Chapter 27: Chi Qian, Scarier Than a Ghost
Chi Fengxiao had no idea his bootlicking career was already hanging by a thread.
In the woods, the wind rustled now and then, and the hoots of owls drifted through the night. After a long day, the guests had all fallen asleep.
The bonfire on the ground was almost burned out.
A shadow crept up stealthily to Chi Qian’s hammock, pulling out a small knife to cut through the vines—planning to send her crashing to the ground in her sleep.
Serves her right for being so stingy, refusing to share honey with him!
Halfway through cutting, Qin An suddenly felt a chill at the back of his neck.
He touched his neck absentmindedly, not taking it seriously.
The next second, something seemed to drop down from above.
Qin An looked up.
And there—dangling upside down from a tree branch—was a “female ghost,” slowly lowering toward him. Their eyes met.
The “ghost” spoke in a chilling voice: “Do you want to die?”
Qin An: “Ahhh—!!”
“Ghoooost—!!”
In the still-open livestream: “AAAAAAHHHH—”
The chubby boy collapsed in fright, scrambling away on hands and feet, face pale. His cries startled the others awake.
“Xiao An, what’s going on…” Qin Yue mumbled, glancing over.
Only to see a long-haired black shadow dangling upside down from a tree—horrifying against the backdrop of the dark night.
Qin Yue’s eyes rolled back, and he fainted straight away on the hammock.
The others who were now awake were also scared stiff, nearly going into cardiac arrest.
Then the “ghost” spoke again: “Ghost, my foot. You think you can ambush me with guts this small?”
Hearing Chi Qian’s voice, Chi Fengxiao finally exhaled, drenched in sweat, “Chi Qian, why are you hanging upside down from a tree in the middle of the night like some kind of spider? Or are you trying to scare me to death so you can swap in a new uncle?”
Chi Qian: “The hammock was too uncomfortable. I couldn’t sleep well, so I climbed up to enjoy the night view.”
She pointed at the fainted Qin An, “Then this little fatty came over with a knife to cut my hammock. I kindly reminded him, and he took me for a ghost. Tell me, do I look like a ghost?”
Chi Fengxiao: “…” You look like one in every possible way.
Do you even realize how much psychological trauma you gave me last time when you came running over upside down?!
Shen Jing chuckled helplessly: “Qin An is too mischievous. His brother doesn’t even keep him in check, pulling pranks like this in the middle of the night.”
Chi Qian: “Let him learn his lesson. Otherwise, he’ll think I’m easy to mess with.”
“…Sister Qian, could you maybe sit upright before you talk? You really do look a little scary like that.” Shen Jiashu shivered.
[Not a little scary, I legit thought I was about to ascend just now.]
[Both Qin An and his superstar brother fainted—neatly, one after the other.]
[Can’t decide who’s worse off, Sister Qian almost losing her hammock or Qin An fainting from fright.]
A strange sound rustled through the woods.
“Did you guys hear that?” Chi Fengxiao suddenly asked.
Shen Jing: “Yeah, I heard it too. Sounds like… crying?”
Ling Qian, already impatient: “None of us are crying.”
The air went still.
If it wasn’t them, then…
The faint sobbing grew clearer and clearer, and in the firelight, a white shadow flickered through the nearby bushes.
Those still awake all stiffened in shock.
Qin Yue, who had just woken, opened his eyes—and saw a white shadow float overhead.
The word “ghost” caught in his throat before he could shout it. His head lolled, and he fainted again.
Second time’s the charm.
That white shadow seemed to move deliberately toward Chi Qian’s hammock.
Chi Qian, half-asleep, was already drifting off.
The sobbing sound crept closer and closer.
Chi Fengxiao reached out, panicked. “Chi Qian—!”
The white shadow hovered above her, swaying ominously, letting out hair-raising cries.
Chi Qian didn’t even twitch an eyelid. She just muttered, “So noisy.”
As if provoked, the shadow’s movements grew wilder, circling around her again and again.
Everyone else was holding their breath.
Finally, Chi Qian grew impatient, opened her eyes, and locked gazes with the two hollow black pits that were the shadow’s eyes.
The white shadow swooped down, terrifying under the dim moonlight.
Chi Qian shot out a hand, grabbed the shadow, crumpled it up like a ball of paper, and slammed it onto the ground!
“Didn’t I say it was noisy? Don’t you understand human speech?”
“Wailing, my ass! Just because you’re a ghost doesn’t mean you can scare people whenever you want. Where are your manners?”
“Shut up already!”
After her fiery outburst, silence fell over the clearing.
Everyone: “…”
The white shadow, tossed like trash: “…”
Seriously, does no one care that a ghost just got bullied like this?
Who the hell treats a ghost like that? The poor thing started wailing instead!
The shadow trembled, floating up weakly, its aura radiating the grief of someone who had suffered unspeakable humiliation. Then, with a pitiful air, it drifted away.
Meanwhile, Chi Qian rolled back into her hammock and fell sound asleep, utterly unbothered.
Everyone suddenly felt… maybe the ghost was the one worth pitying here.
After all, it had run into someone even scarier than itself—Chi Qian.
Its doom.
[So that’s how Sister Qian is when she’s sleep-deprived?! Savage! I love it!]
[I swear this is the first time I’ve ever felt sorry for a ghost.]
[It can’t be a real ghost, right? Probably just the crew flying a drone with a white sheet to prank them.]
[There are no such things as ghosts. And even if there were, I’d just slap a picture of Sister Qian on my forehead—let’s see who dares mess with me then!]
[66666]
The production team was baffled, staring at one another.
“Did we deploy the prank drone?”
“No, wasn’t it still untested?”
“Then who sent out that ghost figure?”
“No idea. Maybe the drone flew out by itself?”
“….”
And just like that, an unsolved mystery was left hanging.
The next morning.
Well-rested Chi Qian was back to being her usual sweet self.
Qin Yue and Qin An looked at her as though they were staring at a criminal.
They had heard that last night, Chi Qian single-handedly made a ghost shut itself down.
Even if it was just a “ghost” staged by the production crew, she was way too unlike a normal girl.
Without Chi Fengxiao, that traffic-magnet, she was nothing.
“Qian Qian, give me another peach, I haven’t had enough.” Chi Fengxiao finished one wild peach and shamelessly asked her for another.
To be fair, the peaches the monkey brought were even better than the “Hermès of peaches” he’d eaten before.
Chi Qian handed him two. “Eat more—best if you choke on them.”
“Wo-wo.” A familiar call came from the tree.
Chi Qian looked up—it was that same adorable monkey again.
This time it brought her a big bunch of purple grapes.
“Thanks!” Chi Qian rose on tiptoe to pat its head.
“Wo-wo-wo!” The monkey leaned closer, chattering away.
Chi Qian’s gossip radar immediately switched on. She bent toward it eagerly: “You heard that? Damn! That spicy? Tell me more, tell me more!”
“Wo-wo-wo-wo!”
“Tut-tut, so young and already… not working? You’d never guess it looking at him.”
First thing in the morning and she’d already feasted on such fresh, fragrant gossip. Chi Qian’s eyes curved in satisfaction, her mood soaring.
As far as she was concerned, life wasn’t just about catching fish—sunbathing was a must, and fresh gossip was essential.
Beside her, Chi Fengxiao looked at the one-girl-one-monkey encrypted conversation with a face full of indescribable feelings.
Was his kid… having some kind of mental issue?
Who in their right mind chatted so happily with a monkey??
