Museum, backyard.
Jiang Qiao and Su Ning were sitting beside a dried-up well that connected the world of the living and the dead, discussing the feasibility of bringing yin spirits to the mortal realm to work part-time.
After a person dies, they turn into a yin spirit. These spirits cannot be perceived by the human eye, and only a small number of vengeful ghosts with intense resentment are capable of causing actual harm to humans. Based on this premise, the high priest had arranged for the first batch of beta-tested yin spirits to work as extras in a film crew he invested in, using special talismans to allow them to be captured on camera just like ordinary humans.
However, even though yin spirits couldn’t easily harm humans, one still had to be on guard against them stirring up trouble or refusing to follow rules once they arrived in the living world. To prevent this, these spirits were first required to attend school in the underworld to receive proper training. Only after graduation could they be ferried to the human world and assigned jobs.
After listening to Su Ning’s explanation, Jiang Qiao pondered for a moment before asking a question: “How’s that training school of yours in the underworld doing?”
“Hard to say.” Su Ning shifted his sitting posture slightly and placed an unlit cigarette between his lips, lightly chewing on it. He mumbled vaguely, “I’m not the one in charge of the school. As far as I know, the vice principal is decent, but the principal isn’t exactly reliable.”
Jiang Qiao found it odd. “You’ve got some history with the principal?”
“He’s my brother.” Su Ning paused, and upon seeing the amused expression on Jiang Qiao’s face that said, “Ah, a classic brotherly feud,” he added, “Su Ran is his biological great-grandson.”
“……”
Jiang Qiao’s expression immediately turned serious. The line between Zhaocai’s intelligence and idiocy was razor-thin. Being able to produce a great-grandson like that spoke volumes about the principal’s questionable genes.
He said solemnly, “Just to be safe, once the yin spirits are ferried over to the human world, we should arrange another round of training ourselves, just to reinforce things.”
Su Ning nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, too.”
The two exchanged a glance and reached a tacit agreement to cooperate.
Moments later, Su Ning took out a talisman and pressed it onto the dried-up well, saying, “Alright, let’s start by ferrying out a few yin spirits to test the process…”
Museum, side hall.
The two stood calmly at the entrance, silently locking eyes with Jiang Yimian, who stood in front of a display case, his expression subtly stunned.
“What’s up with him now?” Su Weisheng asked You Sui in a low voice.
The latter lifted his chin and motioned toward the glass case, lazily smiling as he said, “It’s a group photo from two hundred years ago. Guess it blew his mind.”
Su Weisheng was briefly startled, then suddenly remembered, “The photo taken when the Westerners visited the capital? I recall it was stored in the palace back then. Two centuries have passed, how’s the photo still around?”
“It was preserved using a special method, so of course it’s still intact. After I abdicated, the You family not only took my remains but also collected all my personal belongings. That photo was among them. It’s been kept safe all this time.”
You Sui grinned, eyes crinkling, “Very few in the outside world know about this photo, and even those who do wouldn’t dare spread it around and risk offending me. This kid really got lucky, managing to stumble upon one of my private treasures.”
Yeah—and after seeing it, he got so freaked out he started questioning reality.
It was hard not to suspect that You Sui had done it on purpose.
Jiang Yimian suddenly let out a loud yelp, interrupting their conversation. It was as if he’d just discovered a new continent—his earlier hesitance vanished, replaced by a gleeful sort of pride. Pointing at Su Weisheng and Director You, he excitedly revealed, “I get it now! I finally get it! Great-grandfather, this photo is a picture of you two together!”
Su Weisheng raised an eyebrow slightly. The correct answer had been right in front of him the whole time—and only now he figured it out? So what exactly was he proud of?
The next second, they heard Jiang Yimian spouting outrageous claims: “There was never any photo of the High Priest and the former dynasty’s monarch. You two staged a photo on purpose, artificially aged it, and put it in the display case to fake it as a two-hundred-year-old photo. And all of this was just to prove that your version of history is the correct one, and that what I wrote was wrong!”
You Sui was so shaken by this bizarre logic that his first reaction was to casually pull out his phone and start recording without making a fuss. At the same time, he leaned toward Su Weisheng’s ear and whispered, “Has he been possessed by the spirit of that raving idiot grandson?”
Watching Jiang Yimian, who was dancing with delight as if he’d won some grand victory, Su Weisheng also fell into silence. He honestly couldn’t tell if Jiang Yimian had really convinced himself of this narrative or if he was just lying to fool himself.
After all, when someone behaves with such astonishing idiocy, it becomes genuinely hard to tell whether they’re doing it on purpose or by accident.
Jiang Yimian burst into wild laughter: “Great-grandfather, you’ve really gone to great lengths just to win that bet against me—but it’s useless! I’ve seen through your whole conspiracy!”
You Sui enthusiastically praised, “Impressive, impressive. I never imagined you’d find a way to break the case from this angle.”
“Oh, you flatter me. It was just a sudden flash of inspiration,” Jiang Yimian replied humbly.
You Sui showed no intention of explaining anything, and instead continued playing along with a cheerful smile. He pointed to all the display cases in the side hall and earnestly asked, “Why don’t you take a look? See if there are any other fake antiques in here?”
“Let me see… If you’ve planted multiple layers of traps, then I definitely need to examine everything carefully.” Jiang Yimian rolled up his sleeves and genuinely started inspecting each display one by one.
Su Weisheng silently watched this clownery unfold—You Sui treating the lunatic like a performing monkey. Suddenly, he sensed something and turned his head toward the direction of the backyard.
You Sui immediately picked up on the change in his expression. “What is it? Should we go check?”
“Yeah.” Su Weisheng nodded, and the two of them headed toward the backyard.
Jiang Yimian was still happily absorbed in verifying the authenticity of the old artifacts. When he looked up and realized no one was there anymore, he quickly grabbed his phone and hurried after them. As soon as he stepped out of the side hall, he noticed how ominously dark the sky had become. The entire courtyard seemed to be shrouded in a dull gray mist, pressing down so heavily that it was hard to breathe.
“Is it gonna rain all of a sudden?” he muttered under his breath. But he didn’t think much of it and followed the path, soon arriving at the backyard. From afar, he could see Jiang Qiao and Su Ning measuring something along the four corners of the courtyard, while Su Weisheng and You Sui stood nearby, observing.
Jiang Yimian walked over and stood next to Jiang Qiao, asking curiously, “What’s going on here? Renovating the backyard?”
Jiang Qiao shot a glance at the clueless Jiang Yimian. “Go stand over there. Stay far away from me.”
“Uncle, you’re rejecting your own blood nephew again!” Jiang Yimian cried in anguish. “You keep calling me stupid, but you have no idea how brilliant your nephew really is. Just now, I saw right through Great-grandfather’s setup at a glance! Could you have done that?”
Jiang Qiao was performing a ritual by the dried-up well. Hearing his endless rambling, he took a deep breath and growled through gritted teeth, “I told you to get lost for your own safety.”
“Don’t try to cover it up. You’re just looking down on me,” Jiang Yimian retorted, completely impervious to reason.
A gust of cold yin wind swept through, sending a chill down to his bones. He shook his sleeves and stomped his feet to warm up, about to call everyone back inside to avoid the rain, when he suddenly felt a sharp, icy coldness around his ankle. A bit slow to react, he instinctively looked down and saw a bony, bluish-green hand grabbing his ankle and starting to climb upward…
He followed the hand’s path into the dried-up well—and locked eyes with a pair of ghastly, sinister eyes.
“Holy sh*t—!” Jiang Yimian let out a blood-curdling scream and reflexively kicked the hand away. Then, flailing and stumbling, he scrambled to the side while shouting, “Ghost! Ghost, ghost, ghost—Uncle! Great-grandfather! There’s a ghost!!”
Who would’ve thought the ghost would also cry out in pain when kicked, then immediately burst into curses: “What the hell! What the actual hell! Are you crazy?! What’s wrong with you?! You’re the ones who called me up here. Why the hell would you kick me back down the moment I show up?!”
Jiang Yimian turned around in shock, only to see a bony old man, all skin and bones, nimbly climbing up from the well. He only had a torso—his body ended at the waist, and below that was just empty air—but he could still scuttle across the ground at high speed like some kind of abnormal creature, using his hands to claw his way forward.
One moment he was still by the well; the next, he had already crawled up right in front of Jiang Yimian, grabbed him by the collar, and asked in a chilling tone, “You little punk, you’re the one who kicked me just now, aren’t you?!”
Jiang Yimian was so terrified that his vision went black. Driven by survival instinct, he shoved the “ghost” away and scrambled around on the ground, shouting for help in a panic.
In the end, it was Su Weisheng who couldn’t stand the noise anymore. He casually lifted the bisected old ghost with one hand and tossed him aside with a calm, indifferent voice: “Shut up. Stop making a fuss.”
Jiang Yimian immediately went silent, so abruptly that he even hiccupped.
The old ghost who had just tried to land a heavy punch on Jiang Yimian was sent tumbling three full rolls before finally stopping. Dazed and dizzy from the fall, he was just about to lose his temper—until he saw who had thrown him. In an instant, his bravado evaporated. Bowing and scraping, he stammered: “G-Greetings, High Priest… You summoned me up here, do you have any instructions?”
Jiang Yimian had just gotten up from the ground, and upon hearing the words “High Priest,” his entire body froze in place.
His neck moved stiffly as he looked around—from Jiang Qiao, to Su Ning, to You Sui, and then finally to Su Weisheng. Clearly, among the four others present, only one of them could possibly be worthy of that title…
His gaze locked onto Su Weisheng. Mimicking the ghost, Jiang Yimian stuttered out: “High Priest…?”
Su Weisheng raised an eyebrow at him and gave a faint “Mm,” which counted as acknowledgment.
Jiang Yimian’s knees gave out, and he had to steady himself against a wall. Then, as if recalling something, he slowly turned to look at the man standing beside the High Priest. Dazed, he asked, “If the photo was real… then you’re… you’re the former dynasty’s monarch, Yuan Le?”
The man gave him a smile that was half a smirk and lazily added, “Now that’s a way to put it. What’s with the panic? We’re not strangers—you and I are quite fated, actually. I’m probably the original prototype for that ‘Le’er’ character in your script, aren’t I?”
“……” Jiang Yimian slowly knelt down.
#OnHowIWroteAMarySueScriptSpreadingRumorsAboutTheHighPriestAndTheFormerDynastyMonarchAndEvenClaimedItMatchedHistoricalFactsOnlyToHaveTheTwoRealPeopleWatchMeGoInsaneInRealTime#
Just then, as if the blow hadn’t been brutal enough, a certain lezi finally found a new toy. He pulled out his phone and hit play on a video—immediately, an arrogant voice blared from the speaker, accompanied by wild, triumphant laughter:
【Great-grandfather, you really went through a lot just to win that bet with me, but it’s useless! I’ve already seen through your scheme!】
【If you guys set up multiple traps, then of course I have to carefully analyze and identify them.】
That all-too-familiar voice made Jiang Qiao cover his face in despair. He couldn’t bear to look and completely refused to acknowledge that this disgraceful creature was related to him by blood.
“Your Scheme”
“Faked Relics”
Jiang Yimian’s outrageous declarations during his meltdown were played over and over again, each time pushing him further into the pit of social death.
With a vacant expression frozen on his face, he was silent for a few moments, and then finally broke down. Grabbing his head in both hands, he wailed in surrender: “I was wrong, I was wrong! I swear I’ll never recklessly write historical scripts again! Please stop playing it! Please!”
If they kept replaying it any longer, he was going to cringe so hard he’d dig out an entire mountain villa to bury himself in.
