Chapter 129: The Story

He Xu and Zheng Yi handled the communication themselves, so Qin Qing didn’t interfere.

She curled up in the office, snacking while reviewing some recent client files.

Once Wuyong got off work, she could hitch a ride back up the mountain.

An hour before closing, an unexpected visitor arrived at the studio.

Huang Youchang.

He was still in a wheelchair, but the person pushing him had changed to someone who looked like a bodyguard.

Qin Fanghao led him into the office, where he spoke with a genial smile, praising the studio’s reputation.

“I’ve heard that this place can help find anything or anyone one seeks. Just like your company’s name suggests. I wonder if I might have my wish granted.”

The moment Qin Qing heard his voice, the crispy noodles in her hand lost all appeal.

“Well, Little Daoist Master, we meet again,” he said with a look of feigned surprise, motioning for the bodyguard to wheel him over to Qin Qing.

Qin Qing returned a polite, measured smile.

“Hello, Mr. Huang.”

Huang Youchang sighed. “Surely the Daoist Master knows I’m not doing well. I’ve come seeking a way to save my life. I wonder if the Little Daoist Master might offer some guidance.”

Wuyong stepped forward to stand in front of Qin Qing.

“The person Mr. Huang is looking for is me. I’m aware of your situation. Senior Brother Wuwang told me about it.”

Huang Youchang finally turned his gaze from Qin Qing to Wuyong, nodding slightly. “My apologies. So this gentleman is also a Daoist Master from Baiyun Temple.”

“I’m sorry, but our firm can’t help you, Mr. Huang.”

“Isn’t that a bit too absolute, Daoist Master?” Huang Youchang was still smiling.

Wuyong replied, “Everything in this world is bound by cause and effect. Mr. Huang, you should already be mentally prepared for your condition.”

“So… there’s nothing to discuss?” Huang Youchang tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest of his wheelchair. “Won’t the Daoist Master at least hear what I’m willing to offer? My family has been in business for generations and holds some influence in the north…”

Wuyong bowed slightly. “Apologies. This kind of affliction is beyond human remedy. I truly regret that I cannot help.”

Huang Youchang finally dropped the smile, letting out a cold snort. “Cause and effect?”

He gave Qin Qing and Wuyong a long, hard look before signaling the bodyguard to wheel him out, his face dark.

The office door closed behind him.

Qin Qing said, “Before I left the mountain, I heard from Daoist Wuwang that he brought a stack of long-lost prescriptions to the free clinic this morning, hoping to make a deal. The Daoist Master refused. I didn’t expect him to show up here. He started out talking about fate and accepting life and death, but I knew it wasn’t that simple. Barely a few days have passed and he’s already desperate.”

Her eyes held a trace of worry. “That man has a vicious heart and ruthless methods, yet he puts on the act of a refined gentleman. If he’s truly at the end of his rope, I’m afraid he might lash out and cause trouble for the temple.”

Qin Qing set down her phone. “Don’t worry. I’ve already reported the situation. Baiyun Temple isn’t without protection, after all.”

Wuyong’s expression eased slightly, though he sighed again. “It’s just a shame about those prescriptions, the result of our ancestors’ painstaking efforts.”

Fortunately, Wuyong’s worries didn’t come to pass.

That very night, Huang Youchang and his grandson packed up and left the city.

—

Zheng Yi and Yang Sang’s wedding was held as scheduled.

Yang Sang had poured her heart into the preparations, and it showed in every detail.

They held a garden ceremony, with the decorations blending beautifully into the venue.

The guest list was small, limited to their closest friends and family. Everyone who arrived was awestruck.

It felt like stepping into Alice’s dreamlike wonderland.

When He Xu made his entrance, the guests were amazed all over again, and the atmosphere instantly came alive.

He Xu was dressed modestly and didn’t overshadow the couple. His words throughout the ceremony felt like a warm conversation between old friends, blessing the newlyweds with sincerity.

Unlike most emcees who came off as stiff or exaggerated, He Xu’s approach was natural and heartfelt. Zheng Yi must have been pleased.

When the bride entered, her face veiled in gauzy fabric, everyone burst into laughter upon seeing the two flower children following behind her.

The two were quite the pair in terms of size.

One was little Qin Jiamu, wearing a red bowtie. The other was Candy, the adorable cat with a lace collar who looked like she’d stepped out of a commercial.

Candy was actually the matchmaker who brought the couple together.

With her round head, round eyes, and round paws, Candy waddled forward, her fluffy belly swaying with every step, making people want to scoop her up and give her a squeeze.

A string was tied to her collar, and the other end was held in Mumu’s mouth.

Mumu, completely unbothered, actually seemed to enjoy being the center of attention. Head held high, he led Candy at a steady pace behind the bride’s veil.

Whenever Candy saw the trailing veil gliding along the grass, she couldn’t resist pouncing or swatting at it with her little paws.

At those moments, Mumu would tug the string and pause, waiting for the veil to move forward again before continuing.

The guests were thoroughly engaged.

Phones were raised to capture the beautiful moments of the couple, but no one wanted to miss the antics of the furry pair either. It was a delightful chaos.

After the ceremony, Mumu led Candy offstage and dashed straight toward Qin Qing, who finally let out a sigh of relief.

A few days earlier, Zheng Yi had asked to borrow Mumu, and Qin Qing had worried the cat’s free-spirited nature would cause trouble. Thankfully, everything went smoothly.

She quickly got up to rescue Candy, who had been dragged along for dozens of meters and was panting heavily.

The chubby cat collapsed on her lap, completely still.

Mumu, meanwhile, was still pawing at her playfully.

These two were the studio’s beloved mascots, and everyone at the table was eager to fuss over them.

They even had their own little banquet table—a small side table set up right next to the main one in the studio.

Their bowls were decorated with red double happiness symbols, making it feel like a proper wedding feast.

When the meal began, Qin Fanghao was nowhere to be seen. Qin Qing asked about her, and someone explained that she had taken her camera to follow and film the wedding.

“There’s a professional photography team for the wedding, but Fanghao just wanted to have some fun. She said she’s going to edit a studio version of the event.”

Qin Fanghao only returned after the newlyweds finished their rounds of toasting.

She dropped a video in the group chat before digging in, shoveling food into her mouth with gusto.

“Just a quick sample edit. Let me know what you think of the vibe. If it works, I’ll cut the full video in this style.”

Everyone, having mostly finished eating, picked up their phones to watch the video. At the same time, they pushed over the crab, shrimp, and other delicacies they had saved earlier for Qin Fanghao.

The video was only about twenty seconds long. There was no narrative, just a series of fragmented shots.

But with its unique angles, clever editing, and well-chosen music, it gave off a completely different feeling.

One colleague voiced what everyone was thinking: “Those glances, that back view, that side profile… it’s like fate itself is screaming these two are meant to be together.”

That sparked a chorus of agreement. “Exactly! It feels like they have so many stories between them. I’m officially shipping this couple.”

“Edit the whole thing like this. If this were a drama, I’d stay up all night binge-watching it.”

“I’ve seen the official photos and videos from the photography team—this blows them out of the water.”

“Ahhh, how is our Fanghao this talented? I’m calling it now—this is the work of a master!”

Qin Fanghao nibbled on a crab leg, smiling modestly.

The discussion was heating up when, unexpectedly, He Xu came over from the main table, carrying his bowl. He dragged over an empty chair and plopped down beside Qin Fanghao.

“What’s going on here? Sounds lively.”

Seeing his bowl was empty, Qin Fanghao nudged the plate of hearty dishes toward him.

He Xu didn’t stand on ceremony. He grabbed a shrimp with his bare hands and started eating, watching the video as he chewed—shell and all, straight down.

He replayed the video several times.

Then he gave a simple verdict: “This is really good.”

He turned to Qin Fanghao, as if he’d just discovered a hidden gem. “So you don’t just write—you can shoot and edit too? Ever thought about becoming a director? Bringing your stories to life on screen?”

Qin Fanghao gave him a light smack, her ears turning pink. “What are you talking about? I was just messing around. It’s nothing serious.”

Qin Qing perked up. “You write stories?”

He Xu let out an “Ah,” clearly realizing he’d said too much.

“What kind of thing do we coworkers see each other every day and not know, but you just met her and already do?” Qin Qing teased.

With no way out, Qin Fanghao confessed.

Turns out, in her spare time, she’d been writing a novel inspired by the studio’s oddball client cases.

He Xu jumped in to explain, “We found out while chatting during the wedding rehearsals. I’ve read it—it’s really compelling. I told her she should submit it or post it on a web novel platform, but she wouldn’t. Says it’s just for fun. But you guys should read it. I think you’ll love it.”

Qin Qing had no idea. Not that she was some kind of creep who checked everyone’s logs every day.

“How much have you written?” she asked.

Qin Fanghao looked embarrassed and mumbled, “Three hundred thousand words.”

!!!

That’s enough for a full-length movie.

Though curious, Qin Qing didn’t want to pressure her.

Instead, she encouraged her, “You’ve got talent. When you’re ready, you should think about publishing it.”

Hearing that, Qin Fanghao visibly relaxed and nodded. “Okay.”

Since even the boss had spoken, the other coworkers, no matter how curious, didn’t tease her further.

But the next morning, as soon as Qin Qing and Wuyong arrived at the office, Qin Fanghao knocked on the door. She placed a thick stack of A4 paper on the desk. A quick glance showed it was densely packed with text.

“Boss, Teacher Wuyong, I thought about it all night and decided I’d really like your feedback on my story. This is the first volume.”

“Us?” Qin Qing and Wuyong exchanged a look. “I don’t have much of a literary bone in me.”

Wuyong, organizing some documents, added, “If you want business advice, I’m your guy. But writing? Not my thing. The only three things I can write well are talismans, project proposals, and academic papers.”

“My main characters are loosely based on you two,” Qin Fanghao explained. “The stories are inspired by our studio’s clients. I just want to know if you’re okay with that. If you give me permission, I’ll submit it.”

The A4 paper was still warm—clearly just printed.

“Alright, we’ll read it and get back to you,” Qin Qing agreed.

After finishing their essential tasks for the day, the two of them curled up on the office couch and started reading.

The story featured two protagonists. One was a Genius Fate Master, compassionate and kind, though occasionally adorably clueless. The other was a Daoist Lineage Heir, highly skilled in the mystical arts and considered the rising star of the Taoist sect—except he had none of the aloof, otherworldly demeanor one might expect. His greatest passion? Money.

As they read, both Qin Qing and Wuyong scratched their faces at the same time.

They could see the same thought in each other’s eyes: “Is this supposed to be me? No way!”

Though the story drew from real-life inspiration, by the end of the first volume, Qin Qing felt it had become something entirely its own.

The writing had the flavor of a modern *Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio*—urban fantasy on the surface, but really a deep dive into the human condition, exploring kindness and cruelty, good and evil.

They finished the first volume in one sitting and handed the manuscript back to Qin Fanghao, telling her to go ahead and submit it.

Neither of them would ever admit that the characters were based on them.

And since that premise didn’t exist, there was no question of copyright.

At the end of Volume One, the final scene showed the Genius Fate Master and the Daoist Lineage Heir caught in a fierce battle, completely isolated and on the brink of death.

Before leaving, Qin Qing had asked a question out of curiosity.

Qin Fanghao quickly waved his hands in explanation. “I didn’t mean anything against the two of them, I swear. More than anyone, I want them to come through safely. It’s just that, as the main characters, they’ve had it too easy since the beginning. That kind of smooth sailing wears out the audience. They need to face some real adversity.”

“Relax,” Qin Qing said. “I was just wondering—have you written the next part yet? What happens to them?”

Qin Fanghao scratched his head, a little embarrassed. “I got stuck at that point. Still figuring out how to handle it.”

Qin Qing looked a bit disappointed but encouraged her. “Keep at it. Once you’ve got it down, let us take a look first.”

“Your boss is right,” Wuyong chimed in, dead serious in his academic tone. “I don’t think those two characters have much to do with us, but we can still take a look. Offer some technical guidance, check for any major plot holes.”

Qin Qing nodded. “Exactly.”

Qin Fanghao gave a little bow, then ran off happily with her notebook in her arms.

The two of them had been dragged into following the serialized story, only to get stuck at a cliffhanger. It was incredibly frustrating.

Only a hotpot feast could fix this.

They grabbed Shi Jiang and headed to a well-known hotpot place to indulge themselves.

The only downside was the long wait. By the time the three of them finished eating and were walking toward Baiyun Temple, it was nearly eleven at night.

Shi Jiang was driving. Qin Qing and Wuyong, both reeking of hotpot, were dozing off in the back seat, heads leaning against each other.

Suddenly, a sharp pang of unease jolted Qin Qing awake.

“Ah…” A wave of pain made her cry out. Her body slipped from the seat and collapsed onto the floor.

Shi Jiang slammed on the brakes. Wuyong woke up instantly.

Qin Qing was drenched in sweat. As soon as she caught her breath, she urged, “Don’t stop! Keep going! There’s danger! Call for backup, now!”

The System Panel showed no abnormalities, but Qin Qing had never felt such intense panic before. Her heart pounded like a death knell.

It was just like the time she felt someone watching her—only this time, it was even worse.

She chose to trust her instincts. This wasn’t an accident. It was a man-made threat.

There was no time to ask questions. Wuyong was already acting on her words. She jumped from the back seat to the driver’s seat and started the car.

Shi Jiang helped Qin Qing sit up and lean against the seat, then hit a speed dial. After a few quick words, she reported, “The other two team members are at a hotel at the foot of Jinyun Mountain. They’re already on their way—just three kilometers out.”

“Three kilometers…” Qin Qing repeated the number.

She didn’t know if that would be enough. A lot could happen in that distance.

Meanwhile, Shi Jiang was entering a security code, mobilizing the nearest armed units for support.

Qin Qing’s phone lit up. The caller ID read: Captain.

She answered, but there was only silence on the other end.

She pulled the phone away and checked the screen—no signal, no network.

Shi Jiang raised her own phone, showing Qin Qing the screen.

Her expression was darker and more serious than ever. “Director Feng tried calling me too. The call cut off before it even connected. The signal in this area is being jammed. They came prepared.”

Qin Qing checked the System Panel again. Still, no abnormalities.

The system she had always relied on couldn’t help her this time.

Her heart sank to the bottom.