The hottest topic on a certain Q&A community is: “Nominate the biggest scandal of New Calendar Year 150—what’s your No.1?”
Since the replies under this topic are a goldmine of gossip, packed with countless juicy scandals, it has become a beloved source of entertainment for numerous netizens during their busy work breaks. Because of this, users jokingly refer to the post as “The Holy Scripture of Gossip Farmers.”
Some of the most popular replies include:
#Shocking! The notoriously sharp-tongued top star’s great-grandfather was actually a drop-dead gorgeous heartthrob!#
#A deep dive into the years of love and rivalry between Su Ran and Lu Huanjin.#
#Let’s talk about the ultimate goddess in the girls’ love scene—Su Anyao.#
#Details you didn’t know about the time Great-Grandfather summoned a ghost live on stream…#
#Have you heard about the domineering CEO’s sister keeping a 13-member idol group as her personal harem?#
#Top star and best actor’s explosive fight caught on camera—the real culprit behind it all is shocking!#
…
And today, a new hot reply has emerged: BREAKING NEWS! A top star just went off in a live stream, publicly calling out the best actor—claiming that Xie Wei’s “precious little husband” was actually just a paid boyfriend!!!
【I know he’s sharp-tongued, has low emotional intelligence, a bad temper, and loves being socially clueless, but when he outright said ‘rented’ at that moment, I was still dumbfounded.】
【OMG, this mutual destruction arc is giving so much drama. The tea is sweet, and I love it!!】
【Rented???】
【Holy shit, I just have one question—where did he rent them, and how much did it cost?】
【Ahhhhh, I’m losing my mind! I’ve been shipping this overbearing CEO and delicate wife CP with true passion for a whole year, and now you’re telling me the ‘wife’ was rented? Rented? Huh???】
【LOL, I could already see someone’s house collapsing from miles away, but when I walked closer—damn! Turns out it’s my own house that’s crumbling!】
【Calm down! Calm down! Look at Little Ancestor’s expression—so calm! What does that mean? It means this might not be true! Su Ran could just be saying nonsense in a fit of rage!】
Tea Party Room, Livestream
The moment Su Ran said the words “rented”, the entire room fell into dead silence. Both staff and celebrities were completely stunned, unable to believe such a jaw-dropping revelation. For a moment, no one even knew how to react.
Only Su Weisheng remained utterly composed, not at all looking like someone who had just heard an explosive scandal. He simply gave Song Qing a deep look, then subtly glanced at his phone, his unspoken question written all over his face.
—The search history hasn’t been cleared yet? Got caught again?
Song Qing never expected a childish argument to drag in innocent bystanders. His first reaction was to check his phone. Then, remembering that he had long since enabled incognito browsing, he frantically shook his head at Su Weisheng, signaling that it definitely wasn’t him who leaked anything!
That’s strange.
Su Weisheng asked Su Ran, “How did you know?”
Su Ran responded matter-of-factly, “It was pretty obvious. Once, I was interviewed alongside Teacher Xie. During the interview, he bragged about his family, so I clapped back by calling him an aging bachelor. Less than a month later, he suddenly went public with a ‘civilian’ boyfriend. It was clear he wasn’t the real sister-in-law.” As he spoke, he glanced at Su Weisheng in confusion—why was he so calm? Did he already know?
“Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Su Ran said. “Great-Grandfather, haven’t you added Song Qing as a friend? I keep getting recommended his alternate account on Douyin. You know, the ‘People You May Know’ feature? His ID is ‘Greedy Capitalist Docked My Pay Again,’ and there’s even a post saying, ‘Xie something docked my brother’s salary again. If I make money from stocks, I’m firing him.’”
Everyone silently turned to look at the little drama queen, their gazes filled with indescribable complexity.
Song Qing stared blankly at the ceiling, questioning his life choices: “…”
Can big data backstab people like this? Pushing my main account to my friends was bad enough, but you even pushed my newly registered alt, made with a fresh SIM card, to my friends’ friends? Are you insane?
“Nonsense! Utter nonsense!” At the critical moment, Xie Wei angrily rebuked in a righteous tone, “You’re just mad because I critiqued your acting skills, so now you’re making up baseless accusations to drag me down with you!”
Slander! He’s slandering me.jpg
At this point, he realized his reaction was too extreme. Quickly adjusting his demeanor, he shifted his emotions and drew upon decades of experience in the entertainment industry. With a smile, he spoke in a tolerant and friendly manner to Su Ran, “Su Ran, you’re young and impulsive, speaking without thinking is understandable. I won’t hold it against you, but don’t say things like that so casually in the future.”
“After all, Qing Qing and I are about to register our marriage soon. When the time comes, we’ll be sending you an invitation. Claims about renting a partner and getting docked pay are pure nonsense—you must’ve misunderstood something.”
As he spoke, he affectionately pulled Song Qing close and said gently, “Qing Qing wouldn’t mind either, right?”
“Mhm! Su Ran, you must have gotten it wrong. The friend suggested to you by big data definitely wasn’t my alt account!” Song Qing, eyes brimming with tears, nodded frantically, trying to patch things up. After all, if he didn’t smooth this over properly, he’d get his pay docked again.
Su Ran crossed his arms, lifted his chin slightly, and watched Xie Wei stubbornly deny everything with an indifferent expression. After waiting for him to finish his performance, he let out a cold snort and pressed further, “Maybe accounts can be mixed up, but how do you explain the fact that you declared yourself single only to announce a partner less than a month later?”
Xie Wei didn’t even blink. “When fate arrives, nothing can stop it. One month is just the right time to enter the honeymoon phase.”
Su Ran sneered. “So you just happened to find your ideal type in exactly one month?”
Su Weisheng asked curiously, “What counts as an ideal type?”
“Cancer sign, blood type O, seven years younger, studies art, frail and sickly, has a good personality, loves acting cute, and is dependent on their partner. Every single condition must be met—no exceptions—for someone to be Teacher Xie’s ideal type,” Su Ran said, raising an eyebrow meaningfully. “And somehow, he managed to find that exact person within a month.”
Su Weisheng silently clapped his hands. That was pretty impressive.
Just then, he noticed a special notification from the underworld app. Clicking in, he was instantly bombarded by a dense barrage of bullet comments.
[That doesn’t sound like fate. That sounds like a custom order.]
[Do you living folks really play like this? I’m jealous.]
[Eh? That actor named Xie Wei looks kind of familiar…]
[Wait a second! I think he’s the son of a beautiful lady I used to know! @Yan Wan]
[Yan Wan: !!! I never thought I’d be getting gossip about my own son even after dying…]
Good grief. Even the gossip target’s own mother was watching this live. This streaming app was truly from the underworld.
Yet, Best Actor Xie remained blissfully unaware. Facing Su Ran’s sarcastic jabs, he remained composed and replied calmly, “That’s exactly why I say it’s fate. Perhaps my parents’ spirits are watching over me from above, blessing me so I could smoothly meet my soulmate.”
[Yan Wan: ??? I did no such thing!]
The mother-son duo’s indirect conversation was oddly hilarious. Su Weisheng, his expression strange, played along without missing a beat. “It seems Teacher Xie’s parents are very invested in your love life.”
“Naturally.”
At this point, Xie Wei even looked a little smug. With deep emotion, he continued, “To be honest, my mother was a deeply romantic artist. She was physically frail, delicate, and often overwhelmed with emotion. She would frequently worry about burdening my father, falling into deep melancholy over it. But my father would always comfort her tirelessly, helping her walk out of her shadows and indulging her every whimsical idea. I grew up in such a warm and artistic household.”
Xie Wei’s mastery of dialogue was undeniable. Though he had shared this heartwarming story about his family countless times on camera, his sincere tone and vivid storytelling still managed to move many people, successfully salvaging the situation.
However, Su Weisheng found it impossible to be moved because, at critical moments, the underworld bullet comments kept ruining the moment:
[Sounds really touching, but… is this delicate, emotional, and dependent little wife really the Yan Wan I know? Aside from both being beautiful artists, the rest doesn’t seem to match at all.]
Xie Wei continued, “Even though my parents passed away young, I believe that in the afterlife, they remain a perfect, devoted couple. That’s why my ideal partner is also a frail but artistically gifted little wife—I want to cherish them like a child, holding them in my hands, letting them live a carefree and happy life.”
Underworld bullet comments:
[Uh… about that ‘one and only’ thing… might be tough. Just yesterday, I saw your so-called delicate little wife of a mother pinning a fresh-faced newcomer against the wall for a kiss…]
Xie Wei held his partner’s hand, his gaze tender and full of emotion. “My parents were always open-minded and respected my choices, which is why I say it must be their spirits watching over me, guiding me to Qing Qing.”
Not only did he manage to explain himself, but he also took the opportunity to subtly flex his parents’ love and his own relationship. As expected from the entertainment industry’s most famous Versailles actor.
Unfortunately, the ghost being flaunted had a very different opinion.
[Yan Wan: Son, I’m begging you, please stop. I’m dying of embarrassment down here. My toes are curling so hard they could carve out a whole apartment.]
[Yan Wan: (crying) Everyone, please don’t listen to my son’s nonsense! How could I possibly be some submissive little wife with no sense of self? Help! High Priest, I’m begging you, poison my son mute already! Stop him from ruining my reputation any further!!! (kowtowing furiously)]
Su Ran remained expressionless, entirely unmoved. Instead, he turned to Su Weisheng and asked, “Great-Grandfather, what do you think?”
For once, Su Weisheng hesitated. “…I’d really like to be moved.” It was just a little difficult.
The sharp-eyed host immediately zoomed the camera in on Su Weisheng’s subtle expression. “Little Ancestor seems to have a different opinion?”
Facing the show’s blatant attempt to stir up drama, Su Weisheng remained calm. “Not at all. I just feel a little bad for Teacher Xie’s mother.”
Huh? Feeling bad? What did that mean?
The audience was left baffled, momentarily unable to process his words.
But one thing was certain—it wasn’t a compliment.
Xie Wei’s face darkened. These two were here just to ruin his day. What terrible luck! Dealing with Su Ran was one thing, but every time he encountered this so-called Great-Grandfather, even if the old man did nothing, his own steady composure would still crack!
With a forced smile, Xie Wei quipped sarcastically, “Oh? Did my mother visit you in a dream or something?”
Su Weisheng gave him a strange look, his tone meaningful. “No. But if you’d like, I can arrange for your mother to visit you in a dream.” After all, she was already overflowing with resentment from sheer embarrassment. If this went on any longer, he’d successfully anger her into becoming a vengeful spirit.
Xie Wei’s face was now as black as the bottom of a pot. Without hesitation, he snapped, “No need! I don’t believe in any of that superstitious nonsense—dream visits, bad luck birthmarks, or whatever else!”
Su Weisheng gave Xie Wei a once-over, then shook his head in regret. “What a pity.”
Xie Wei scoffed. “There’s nothing to pity.”
Unable to hold back, Song Qing tugged at his sleeve and whispered, “I already checked with my mole divination—I’m sure that stock is going to drop. If you don’t listen to Great-Grandfather, you’ll lose money. He’s only looking out for you; don’t be so stubborn.”
Still throwing shade at him at a time like this?!
Xie Wei was fuming. He shot his wife a glare.
The little drama queen immediately shrank back, retracting his hand and pretending nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, the bullet comments from the living were losing their minds laughing.
【Hahaha, I don’t know why, but ever since I accepted the ‘rented partner’ theory, every time Xie Wei glares, my first reaction is that he’s about to deduct wages…】
【I’m dying. It’s like watching two elementary school kids expose each other’s dirt while fighting, yet somehow, it doesn’t affect their families’ good relationships at all.】
【Can these top-tier grandfather-grandson influencers stop pushing this whole mystical schtick? It’s ridiculous. First, the ‘father-dooming mole’, now dream visitations? Feels like Xie Wei is the only sane person left in this livestream. Everyone around him has completely lost it—so cringe.】
【Hold up, don’t be so sure. Given how stubborn Xie Wei is, I feel like he’s about to get slapped in the face any second now…】
【Stop bickering, and just tell me which stock it is! What if I bought it too?!】
【Stock name, please!!!】
After the livestream ended, Su Ran walked out feeling refreshed.
Even though he hadn’t dropped an irrefutable bomb proving that Xie Wei and Song Qing were just a contract couple, the idea had already taken root in the public’s mind. No matter what Xie Wei did now, he’d never fully erase this perception!
If he couldn’t completely take him down, then at least he’d disgust him to death. That was Su Ran’s golden rule for elementary-school-style bickering.
However, just as he reached the second floor, a gut-wrenching cry of “Le’er!” rang out from the study, making him shudder.
Who the hell was playing “The High Priest’s Legend” at home again? Did they have a death wish? If Great-Grandfather heard this, he’d kill them on the spot!
Oh. It was the Great-Grandfather himself.
Su Ran instantly chickened out, forcing a stiff smile as he stood at the doorway. “Great-Grandfather, I didn’t know you were interested in dramas like this.” As he spoke, he cautiously took a few steps back, ready to flee at any moment.
Su Weisheng merely cast him a calm glance, not raising a hand against him. Instead, he gave an even-tempered critique: “Terrible acting. Work on your skills properly. Stop starring in trash films and embarrassing yourself.”
Su Ran, ever adaptable, instantly agreed. “Great-grandfather is absolutely right! I’ll definitely train hard and only take on projects after honing my craft!”
He answered crisply and obediently—whether he actually meant it was another matter.
Su Weisheng didn’t expose him. Sitting in front of the computer, he clicked on another video related to Su Ran. A female host’s introduction played: “Since ancient times, terrible films have produced divine soundtracks. “The High Priest’s Legend” is the perfect example—while the web drama won the Golden Broom Award for the worst production of the year, its theme song took home the Golden Melody Award. One has to admit that Su Ran has reached the pinnacle in both acting and singing, though one is a positive peak and the other… well, a negative one.”
The host continued, “A certain renowned director once publicly stated, ‘Back then, I wanted to offer eight figures to buy a composition from Su Ran. To my surprise, he offered to compose for free—his only request was to play the male lead. I was so terrified I fled overnight carrying a whole train on my back.’”
Su Weisheng pondered for a moment before commenting, “So he rewards himself with a terrible movie for every good song he writes?”
Su Ran’s face twisted. He decided to flee before he humiliated himself further. “Great grandfather, I’ll go back to my room and rest now.”
“Go ahead.” Su Weisheng pointed at a talisman on the side. “Your protective charm is about to expire. Take this and stick it above your bed.”
“Oh, got it!” The moment he heard it was related to his fate, Su Ran agreed in a flash. After returning to his room, he carefully coated the talisman with five layers of industrial glue before firmly sticking it above his bed, afraid it might fall off if it was not secure enough.
As soon as he left, Song Qing slipped in and comforted Su Weisheng thoughtfully. “Su Ran’s acting can improve with practice. He’ll definitely get better in the future. It’s all Ah Wei’s fault for bringing this up. Great-Grandfather, don’t get upset over it…”
Su Weisheng shook his head and replied calmly, “I’m not worried. His acting will improve very soon.”
Song Qing: ……?
Why does this sound a little creepy?
Su Weisheng had already changed the topic. “Have you talked to Xie Wei? He didn’t make things difficult for you?”
Song Qing’s cheeks immediately turned a little red. He scratched his head in embarrassment. “N-no, he didn’t make things difficult for me. I’m not even sure if we’re still in a contract relationship now. Anyway, that alt account was just for random complaints. Actually, he treats me pretty well and indulges me in everything. Though I know he just likes the feeling of raising a little drama queen.”
Late Night, Study Room.
Su Weisheng sat in the armchair by the window, reading a book. The screen of his phone lit up again and again.
Jiang Qiao: I found some information. It’s said that the remains were later buried in the imperial tomb as a cenotaph for a monarch of the previous dynasty. But no one knows exactly where that tomb is.
Jiang Qiao: The flesh and blood were taken away by another trusted aide at the time. What happened afterward, I couldn’t find out. I only know that the aide’s surname was You—very likely from the You family of Jinzhou.
Jiang Qiao: The You family is also a clan of occult practitioners, but they rarely interact with other families because they serve the imperial court. You get what I mean.
Jiang Qiao: Contact me anytime if anything comes up.
You Family, that was within expectations. The process of blood and flesh taking shape required an extremely long time, so at this point, his age shouldn’t be much different from Su Ran’s.
Su Weisheng rubbed his brow lightly, his expression hardly changing. Ever since he saw You Sui, he had a vague premonition. Now, it had simply come true.
A remnant soul, flesh and blood, and skeletal remains—these could be seen as akin to a sage severing their three corpses. Each of the three possessed intelligence and their souls should at least be interconnected. For now, it seemed that the remnant soul and the skeletal remains were indeed linked. As for how much You Sui knew or remembered, further observation was needed to confirm.
With this thought, he gently rubbed the string of beads on his wrist, his fingertips tracing over a crack in the amazonite stone. His voice was soft as he murmured, “To personally strip away your own flesh and blood… that must have been unbearably painful, right? You really didn’t hesitate to go that far.”
Another sigh escaped him, its emotions indistinct.
Just then, the faint sounds of a follower’s prayers drifted into his ears.
Jiang Qiao: Star Lord! I’m working on the task you assigned as fast as I can. I’ve already handed over the information I found to the Divine Messenger.
Jiang Qiao: The Divine Messenger is breathtakingly beautiful, making Hancheng feel utterly ashamed in comparison. No wonder the Star Lord favors him so much.
Jiang Qiao: I’m so jealous that the Divine Messenger can receive responses from the Star Lord so often. QAQ
Hancheng—that must be Jiang Qiao’s courtesy name.
Su Weisheng felt his head ache just listening to him.
This guy clearly acted all proper—cool and slightly aloof, like Elder Jiang—when messaging Su Weisheng. But the moment he started praying, he turned into a chatterbox of a resentful little wife? And with such a tea-filled tone, no less.
Seeing that Jiang Hancheng was about to keep rambling on, Su Weisheng casually grabbed the paper fan from the table and knocked it down through the timeline of the prayer.
Jiang Qiao instantly caught the faint presence of the Star Lord and tensed up in excitement, his heart trembling. But then, recalling how he had been muted last time, he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous.
I won’t be silenced again for talking too much… right?
Just then, a translucent hand materialized in the air—its fingers long and elegant, grasping one end of the fan handle. Unhurried and at ease, it tapped him lightly on the forehead.
It wasn’t heavy, more like the affectionate knock of an elder on a younger one’s head.
Jiang Qiao’s eyelids drooped, and an overwhelming drowsiness took hold of him.
Just before he lost consciousness, he heard a clear, languid voice whisper near his ear: “Get some good sleep, my little Divine Messenger.”
Jiang Qiao closed his eyes, his lips pressing together as an unconscious flush, like the lingering warmth of intoxication, spread across his pale cheeks. Then, he drifted into a long, sweet dream.
While Jiang Qiao had a beautiful dream, Su Ran was having a nightmare.
He had just fallen asleep when a deafening cacophony of battle cries erupted in his ears. Startled, he opened his eyes, only to find himself in the middle of a battlefield.
A ferocious army charged toward him, their gazes locked onto him with deadly intent. Meanwhile, he was sprawled on the ground in utter disarray, clutching a young woman in his arms—her face blurred and indistinct.
Before he could even process what was happening, his mouth moved on its own, shouting out—
“Le’er—”
The call sounded stiff.
Then, out of nowhere, a massive slap came crashing down, followed by an irate reprimand: “Your emotions are all wrong! Do it again!”
The impact sent stars dancing before Su Ran’s eyes. Struggling to lift his head, he saw three old men—his father, his grandfather, and his great-grandfather—standing around him in a tight circle. One of them had just smacked him!
“You guys—”
SMACK! Another slap.
Su Cheng declared righteously, “The ancestor said your acting is atrocious and embarrassing to the Su family, so we’ve been assigned to train your performance skills in your dreams.”
“Wasn’t it this very scene that made the ancestor lose face during the livestream yesterday? You’re going to keep practicing this scene today. You can go back when you get it right!”
Su Ran: ???
So his great-grandfather wasn’t just casually mentioning “practicing acting” last night—he had already planned out how to deal with him!
“Do I seriously have to practice my acting…?”
Smack—!
Before he could finish cursing, his own grandfather slapped him across the face.
Su Yinian remained expressionless. “What acting skills? You don’t have a damn bit of it.”
Su Ran opened his mouth.
Smack—!
Su Laijin delivered another slap.
Su Ran was so furious he nearly coughed up blood. “I didn’t even say anything yet!”
Su Laijin exploded, pointing at him and cursing, “It was you, you brat! You secretly read your great-grandfather’s autobiography! And reading it wasn’t enough—you even made it into a TV drama! Because of you, I got beaten half to death by my old man! Tell me, do you deserve to live?!”
Su Ran: “……” Ah. That was me.
Honestly, the Su family was a clan where the bloodline hierarchy reigned supreme.
In times of trouble, you called for your father to save you. When things were calm, you scammed money off him. When you screwed up, you got slapped by your father, and after getting slapped, you’d take it out on your own son.
The youngest of them all, Su Ran, was already on the verge of getting beaten to death. The worst part? He didn’t even have a son to pass it down to.
“…Stop hitting me… I’ll practice, okay…?” After enduring a brutal beating from his elders, Su Ran lay sprawled on the ground, admitting defeat with great difficulty.
No response.
He lifted his head and saw that the three old men who had just been beating him were now kneeling on the ground in an instant. Looking further into the distance, he spotted a stunning figure—long-haired, dressed in a shirt, exuding an immortal-like aura—leisurely strolling toward them.
Damn it, you three were acting so tough just now? But in front of Great-Grandfather, you’re nothing but obedient grandsons!
“Great-Grandfather, save me—!” The great-grandson swiftly clung to Su Weisheng’s leg, surrendering at lightning speed. “I swear I’ll seriously work on my acting skills from now on! I won’t dare slack off in front of you ever again! Please spare me this time! If I embarrass you again in the future, you can just beat me to death!”
Su Weisheng bent down, lifted the great-grandson’s chin, and immediately frowned.
The handsome face of his great-grandson had swollen up like a pig’s head.
“You hit him this hard?” he asked.
Seeing that he now had someone to back him up, the great-grandson wasted no time throwing his father and the other two under the bus, tearfully accusing them, “They were ruthless! They weren’t training my acting skills at all—they were just venting their frustration on me! Great grandfather, please take me away!”
The three men glared at him angrily.
Su Weisheng reached out, wiping away the redness and swelling on the great-grandson’s face, taking away his pain.
Su Ran gazed at his great-grandfather with wide, expectant eyes, his expression filled with gratitude as if witnessing the descent of a deity.
Su Weisheng said calmly, “You beat him up like this—how is he supposed to get into character? Don’t be so heavy-handed. Treat the kid with some care. Also, by tomorrow morning, I want to see an improvement in his acting skills.”
Great-grandson: ???
He stared at his great-grandfather in utter disbelief. Just now, he had thought this was a living Bodhisattva—it turns out he was the real King of Hell!
So he wasn’t worried about his pain at all—he was just afraid he wouldn’t be able to act properly!
And he had to stay here for the whole night? Would he even survive?!
Hearing this, the trio immediately pounded their chests in assurance. “Rest assured! We guarantee success! Just wait and see the results!”
“Hmm.” The great demon king patted his great-grandson’s head, nodding in satisfaction. Then he encouraged the three men, “Do a good job, and it’ll offset the mistakes you three made.”
“Yes, sir!!!”
The great demon king’s figure vanished.
The trio turned their wolf-like, predatory gazes toward Su Ran.
The great-grandson wanted to run but found no escape. His face filled with despair. “W-What exactly are you planning to do…?”
“Training your acting skills.”
Su Cheng turned to the elder beside him. “Dad, Grandpa, since Great-Grandfather said to be gentle, how are we supposed to train him?”
Su Yinian also turned to his own elder. “Dad, what do you think?”
Su Laijin propped his chin with one hand, pondering for a moment. “There’s still a way.”
With a wave of his hand, Su Ran was forcibly dragged back into the previous scene, once again made to act out the heart-wrenching moment of his lover dying before his eyes.
And once again, his performance was awkward and unconvincing, completely lacking emotional depth.
Su Laijin slowly stepped forward.
Su Ran eyed him warily. “Great grandfather, what are you planning to do?”
“My dear grandson, there’s something I need to tell you.” Following his own father’s instructions, Su Laijin spoke to Su Ran in a very polite manner. “Your acting just now was terrible, so to help you improve, I have to slap you.”
A heavy slap came crashing down.
“AAAH—!” The great-grandson let out a miserable scream.
The tone was polite, but the execution was anything but.
The other two suddenly realized, “So this is the kind of ‘gentleness’ Great-Grandfather meant! We get it now!”
Su Ran wore a mask of pure suffering: WTF!
Were these old geezers really his biological father, grandfather, and great-grandfather???
And so, for the rest of the night, Su Ran was trapped in an endless cycle of acting training. If his performance wasn’t up to standard, the three old ghosts would politely remind him that they were about to take action—then proceed to beat him up with absolute ruthlessness.
Since his debut at the top of the industry, Su Ran’s acting skills have always been rock-bottom. Six years in the business, and he had made zero progress—forever stuck at a failing grade.
Yet in just one night, his acting skyrocketed at an astonishing pace, fast enough to make jaws drop.
—
Early the next morning, Song Qing arrived at Su Weisheng’s room, carrying a fruit platter. He was about to knock when he noticed the door was already open.
Walking inside, he was met with the sight of Su Ran clutching a pillow in his arms, tears streaming down his face.
Deep, suppressed agony and despair filled every inch of his being. When he called out to his lover, his voice resonated straight into the soul.
In that instant, everyone present was drawn into his grief.
Holy sh—
Song Qing was dumbfounded. The whole team of show producers and cameramen watching the scene were equally stunned.
The little drama queen turned to Su Weisheng, his voice shaking, “G-Great-Grandfather… what the hell happened?”
Su Weisheng looked at Su Ran with satisfaction and praised, “In just one night, my great-grandson’s acting has improved to this level—truly not an easy feat. You’ve worked hard, my dear grandson, and so have your teachers.”
At the mention of his “teachers”, Su Ran’s sobs became even more stifled, even more raw and heartfelt.
