bai Songyin’s head. “Shut up. I’m not going to hit him—I’m just going to return the favor in my own way!” With that, he dashed out in a hurry.

Click. The door shut behind him.

Su Weisheng casually pulled a can of cola from the fridge and took a sip, glancing at Bai Songyin’s anxious, bitter face. “What are you so worried about?”

“Great-Grandfather, you don’t understand—Brother Ran and Lu Huanjin have an absolutely terrible relationship. The type where ‘if you start something, I’ll escalate it tenfold’…” Bai Songyin sighed in exasperation.

“Mm.” Su Weisheng glanced at the trending page photos. “Judging by their faces, they still have a long way to go in this battle.”

As they spoke, the trending list suddenly flooded with negative gossip about Lu Huanjin. The most damning and ridiculous piece? A video of the esteemed investor singing in the early morning—completely off-key, wailing like a banshee, utterly destroying his usual refined and noble image. The contrast was jarring.

But that wasn’t all. Someone had also dug up a blackmail-worthy clip from Lu Huanjin’s past. When was still a trainee idol, he confessed his heartfelt admiration to the already-famous Su Ran.

Bai Songyin muttered in a low voice, “This has to be Brother Ran’s doing. Only he would have this kind of footage!”

Although Lu Huanjin was an investor, he had gained a massive fan following due to various reasons. Now, Weibo was in chaos—debates, clarifications, and heated arguments flooded the platform.

Caught in the eye of the storm, Lu Huanjin boldly responded to the resurfaced confession video.

Lu Huanjin: Yeah, and I still really like Ranran. @Su Zhaocai

BANG!

A loud crash echoed from the hallway. Bai Songyin rushed to open the door, only to be left speechless at the sight before him—Su Ran had fallen down the stairs and was now sprawled on the floor, his head covered in bumps.

“Brother Ran, what happened to you…?” Bai Songyin was dumbfounded.

Su Ran clutched his head, cursing non-stop as he staggered to his feet. “That bastard Lu Huanjin is absolutely disgusting! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—does he not feel sick typing that shit himself?! If I had known this would happen, I wouldn’t have leaked that video. Now I’m the one getting dragged into the mess for no reason…”

It was obvious—that Weibo post had shocked him so badly, he tumbled down the stairs.

Su Weisheng glanced at his great-great-grandson’s sorry state and remarked nonchalantly, “If you don’t wear the protective charm, this kind of thing will keep happening to you every day.”

Su Ran, who was still cursing, suddenly froze. A look of sheer terror spread across his face. He stammered, “Great-Grandfather… Are you saying… this is a sign of the bloodline curse starting to show its effects? Shit, does that mean I don’t have much time left?!”

Su Weisheng gave him a deeply meaningful look and asked, “Within a year, it will inevitably come true. Whether the Su bloodline ends or not doesn’t matter to me—after all, I’m immortal. But for you…” He shook his head and left the sentence unfinished.

Su Ran bolted back inside the house, frantically digging through drawers and cabinets until he found the damn turtle-shaped protective charm. He immediately strapped it on, finally feeling a tiny bit of security.

“Holy shit… This is way too scary!”

Bai Songyin looked back and forth between Su Ran and Su Weisheng, utterly confused.

Su Weisheng rested his chin on one hand, watching the scene unfold with a mischievous smirk as if entertained by the spectacle. However, his smile gradually faded when he glanced outside.

A strong premonition surged within him—his heavenly tribulation might be approaching soon.

“I’m going into meditation. Don’t let anyone disturb me,” Su Weisheng instructed Bai Songyin.

“Oh, okay.”

Bai Songyin had seen Su Weisheng meditate and cultivate many times before, so he quickly set up a cushion on the balcony for him and even planned to head out to buy some drinks and dinner, making sure Su Weisheng would have something to eat when he was done.

However, no one expected that Su Weisheng’s seclusion would last much longer than planned.

—

The next day. The official live broadcast of the show.

Early in the morning, the program’s backstage was a chaotic mess, with staff scrambling to finalize guest groupings, confirm the live broadcast schedule, and ensure that all guests had arrived on site.

First group? Present.

Second group? Present.

Third group? Also present.

But as noon approached, the fourth and final group was still nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Su Ran’s group? Why aren’t they here yet?!” The assistant director was on the verge of losing it, dreading any last-minute complications—yet, of course, the one group he feared most had run into trouble.

The staff, equally anxious, reported, “They said something unexpected happened, and they can’t make it right now… But they didn’t specify what exactly happened.”

“Where are they now?”

“…At home.”

Assistant Director: ??? What the hell? Don’t tell me they’re backing out at the last minute?!

As the live broadcast time crept closer, he hastily contacted the chief director, reporting the situation. “Director You, I don’t know what the hell is going on over there, but Su Ran and his company still haven’t given a clear explanation. This is a mess. If this keeps up, we should just find replacements and deal with the breach of contract later!”

You Sui was driving toward the recording site when he heard this. His eyes narrowed slightly, his voice calm yet sharp. “You’re certain they’re not here?”

“Positive.”

The man’s large hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, suddenly making a sharp turn on the highway. The sports car drifted smoothly, changing directions. A short chuckle escaped his throat—not only was he not panicked, but he even seemed a little excited.

“What’s the fun in replacing them? If there’s trouble, then as the show’s director, I should check it out personally.”

The more complicated the situation, the more interesting it was.

—

A knock sounded at the door.

He Heng opened it, only to stare in shock at the uninvited guest. “Director You, you—?”

You Sui stood at the entrance, a contract rolled up in his hand. He glanced at his watch and casually reminded them: “Three hours left.”

He Heng’s expression instantly darkened further.

The man pushed past him and strode inside. He Heng instinctively moved to stop him but, in the end, let his hand drop.

You Sui’s gaze swept lazily over the dilapidated house. However, when his eyes landed on the balcony, his expression gradually stiffened.

There, by the balcony, a young man sat cross-legged in meditation. His strikingly exquisite features were completely overshadowed by his deathly pale complexion—his lips were icy cold, his chest utterly still, and his raven-black hair cascaded smoothly behind him, giving him the eerie stillness of a breathtaking yet lifeless corpse. Even the sunlight that poured in that illuminating his figure, seemed to be swallowed by an ominous gloom.

Meanwhile, He Heng was arguing with Su Ran. “What exactly are you all hiding from me? Why can’t he be sent to a hospital? What’s going on? This little Great-Grandfather… is he even still alive?”

Yes. Was he still alive? Or perhaps… he had long since died.

Unconsciously, You Sui found himself drawn in by the eerie beauty, his steps bringing him closer and closer.

He knelt down. His gaze locked onto the long, thick lashes of the motionless beauty. He listened intently—trying to catch even the faintest breath.

Nothing.

It was as if this person had truly departed from the world.

But strangely, You Sui wasn’t afraid in the slightest. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against the beauty’s cheek, trying to confirm whether his skin still held any warmth.

Suddenly—

A slender, ice-cold hand clamped tightly around his wrist.

Su Weisheng’s dark, abyss-like pupils bore silently yet intensely into him.

For a moment, neither spoke. One was silent and indifferent, the other innocent and curious.

“Great-Grandfather—!”

“Great-Grandfather, you’re finally awake!” A group of people rushed forward in relief.

You Sui smiled slightly. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No need.”

Su Weisheng’s voice was hoarse, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he reached out and snatched away the contract You Sui was holding in his other hand.

You Sui let go cooperatively, puzzled by his actions.

Su Weisheng tapped the rolled-up contract against You Sui’s palm, not too hard, not too light, much like a teacher disciplining a student with a ruler.

Under You Sui’s startled gaze, he spoke calmly: “Don’t casually touch your elders. Got it?”

Only after delivering this lesson did he rise, stretching his stiff joints. Then, looking around at the faces filled with worry and shock, he remained unusually composed.

“Let’s go. Isn’t the show about to start?”

“O-Oh… okay…” The others hesitated before finally responding, though their faces were still full of doubt and disbelief. Was recording still possible in this situation? Especially now that the show’s director had witnessed everything firsthand.

He Heng hesitated, glancing uncertainly at You Sui.

But Director You, true to his reputation as a reckless maverick, seemed entirely unfazed—even after getting his palm smacked and being scolded by a supposed ‘elder’.

After a brief moment of shock, his curiosity about this “resurrected senior” only grew stronger.

“Let’s go, the show is about to start.”

You Sui stood up, smiling pleasantly as he played along. “My car’s parked right downstairs. We can go together… Little Great-Grandfather?”

Su Weisheng responded casually, completely indifferent to the curiosity in the man’s eyes. Without another word, he walked down the stairs and got into the car.

It was only after the surroundings quieted down that he finally took a moment to glance at the new thing that had suddenly appeared in his mind.

An Underworld Live-Streaming App.

…What the hell was this?

Where was his heavenly tribulation?

Where was his massive, unavoidable heavenly tribulation?

Why the hell did it turn into this nonsense?!

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