Chapter 49

Chapter 49

They weren't the only ones assigned to a double bed room.

In no time, those who found their rooms later caused a ruckus too. The most furious were two elderly gentlemen with goatees, dressed in Taoist robes, exuding an air of stiffness from head to toe. Upon seeing the honeymoon suite, they were so enraged that they cursed, promptly drawing the hurriedly departing staff member back.

The staff member was in a difficult position, and Qiu Guokai's representative, responsible for room allocation, was sweating profusely. However, they had no choice but to apologize repeatedly in a low voice, "We're sorry, we're sorry. It's not that we intentionally neglected you; the hotel genuinely has no more rooms. There's no village nearby, but there are a few guesthouses on the mountain, but it's off-season, so business is slow – they're all closed. To free up these accommodations, we even commandeered some of the crew's rooms. The hotel's standard rooms are limited. We'll have to trouble everyone to bear with it for now. We'll ask the housekeeping department to send extra beds and blankets later."

Seeing the young lady on the verge of tears, everyone's hearts softened, and they didn't want to push the issue further. After fuming for a while, the two bearded gentlemen eventually returned to their room with the extra bedding provided by the housekeeping department.

Wei Xi observed his second disciple silently making the bed, sensing that there was something different about his behavior today. Not only was he quiet, but he also occasionally lifted his gaze to look at him, with a weighty emotion seemingly held back in those stares, a complex mix left unsaid.

But Wei Xi didn't pay it much heed. His second disciple had always been a man of few words.

Instead, Wei Xi found himself more intrigued by the room itself. It was the first time in his life that he was staying in a hotel, and the decor was quite distinct from the Wei family room where he had spent most of his recent days.

Shuo Zong watched as he touched everything around him, examining the artificial rose petals on the bed and even putting one in his mouth to bite.

"..............."

He helplessly got up and grabbed Wei Xi's wrist, pulling the plastic flower out of his mouth. It was already chewed to pieces.

The romantic atmosphere had vanished. He pinched Wei Xi's mouth in frustration. "You can't eat this."

"Yuck, it doesn't taste good." Despite his huge appetite, Wei Xi no longer lacked food, unlike when he first came down the mountain. He had long lost interest in these bland ingredients. Obediently, he spat out the remains in his mouth and started fiddling with something else.

Shuo Zong watched his back, unsure of what he was thinking. He turned to draw the curtains of the room.

Downstairs at the hotel, a deep black car finally arrived. Qiu Guokai had come.

******

Everyone was gathered in the hotel conference room, where Qiu Guokai had invited three directors from the film crew.

The directors looked haggard, clearly exhausted by the various incidents that had occurred on their set. Qiu Guokai briefly introduced them and then asked the Taoist group who had arrived early, "Have any of you masters discovered anything since you arrived?"

The Taoist priests from different temples shook their heads collectively. Many of them had taken a stroll around the area after packing their belongings, each carrying their own magical artifacts. However, aside from being more secluded, farther away from the city, and having too many king-size beds, they found nothing suspicious about the hotel.

Qiu Guokai said, disappointed, "Is that so?"

Despite having agreed on a time for the exorcism, the unexpected issues with his own production team left him feeling uneasy and unable to pinpoint the reason.

Shuo Zong observed Wei Xi, who had taken many items from the room and was now engrossed in studying a box of shoe polish.

He couldn't quite understand the appeal of watching someone study shoe polish, but before he knew it, he found himself absorbed in the scene. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Mr. Qiu, what has happened in the unoccupied suite on the seventh floor of this hotel?"

As the only one present who seemed to be aware that the seventh floor was empty, his question surprised the other Daoist priests. "There's no one staying on the seventh floor of the hotel?"

The three directors exchanged glances, as if they were privy to some insider information. They cautiously replied, "Indeed, the seventh floor has been unoccupied. We inquired about it before, and the hotel explained that they stopped using the large suite after several guests reported their TVs and sound systems turning on by themselves at night. Even though the room was eventually closed, strange noises could still occasionally be heard outside at night. Gradually, the hotel staff began to avoid the seventh floor altogether."

"However, I don't think our production is directly involved in these incidents," another director interjected. "Our strange occurrences actually started at the film studio. On the day we took promotional photos, the lighting technician kept mentioning that there were other shadows in front of the actors on the green screen. Later, when the photos were processed, many showed the actors appearing blurred, as if shrouded in fog. At the time, we didn't give it much thought, assuming it was just a dirty lens."

"Not long after, just before filming, the props department reported that costumes had been pulled out of their storage boxes and thrown around, with many props also missing or misplaced."

"Although the most recent disturbance involved the extras, the signs have been there since the beginning. The methods of disruption have been similar, leading us to believe that something impure from the film studio has followed us."

The director finished with a dejected expression. "We did perform the necessary rituals before starting the shoot! And because of the special nature of our subject matter, we've been extra cautious not to offend any taboos. This situation is truly worrying. To be honest, I'm even suspecting that another production might have hired someone to cause trouble."

As they spoke, the director's phone rang. After listening for a moment, he answered with frustration, "Have we finished shooting tonight? Why the sudden decision to wrap up?"

Listening on, the creases on his face deepened significantly.

The problem arose with the female lead number two. She returned to the hotel, weeping like a pear blossom in rain, insisting that she had encountered something eerie and was no longer willing to continue filming, demanding to terminate her contract.

Others chimed in, describing how during the shoot, despite numerous attempts, the female lead number two couldn't get through one particular scene, resulting in over ten retakes. While suspended on wires, she simmered with frustration, blaming the male extra for applying too much force during their interaction.

Being a prominent actress, the entire crew tried to soothe her, even going as far as to prepare a hot coffee for her, worried that she might be cold.

However, as soon as the female lead took the cup, for some inexplicable reason, she spilled the coffee all over herself, staining her clothes and burning her skin.

The coffee-serving assistant was terrified and frantically apologized, but to everyone's surprise, the female lead burst into tears in terror, claiming that an unknown object had struck her wrist, causing her to spill the coffee. Immediately, she connected the incident to the circulating rumor about a haunted set.

Frankly, everyone found it absurd; they had never heard of ghosts playing pranks like spilling coffee. Were ghosts really that bored?

The directors in the conference room shared similar sentiments, getting up one by one to console her, suggesting she was overthinking it.

The female lead couldn't stop crying and stubbornly insisted on her theory: "I'm telling the truth! I'm not lying! Not only did something hit my hand, but I also heard a roar in my ear!"

It seemed she didn't have much credibility among the crew, as they all adopted a "whatever you say" expression. In contrast, Wei Xi looked at the bag that had fallen when the main director stood up.

Shuo Zong followed his gaze and glanced over, bending down to pick up an object with a frown. "What's this?"

It was a CD, placed in a simple transparent case. On the surface of the disc were crooked words written in black marker:

"Personal delivery for Director Wang."

The director's face darkened upon seeing the CD. His gaze turned to his assistant, who anxiously replied, "I, I don't know either. It wasn't me who put it there."

The director seemed more annoyed than afraid. He stepped forward to take the disc from Shuo Zong's hand, saying unhappily, "I've been receiving these since I started preparing for this production. At first, I was terrified, but then I realized they were just horror films."

Upon hearing this, everyone found it eerie. "Horror films?"

Knowing what they were thinking, the director immediately waved his hands. "Not like you're imagining. They're very short horror films, not scary at all. I have no idea which shoddy studio produced them. But after watching so many, I'm still fine. I don't even have nightmares. It's probably some nutcase trying to mess with me. If you want to watch, I have a pile of them in my room."

Many of the Daoist masters in the conference room surged forward to examine the CD.

After a while, the oldest among them, with their beards stroked, judged, "Indeed, there seems to be no malicious intent."

However, everyone was still skeptical about the content on the disc. Since the director didn't take the CD seriously, he instructed his assistant to retrieve all the discs he had received and asked the hotel to bring a player to the conference room.

A pile of discs filled almost half a small cardboard box – an astonishing quantity. The director rummaged through them and picked one out. "This was the first one we received."

The lights in the conference room dimmed as the projector started casting images onto the screen. After a brief blank space, a scene finally appeared.

It was an empty sandy land with not a single accessory in sight. In the center of the frame stood a solitary well.

The setting was somewhat eerie. Unity Yi and Lu Wenqing, who had initially felt uneasy due to being in the same room, leaned closer to Wei Xi.

The Taoist masters focused intently on the screen, attempting to find any usable clues.

Suddenly, without any warning, a dark human head emerged from the well.

Lu Wenqing jumped in fright and clung to Unity Yi. "Ah!"

Everyone present wore grim expressions. Something was amiss!

Then, the director, who had been quiet by the conference table, frowned deeply as his professional instincts kicked in. He began pointing at the screen and said to the two assistant directors beside him, "Look, this is the one. I was furious when I watched it. Take a look at the plot progression. A ghost's head pops out of nowhere. What about the origin of the well? The setup? The buildup? The background music? None of that! And look at the set – it's like a barren grassland that's lost its hair for thirty miles. Sloppy work! Plus, I suspect plagiarism from a famous Japanese horror film. As a professional horror film director, I can't tolerate such trash!"

His voice was deep and powerful, laced with anger and disappointment in other creators in their industry. Whether it was an illusion or not, the dark figure that crawled out of the well paused for a moment before silently retreating as the director's scolding continued.

Indeed, not the slightest bit intimidating...