[I’ll never jinx it again. I’m starting to miss the days without live streams.]
This heartfelt comment was upvoted by countless old ghosts.
But even so, when the High Priest inquired about the former monarch Yuan Le of the previous dynasty, everyone was still forced to reveal whatever information they knew—just to make him stop using his divine powers sooner.
The Curse of Sorrow had already been paused. Some ghosts claimed to have seen him in the underworld about 170 years ago, though they weren’t sure if he had already drawn a reincarnation number. Others insisted it was impossible—after all, 130 years ago, they had seen him in the mortal realm, still in his prime, clearly having mastered the art of immortality.
In the end, there was no definite answer. Truth and falsehoods were hopelessly tangled together.
Watching the live stream from the underworld, Su Laijin and the others grew anxious. They wished they could hold a trial on the spot, interrogating each ghost one by one and dragging out those who were just following the crowd, spouting nonsense, and providing false information for a beating.
Yet their High Priest father remained as composed as ever.
He even had the leisure to sketch while watching the barrage of comments.
Only after the ghosts had finished their chaotic chatter did he place his drawing before the screen. It was an ink portrait—just a few simple strokes, yet it captured Yuan Le’s features and demeanor with striking accuracy. Even the little ghosts who had never encountered the former monarch would be able to recognize Yuan Le himself in the underworld with this painting.
[You may be the High Priest, but it’s been two hundred years. Times have changed, sir. Do you still want to order us around?]
[Can’t you find him yourself? Or are you saying the High Priest’s domain is actually in the mortal world? LMAO, if that’s the case, there’s nothing to be afraid of.]
[Don’t say that. Back then, the High Priest quelled the chaos and stabilized the world. Aside from the rebel army, who here didn’t benefit from that? Or… are the ones talking now actually rebels?]
[Matters of the living should be settled while alive. I’ve been dead for 180 years—why am I still being ordered around?]
[Did you find the button to turn off the livestream or what, acting all cocky…]
[…No.]
The underworld’s bullet comments were all over the place. Su Weisheng had no doubt that without the deterrent of the Great Compassion Mantra, most of these old ghosts would never obediently follow orders. After all, he was never some universally admired idol back in the day—he was the kind of demon king who wreaked havoc wherever he went.
But relying solely on threats to get them to do things? Even if they were forced to comply, they’d just slack off and drag their feet. That was never a long-term solution, nor was it Su Weisheng’s way of handling things.
For someone accustomed to being in control, making people willingly complete a task was the easiest thing in the world.
Sitting in his study, he casually crossed one leg over the other, leaned back slightly, and tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, drawing attention back to him. Then, he spoke unhurriedly to the livestream, “Next, we’re going to play a game. It’s completely optional—if you’re interested, join in. If you’re not, no pressure.”
[Huh? For real?]
[Optional? Well, if the game isn’t fun, this general definitely won’t participate. If you want to use me, you better offer something that satisfies me.]
The moment the High Priest eased up a little, the underworld’s old ghosts instantly started acting up, even entertaining the idea that they might have a chance to turn the tables on him. If so… wouldn’t that be a perfect opportunity for revenge?
In just one hour, despite everyone outwardly dismissing the idea and claiming they would never participate, their emotions unconsciously surged with excitement. They stared intently at the livestream, eagerly awaiting the High Priest’s next move.
Meanwhile, in the old ancestral home of the Su family in the underworld, Su Yinian and his son, Su Cheng, were utterly confused.
Su Yinian turned to Su Laijin and asked, “Not forcing participation? Isn’t that just handing over the initiative? Look at those arrogant old ghosts—using the Great Compassion Mantra to suppress them all at once would be far more efficient.”
Su Cheng nodded in agreement. “Great-grandfather doesn’t seem like someone who would be this accommodating. What’s going on?”
Only Su Laijin paced back and forth with a strange expression on his face, goosebumps rising as he muttered, “It’s here… It’s that sinister, deceitful, and insidious feeling again—that terrifying sensation of being manipulated without even realizing it, thinking you have the upper hand when you’ve actually stepped right into his trap…”
The other ghosts: ???
Su Laijin stopped in his tracks, irritably pointing at the chat. “What do you guys know? Look at the usernames posting comments—every single one of them is some fool who’s never dealt with my father before. Anyone who’s ever been screwed over by the High Priest wouldn’t dare provoke or respond right now. Because… the moment you show interest in this game, you’ve already become his prey.”
At this, his face twisted slightly, clearly recalling some rather unpleasant memories. “And on top of that… this game is bound to be incredibly, incredibly sinister.”
The other ghosts had yet to understand the deep fear and wariness that the true victims of the High Priest harbored.
At this moment, Su Weisheng’s voice once again echoed through the livestream. His tone carried a lazy smile as he casually said, “Shall we play a round of Underworld Werewolf?”
“From now on, if any of you spot the ghost in this portrait or see a ghost who has interacted with them, you can report it to me. Once verified, you’ll receive a reward—I guarantee you’ll have a blast in this game.”
Su Laijin’s mind buzzed, and he murmured under his breath, “It’s over. There’s no way the underworld will be at peace now.”
Old Jiang scoffed at his exaggeration. “Come on, really? You always act like the High Priest is some kind of god, thinking he can do anything! I acknowledge his achievements, but stirring up the entire underworld with just a few words about a game? Impossible.”
Su Laijin gave him a glance and said in a wistful tone, “You’re still young, so you don’t understand. I get it, it’s fine. You’ll understand soon enough.”
His dad would make sure the entire underworld understood.
“Still young” · 90-year-old Old Jiang: “…”
Su Cheng asked with concern, “What kind of reward will Great-Grandfather give? Magical artifacts? But before I came down here, I already sold off the last of his burial goods. Does he even have any artifacts left to give away?”
The livestream chat was also curious about the same thing.
[What kind of reward? Do you think you can just say you’ll give us something and brush us off?]
[So boring. I’m not participating.]
[Does the High Priest have any other good stuff? Take it out, and let’s see…]
Su Weisheng drawled lazily, “Third prize: the ability to help underworld ghosts send dreams to the living, allowing them to fulfill their unfinished wishes.”
Huh???
As soon as he said this, newly deceased ghosts—those who had only been dead for a few decades—immediately poked their heads out. Was this for real? Such a great opportunity actually existed?
Su Weisheng continued, “Second prize: a one-day tour of the living world for underworld ghosts.”
!!!
Hearing this, even the old ghosts who had been dead for over a century got excited and popped their heads out. No way—they still had a chance to visit the mortal realm again?
Then, Su Weisheng revealed his trump card: “First prize: a full set of the Great Compassion Mantra, along with a pair of noise-canceling earplugs that ensure absolute silence when worn.”
What did this mean? Essentially, you could wear the noise-canceling earplugs yourself while blasting the Great Compassion Mantra in all directions—persecuting your ghostly neighbors, starting with you.
Wait, there was actually such a sinister tactic?! The mischievous ghosts with a penchant for chaos were overjoyed!
Just a second ago, the old ghosts in the live stream were arrogantly declaring their disinterest. The next second, they had all transformed into the High Priest’s most devoted fanboys.
[Me, me, me! I have to join this game!]
[I swear, I’m not interested in those noise-canceling earplugs! I just want to do something for the High Priest, that’s all! No more talking—I’m going ghost hunting now!]
[Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit—this first prize is downright evil! It’s not that I want the earplugs, but I sure as hell don’t want to see someone else wearing them while blasting the Great Compassion Mantra at me! I have to win this prize!]
The moment the Werewolf game and its prizes were announced, the entire underworld was left in shock.
How could there be such an insane, morally bankrupt, yet irresistibly tempting game?
Old Jiang was completely dumbfounded. By the time he snapped out of it, the underworld had already descended into a ridiculous state of mutual reporting and ghost-on-ghost persecution. He turned to Su Laijin and said, “Your dad… I admit defeat.”
Su Laijin’s expression was numb. “Standard play. Nothing impressive.”
After sending the ghosts off on their recycled labor assignments, Su Weisheng attempted to find the button to end the livestream. When he failed, he simply minimized the window and moved it aside so it wouldn’t block his view.
For now, he gave up on the idea of performing the last rites for Yuan Le. Instead, he put his prayer beads back on and headed downstairs.
In the dining area, the young couple, Song Qing and Xie Wei, were whispering sweet nothings to each other by the window, looking very much in love. But the moment the little drama queen spotted his idol dad, he immediately forgot about his husband and excitedly grabbed his phone, rushing over.
Meanwhile, Su Weisheng retrieved a bottle of pre-brewed cold brew fruit tea from the bar’s fridge.
Little drama queen Song eagerly presented his phone like a treasure and excitedly said, “Great-Grandfather, the A-shares we bought earlier really went up! At this rate, they’ll triple for sure!”
Su Weisheng glanced at the screen casually and asked, “What’s the first thing you want to buy now that you have money?”
“Of course, I’m treating you and Ah Wei to a feast!” Song Qing answered with absolute certainty as if he had rehearsed this response countless times in his head. “After we eat, we’ll go pick out a car. I’ve had my eye on a convertible for a long time! I even bought my driver’s license, but I still haven’t bought the car. This time, I can finally afford it and take Great-Grandfather for a ride!”
At this point, he sounded quite proud of himself. “Ah Wei offered to buy it for me before, but I refused. I knew I could save up and get it on my own. And sure enough, I’m about to make it happen!”
Su Weisheng poured the cold brew fruit tea into a glass and took a sip. The bitterness filled his mouth, making him frown slightly. He studied the little drama king’s beaming face for a moment, then shook his head and asked, “If the money you just got is about to disappear again, and you won’t be able to buy your car, would you be upset?”
“Huh?” Song Qing’s face was full of horror. “Is my dad coming after my money again?”
“No, it’s something else.”
Song Qing let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s fine then… As long as it’s not my dad, even if the money’s gone—even if I have to donate it—I wouldn’t be too upset!”
Su Weisheng glanced at him thoughtfully, then shifted his gaze to the distance, where Xie Wei was staring at them with an obviously displeased expression. He nodded slightly but said nothing more.
Little drama queen Song casually took the teapot from Su Weisheng’s hand and poured himself a cup, sipping the fruit tea with delight. The sweet taste made him squint happily, looking like a carefree little fool.
Su Weisheng didn’t drink any more. He set down his teacup, popped a few chocolate beans into his mouth, and strolled lazily toward the garden. He hadn’t gone far when he heard Xie Wei scolding his wife:
“How many times have I told you to stay away from that grandfather-grandson duo? And stop believing in that ridiculous ‘father-dooming mole’ nonsense—”
Before he could finish, Song Qing suddenly coughed weakly and pitifully. Best Actor Xie was so choked up with frustration that his face turned black.
—
By evening, it was time for another live stream, and the gossip-loving netizens were even more punctual than the celebrities themselves.
Title: Today’s Tea Is Simply Unmissable 7.0
Main Post: «Another Side of Family Life» Villa Group’s Daily Drama Dump—Who’s Jealous of Who This Time?
1L: Checking in, manifesting the Wealth Mole.
5L: Manifesting the Husband-Cursing Mole—I just want to be an ordinary, filthy-rich young widow.
11L: Face-con checking in. I wish I were a chocolate bean cradled in Little Great-Grandfather’s palm!
55L: Yikes, Xie Wei always looks annoyed, but today he seemed extra pissed. Who got on his nerves again?
59L: Who else? It’s obviously because his little darling husband is glued to Little Great-Grandfather all day… Little drama queen Song has been acting so clingy with him lately. Suspicious.
65L: What’s so mysterious about it? If Little Great-Grandfather gave me a Wealth Mole, I guarantee I’d be even more obvious than Song Qing!
111L: Ah… they’re arguing again. The Best Actor and the Top Star bicker like elementary school kids.
133L: First time watching the show—just curious: is being brutally honest the new trend in your industry? Uh, I mean… everyone’s roasting each other so openly with zero concern for saving face. Aren’t they afraid of offending people?
151L: Replying to the comment above—please don’t misunderstand our industry. If this is your first time watching, I suggest checking out the other group instead. Investor Lu and scriptwriter Sunny are at peak professionalism—polite, diplomatic, and always leaving room for the other party. That’s what normal people in this industry are like.
153L: Then why are these two groups acting so… umm? Are they not afraid of getting mass-clowned or having their reputations crash? Or is it just that they have so many fans controlling the narrative? Sorry, I don’t mean to offend—I just don’t get it.
160L: LOL, how did an actual casual viewer end up in this daily drama thread? Sis, you’re adorable. The reason why the Top Star and the Best Actor dare to go at each other like this isn’t because they have a ton of fans or don’t fear backlash. It’s because their reputations have already crashed into ruins. There’s literally nothing left to destroy.
179L: Let me educate the newbies real quick—don’t be fooled by how obedient and well-behaved the Top Star acts under Little Great-Grandfather. Normally, when he’s alone, he’s the kind of guy who’ll publicly call out industry seniors in front of reporters and throw hands. Not to mention the mountain of scandals he’s been in—completely unredeemable. Do you think he cares? Nope. He just keeps living his best chaotic life.
As for Best Actor Xie? Oh, he’s even worse. The industry unanimously agrees he’s the King of Humblebragging. His daily routine includes flexing about his dad, his mom, and his husband. His emotional intelligence is second only to the Top Star’s lack of it. But what can you do? The man’s acting skills are god-tier. He’s not just the go-to lead actor for every major director and a guaranteed box office hit—he’s also a professor at the most prestigious drama academy. That’s why he can strut around the industry like he owns the place. [insert smug meme]
211L: Damn, today’s episode is juicy. The production team’s intent to stir shit is so obvious!
In the tea party room, the atmosphere was delicate.
The host announced, “To foster better understanding among neighbors, today’s activity is for each group of guests to name a representative work of the other group. The program team will display the chosen works on the public screen for discussion…”
Naming the other side’s representative work—this activity had already been conducted in the neighboring group. At that time, both groups had politely chosen an excellent work from the other side. But here? That was clearly impossible.
Su Ran didn’t even lift his eyelids before speaking bluntly, “Teacher Xie’s representative work? Isn’t it the movie 33 Days of Death Sacrifice, which he co-directed with Jiang Yimian?”
Xie Wei’s face instantly darkened.
He had countless outstanding works, but this particular movie had been an utter failure. And that brat just had to bring it up to rub salt in the wound!
Thinking of this, Xie Wei didn’t hold back either, retorting sharply, “Not as famous as Su Ran’s masterpiece! The domestically awarded “Legend of the High Priest” was all the rage when it aired. I heard it was even based on the Su family’s ancestor—a historical drama that netizens described as ‘shaking heaven and earth, moving ghosts to tears’. Host, why not play a clip for everyone to enjoy?”
These two childish brats were dragging everyone into their quarrel.
Meanwhile, Su Weisheng calmly munched on chocolate beans. But the moment he heard the words “historical drama” and “Legend of the High Priest”, he frowned. He had never watched it before—after all, it had won the Golden Broom Award. The acting was probably atrocious, an eyesore he had no desire to subject himself to.
The netherworld audience was watching with great amusement.
[“Legend of the High Priest”? A drama based on our streamer? How’s the production? Has anyone watched it?]
[That show… Honestly, if the High Priest saw the plot and could still sit next to Su Ran, I’d say he’s got an unbelievably good temper.]
[With a filial descendant like this, no wonder the High Priest could crawl out of his coffin even at two hundred years old…]
Su Weisheng felt like something was off.
He turned to Song Qing and asked, “What’s the plot of Legend of the High Priest? Have you watched it?”
Song Qing looked at him in shock. “You’ve never seen it? Not even a little? No wonder…”
“No wonder what?”
Xie Wei chimed in maliciously, “Back when Su Ran wanted to bring his ancestor onto the show, everyone thought it was weird. What kind of elder would still acknowledge this grandson after watching Legend of the High Priest? So you really haven’t seen it, huh…”
“Shut up! You ignorant fools don’t understand true art—” The top idol was about to argue, but in the next second, he saw the host—who couldn’t resist his itchy hands—already pressing play on Legend of the High Priest.
His expression changed drastically.
Right—his so-called art was one thing, but the actual High Priest was sitting right there. Survival was more important! Without hesitation, he lunged forward, snatching the remote in an attempt to forcefully end the livestream.
Too late.
The big screen had already lit up with the male lead’s heart-wrenching roar: “You killed Le’er! I will overthrow this country and make you all be buried with my Le’er—!”
Su Weisheng, who was always calm and unshaken, was so startled that his hand trembled, causing his chocolate jar to fall to the ground.
He shook his head in disbelief, staring at the character on screen—who had Su Ran’s exact face—clutching a beautiful girl who was coughing up blood. Then, with bloodshot eyes, he screamed at a group of soldiers, vowing to □□…
He turned to Song Qing in utter confusion. “Who is that?”
Song Qing: “…The High Priest.”
Su Weisheng: “…?”
The screen continued playing this absurdly dramatic saga of the “High Priest” recklessly charging across the world for love. Both the plot and acting were an assault on everyone’s senses. Meanwhile, Song Qing quietly leaned over to give Su Weisheng a brief rundown of the story: “So, apparently, it goes like this—When Su Tiao was young, he ran away from home and met a girl named Le’er. They fell deeply in love. Later, Le’er was killed by rebel forces, and Su Tiao was devastated. He returned to the Su clan, seized power, became the High Priest, and led his entire clan to rise from obscurity, conquering the world to overthrow the previous dynasty and avenge his beloved. After establishing the Rui Dynasty and ushering in an era of peace and prosperity, the High Priest finally had no more regrets… and committed suicide for love.”
Su Weisheng: ?
The ghostly spectators from the underworld: ?
Meanwhile, in the afterlife, the initial shock had worn off—giving way to an uproar of uncontrollable laughter.
[HAHAHAHA HELP, I never expected the High Priest to be like this!]
[Su Tiao, if I had known you were conquering the world for love, I wouldn’t have cursed you behind your back for being ruthless. I never expected you to have such a heartbreaking story!]
[This is hilarious. Do they even realize that the Grand Priest himself is sitting right here watching the play?]
Su Weisheng took a deep breath.
As a legendary figure in history, he had long anticipated that future generations would judge him. He had always been confident in saying he didn’t care how others evaluated him. But damn it, what was this nonsense about him being a love-struck fool…?
He turned to Su Ran, his tone soft and utterly sincere as he asked, “Do you think your family’s ancestor seems like a love-obsessed fool? And also, where did this ‘Le’er’ come from?”
Su Ran broke out in goosebumps and desperately wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into. Bracing himself, he explained with great difficulty, “I swear I didn’t make this up. Our family’s genealogy doesn’t record the existence of the Grand Priest’s wife, but my great-grandfather, Su Laijin, mentioned in his autobiography that the Grand Priest once had a companion named ‘Le’. No further details were provided, so I added this part to the script…” His voice grew weaker as he spoke.
[This is absolute nonsense! As a general who followed the High Priest for years, fighting battles across the land, I can say with certainty—there was never a girl named Le’er by his side! That kid totally made it up. Don’t believe a word of it!]
[As the High Priest’s steward, I can confirm—there wasn’t just no girl named Le’er, there wasn’t even a boy named Lele!]
[Correction to the person above—there actually was someone whose name contained ‘Le’. For example, that person…]
[Hm?]
[Wait a minute…]
[Holy shit… Did I just uncover the truth?]
[Oh my god, I finally understand why the High Priest used a werewolf hunt to track someone down…]
[So Su Laijin was right after all?!]
The Underworld. The Netherworld. The ancestral home of the Su family.
A bolt of heavenly lightning struck down.
The miserable screams of several generations of the Su family rang out in succession, with Su Laijin’s being the loudest—because no matter which way he ran, the lightning followed him.
Su Yinian felt like he was playing Minesweeper, dodging for his life, afraid he’d be turned into charcoal at any moment. While scrambling away, he shouted in despair, “Dad! My dear father! What the hell did you do to make Grandpa strike you down like this?!”
Su Laijin had no time to answer his son. In sheer terror, he dove under a table, only to see an enormous bolt of lightning—thicker than a barrel—come crashing straight toward his head.
It was like a showdown between father and son, a battle of epic proportions, each strike louder and more painful than the last.
“Awoooo—!!”
Su Laijin wept bitterly in regret, his voice trembling: “Father, spare me! Please spare me, Father! Your son was wrong… I swear I didn’t write it that way on purpose back then… I was forced… Ahhh! Don’t strike me! Don’t strike me!”
The Mortal Realm, Tea Party Room.
After finishing his righteous punishment of his unfilial son, Su Weisheng walked out of the restroom feeling refreshed.
As soon as he returned to the tea party room, he saw that Su Ran and Xie Wei were at it again, spraying verbal fire at each other. These two childish brats never held back when it came to mutual destruction. In the past, they used to exchange subtle jabs, but now they were outright exposing each other in public.
Xie Wei sneered, “Why shouldn’t I say it? Do you even have acting skills? That crying scene just now, where you hugged the female lead? Even my toenail could act better than that!” He then turned to the host and said, “Play that video of my toe twitching—it was selected as a textbook example in the drama academy.”
Damn, that was brutal.
And as if that wasn’t enough, he smugly added, “Actually, I shouldn’t even be arguing with a kid. After all, I wasn’t born with great acting skills either. I owe it all to my wonderful family. My parents were loving and always encouraged me, supporting my acting career wholeheartedly, which gave me plenty of time to hone my craft.”
“After I got together with Xiao Qing, he became my perfect partner, always supporting my work without causing any trouble. So, Su Ran, if you want to refine your acting skills early on…”
Top celebrities weren’t ones to be trifled with either.
Su Ran let out a cold laugh and delivered a line that was bound to shake things up: “That’s not right, Teacher Xie. If I remember correctly, didn’t you pay to rent that so-called virtuous little husband of yours?”
Netizens: ??? WTF?!!! So much drama today, and all of it is huge!
