Chapter 82

Wei Sheng felt he was incredibly warm-hearted to his fans!

He had just taken them through a thrilling haunted house script game, and immediately afterward brought everyone for a bowl of brown sugar ginger tea to calm their nerves.

Fans: ???

It felt like they drank it… but also kind of didn’t.

Auntie Zhang is 65 this year, but she’s been a well-known vendor at the town’s big market for ages. She’s had a hard life—her father and father-in-law were both miners at Jiangdong Town’s coal mine. Back then, having a coal mine job was considered a guaranteed living, quite enviable, so many miners liked to arrange marriages for their children with others from mining families.

So, young Auntie Zhang married her husband, who was also a “second-generation miner.”

Going down the mine paid well but was extremely risky. Auntie Zhang’s father and father-in-law never made it to retirement—her father died young of tuberculosis, and her father-in-law perished in a flooding accident in the mine.

After her father-in-law’s accident, the mine reassigned her husband’s job from digging underground to driving a coal truck as compensation for the family. But bad luck seemed determined to follow them: less than two years into driving, just after Auntie Zhang gave birth to their second child, her husband died in a traffic accident while transporting coal.

The older generation used to say mining was like snatching food from the hands of the King of Hell. There were even strange rumors at the mine back then—if a work crew kept having accidents one after another, dragging down their descendants too, then without a doubt they must have dug into something they shouldn’t have underground…

After her son’s accident, Auntie Zhang’s mother-in-law was terrified, convinced that her son must have unearthed something taboo that cursed their family line.

The old woman was ruthless—in order to protect her grandchildren, she “divorced her daughter-in-law on her son’s behalf” and drove Auntie Zhang and the children out of the house.

Before they left, she secretly stuffed all the family’s savings into her daughter-in-law’s dowry trunk…

Strangely enough, after Auntie Zhang took her children and left, not long after, her mother-in-law drowned while washing clothes by the river. Auntie Zhang and her two children, however, survived safely.

Because of the rumor of a curse, Auntie Zhang and her kids became somewhat of a local supernatural topic in Jiangdong Town. When she later started selling snacks at the market, curious folks from nearby villages would drop by her stall to drink a bowl of ginger tea, crunch on crispy pastries or fried dough twists, and listen to her tell spooky old mine stories.

Honestly, this was way more exciting than just going to the market.

Spend the price of a bowl of ginger tea, get a free ghost story, and see the actual survivor—totally worth it!

With her ginger tea and fried snacks stall, Auntie Zhang raised her two children and even put them through junior college.

At that time, junior college graduates were still quite valuable. Her son and daughter both landed stable government jobs and settled in the city long ago. They’re filial too—originally wanting to bring their mother to live with them in the city, but Auntie Zhang refused!

“Someone has to stay to visit your grandparents’ and great-grandparents’ graves, right?”

Auntie Zhang always believed that if her mother-in-law hadn’t forced her and the children to leave back then, they might not have survived either.

One must be grateful. Her in-laws had treated her well while alive; she couldn’t let the family line end without anyone to burn offerings at their graves.

So, Auntie Zhang kept her stall in town. Her ginger tea is made with real ingredients, brewed with old ginger she grows herself. Maybe it’s the real stuff—people who drink her ginger tea swear they feel braver walking alone at night afterward.

Later, somehow the rumor spread that “Auntie Zhang’s ginger tea is brimming with yang energy,” attracting people prone to bad luck to come drink it.

Wei Sheng talked big about rejecting superstition, yet after leaving the haunted house, he went straight to Auntie Zhang’s stall anyway.

Auntie Zhang’s ginger tea method is an old family recipe: she scoops pre-brewed old ginger broth from a big stainless steel barrel, boils it in a small pot, cracks in a few eggs, skims off the foam, and adds brown sugar to taste while cooking. If the customer is still hungry, they can add a fried dough twist or crispy fritter on the side.

A bowl of steaming ginger tea warms you right up. Maybe it was just their imagination, but Wei Sheng and his fans immediately felt the “yin energy” from the haunted house dissipate, replaced by a gentle warmth rising from their core…

Fans: ???

Did we just switch genres to a cultivation drama?

But the bustling night market really did make the ghostly streets feel more “alive.”

However, the next day, Wei Sheng shattered the fans’ last shred of relief.

At seven in the morning, right during rush hour when office workers were glued to their phones on buses and subways, Wei Sheng posted the same video on Weibo and his short video channel, captioned—

“The ghost market disperses, another new day begins!”

Fans: ???

So that brightly lit night market from last night’s livestream wasn’t even a normal human market? It was actually the hidden script in the “Mine Shaft Wife Murder Case”—the Mine Ghost Market?!

Aaaaaaah—

If not for being surrounded by people during rush hour, the fans would’ve screamed on the spot.

Is it too late to unfollow him now?

Wei Sheng, you monster o(╥﹏╥)o

Thanks to this brilliant double-layered script game, Jiangdong Town became an overnight sensation!

Netizens, both spooked and fascinated, trembled as they searched for every bit of information about Jiangdong Town. They refused to believe it! A “Mine Shaft Wife Murder Case”? A Mine Ghost Market? Surely the production team made it all up!

But seeing all the eerie mine stories popping up in search results, everyone fell into a dead silence…

The good news: Jiangdong Town’s overnight fame shot its search ranking into the Top 10 hot tourist spots!

The bad news: “Retracing the Path of Poverty Alleviation” got reported—again!

The complaint? “Promoting feudal superstitions.”

Director Wang Qun: ???

Big trouble!

A prime-time provincial weekend variety show, focused on poverty relief and rural revitalization, being accused of promoting superstitions?!

One moment Wang Qun was thrilled about trending on social media, the next he was pacing like an ant on a hot pan.

“What do we do now? We’re doomed. I’ll have to write a self-criticism report for sure.”

Wang Qun was furious, wishing he could drag out whoever filed that baseless report and give them a beating!

Promoting feudal superstitions? These young people aren’t half as trendy as this old man! Haven’t they played script murder games?

Besides, even the national TV show “Approaching Science” dabbles in spooky mysteries—why can’t their local channel do it too?

“Calm down, Director Wang. There’s no need to be upset. We should thank whoever reported us.” Wei Sheng suggested—

“They claim we turned a good poverty relief program into a ghost show, right? So let’s run with it: we’ll add another livestream, invite local poverty relief officials and a couple of outspoken villagers. On one hand, we clarify the rumors, and on the other, we let locals explain why Jiangdong Town is developing unique leisure experiences like a script murder game venue…”

His words made perfect sense, and suddenly Wang Qun saw the light.

“Yes, yes, yes! Free hype delivered to our doorstep — of course we’ll milk it for all it’s worth!” Wang Qun instantly turned his anger into delight and went off cheerfully to call the township leaders.

The most pitiful ones were Wei Sheng’s fans. Just yesterday they were clamoring about boycotting him, and today, with the livestream clarifying everything, they had to pretend they’d all forgotten and were now at the front lines defending their idol.

“This is hilarious! Reporting a few murder mystery segments? Why don’t you go report all the other escape room shows first?”

“Some people live in the new era but their brains are stuck in the old society.”

“You’d be better off reporting Wei Sheng for tormenting his fans! I was so freaked out last night I couldn’t sleep a wink. Dragged myself up to work this morning, saw Wei Sheng’s video on the subway and nearly peed myself on the spot. I can’t handle this clown anymore.”

After the reports, the production team urgently released a statement announcing that at 8 PM tonight, they would invite local leaders from Jiangdong Town and representatives of local miners to explain to the complainant and the public why they weren’t focusing on poverty alleviation and farming but instead running a supernatural show in Jiangdong Town.

At 8 PM sharp, the official account’s livestream went live.

When word got out that the production team — whom they’d begged to come with great difficulty — had been reported by some random fool, the Jiangdong Town leaders were furious and simply set the livestream in the township government’s conference room!

The moment the camera zoomed in on the glittering national emblem on the dais, even the cameraman seemed to stand up straighter.

Having the government step in to refute rumors — that’s real confidence!

The first to appear was the poverty alleviation official who had been transferred to Jiangdong Town just last year.

“I hope the viewer who reported the show can come visit Jiangdong Town in person and see it for themselves. After you’ve seen it, if you still think developing a specialty leisure economy is ‘neglecting our proper duties’, then I’ll stand right here and let you scold me for as long as you like.”

“I was transferred here for poverty alleviation last year. I had the same thought as you all: since the coal resources were exhausted and the mines shut down, maybe we could try to restore farmland and develop specialty agriculture.”

“But when I arrived, I realized this mine area is unlike anywhere else. The land simply can’t produce crops or vegetables. The water here is full of toxic minerals — forget irrigating crops, even drinking water is a problem for residents. The water you see with your eyes is undrinkable.”

“It’s not just the soil and water that are toxic. For those who’ve never been to a mine, you might not know this, but the entire underground is hollowed out! Over the past century, Jiangdong Town did thrive thanks to coal, but now the coal is gone, the mining companies have left, and what’s left are collapsing houses and a labyrinth of tunnels underground.”

“When the production team first suggested we turn the abandoned mines and miners’ dormitory areas into a large immersive murder mystery venue, we did have concerns. Not about so-called underground hauntings, but about safety.”

“We hired the team to film footage of the abandoned mines underground. We’ll play it for everyone in a moment, and you’ll understand why we can only develop niche leisure tourism projects like murder mysteries and escape rooms. We have no choice! The entire Jiangdong Town is riddled with collapse risks. We worked with professional geological survey teams to barely open up one safe passage.”

As soon as he finished, the livestream cut to the pre-recorded footage.

It was clear Director Wang had spared no expense to counter the haters — there were drone shots, robot footage, the works.

From a high aerial view, the entire Jiangdong Town was a barren expanse of abandoned mines, lifeless pits of eerie blue and green water, giving the land an apocalyptic feel.

There were hardly any signs of human life left. Only rusting mining equipment gave faint hints of past labor.

In the distance, crumbling buildings lay scattered against the pitch-black backdrop like the carcasses of giant beasts long dead, now sprouting vivid green ivy in their decay.

Viewers who’d clicked in just for the drama fell silent at the sight.

Such scenes were rare even in today’s news.

No wonder local officials said traditional agriculture and forestry were impossible here — with all this mine slag, not even weeds could grow. How could locals farm anything?

The camera pushed deeper into the mines. Following its lens, viewers saw the dark tunnels underground, crisscrossing abandoned shafts, some collapsed, some flooded. The robot squeezed through narrow passages and captured a breathtaking underground river scene…

A clip less than ten minutes long instantly blew up the live chat.

“Holy crap! Was this director a documentary filmmaker before? This footage is insane!”

“These township officials are too modest. Jiangdong Town doesn’t have ‘nothing’ — you guys have a natural giant outdoor adventure base!”

“Don’t get too excited yet. The official just said the mines are a maze of tunnels that could collapse at any moment. Didn’t you see the warning signs at every entrance? This environment is definitely too dangerous for tourism. Adventure? More like risking your life!”

“No wonder the production team only used that one street. I bet that’s the safe area the survey team cleared in advance. Abandoned mines really are dangerous — just look up the news.”

“My hometown used to be a mining area too. After the coal was dug out, houses would randomly collapse and sinkholes would appear. It was terrifying. And in mines that’ve been exploited for decades, the soil, air, and water are all poisoned! You guys haven’t seen vegetables grown on a mine site — they look way creepier than anything you find in a market.”

“I suddenly get why the production team suggested turning Jiangdong Town into a murder mystery venue. It doesn’t need much space, and they can slowly survey more safe areas and open more themed venues, like escape rooms or treasure hunts in the mines. I’d totally go!”

After the video ended, the production team brought in the miners’ representatives for the livestream.

If the poverty official was just an outsider offering objective analysis, then these miners — whose families had lived and died on these mines for generations — were people steeped in hardship.

Unlike their fathers’ generation, who’d ridden the industrial boom and enjoyed high pay and social status (back then coal miners had no trouble finding wives — every young woman wanted to marry a well-paid miner), this generation of miners had become a group abandoned by society. For a long time, when no one wanted the job, shady middlemen emerged to trick people into digging coal.

They say the post-80s generation had it tough — but post-80s coal miners had it even worse.

Those less fortunate had long perished in mining accidents.

The slightly luckier ones suffered debilitating occupational diseases.

The miner representative invited today, Gao Guangjun, was one of the luckiest among the post-80s miners — no accidents, no major diseases — but compared to his peers, his life was still miserable.

The poverty alleviation official wasn’t wrong—apart from mining, transporting coal, and, ahem, stealing coal, there were hardly any proper jobs to be found in Jiangdong Town.

Back when the coal industry was booming, the mines were crowded, the miners had money, and the older generation of retired miners could still set up stalls to make a living. But for Gao Guangjun’s generation, the coal was all dug out, the coal bosses had run off with bulging wallets, and the miners were long gone. What else could they do?

Gao Guangjun’s parents were old and riddled with illnesses. Every month, just paying for their medicine was a huge expense. He had a wife and two kids to feed. His wife sold vegetables at a stall in town, and he had bought a second-hand small truck to bring in cheap oranges, apples, and other fruit from outside. One trip, if he was lucky, after fuel costs, he could earn a thousand or so yuan.

If he was unlucky and ran into days of rain or got fined by urban management, that trip would mean a loss.

But if he didn’t do this, he had no other job he could take that allowed him to rush home at a moment’s notice. Just like many mothers tied down by their children, Gao Guangjun was tied down by his bedridden, ailing parents.

Right now, his biggest hope was that the town’s tourism economy would develop as soon as possible. With people coming in, business for stall owners and transporters would pick up.

Whether it’s farming or running a stall, for ordinary folks like him, as long as it puts food on the table, it’s a good job!

A simple, unembellished livestream had, by the time it was ending, attracted over a million live viewers!

Even Wang Qun himself hadn’t expected that his impulsive decision to piggyback on some trending buzz would suddenly push the show’s popularity to heights the first season had never even touched!

The reason was simple—poverty alleviation content naturally has a limited audience, but Jiangdong Town’s unique terrain and the built-in intrigue of the murder mystery experience hall instantly expanded the show’s reach across several new audiences!

Before the livestream had even ended, a huge number of photography and outdoor adventure enthusiasts had followed the show’s video account, all waiting for the town to open safe tourism zones so they could come film and experience the abandoned mines for themselves.

A flood of murder mystery and escape room fans also commented that as long as Jiangdong Town set up a proper experience base, they’d definitely come and spend money.

What surprised Wang Qun and the crew even more was that quite a few industry magazines reached out, hoping the crew could help them make connections so they too could come to Jiangdong Town to shoot on location…

Right after that, Zhou Mingxing’s call came through—

Several directors of period dramas, thrillers, horror films, and suspense movies in the industry, having somehow seen that video the crew shot of Jiangdong Town, found out that Zhou Mingxing worked for J Province TV Station. They simply asked him to act as a go-between, hoping to shoot their projects amidst the abandoned mines of Jiangdong Town too.

Wang Qun: “…”

This direction for poverty alleviation was truly beyond what he’d ever imagined!

(End of this chapter)