Ch 102: The Cannon Fodder Won’t Play Along Anymore [QT]

“These past few days I’ve met many people, and I know what everyone is most curious about.”

Mu Xing said, “The day I first woke up, I ran into a man who made a hobby out of filming spirits. He was a streamer with quite a lot of followers.”

【Filming spirits? Isn’t that kind of equipment already banned from private trade and use?】
【There will always be people who exploit loopholes.】

“I’ve been awake for some time now, and I’ve also spoken with professional researchers. They asked me to tell everyone some truths myself.”

He repeated what he’d told Elder Yu and the others—now for the whole star network audience.

He explained that spirits weren’t formed by chance, and that having one’s soul linger after death was not a good thing.

This was clearly nothing like what people had imagined.

【Oh god, so those who remain as spirits after death are actually pitiful souls?】
【No wonder—once I browsed some records in the library, and the spirits captured on film all looked terrifying. Likely because they had suffered terribly in life.】
【To die, yet be trapped in the obsession of death, reliving the pain endlessly—this is too tragic.】
【Then what about you, little young master? Did you also suffer?】

Someone asked.

Mu Xing smiled as he answered:
“Yes, I was deceived once. When I died, I carried a lot of unwillingness. But I’ve moved on now, so I can still communicate clearly with everyone.”

“If you have other questions about the dead, whatever I know, I can share.”

The audience stared blankly at the refined and delicate boy before them.

He said only those who died with unbearable pain and unwillingness could remain after death as lingering spirits.

He said he had suffered too.

Yet his expression was calm, his smile clear without a shadow—nothing about him suggested past suffering.

Many viewers suddenly felt heavy-hearted.

At this point, they still didn’t know that since Mu Xing had resolved his obsession, he would soon disappear.

Qu Shao sensed the atmosphere becoming heavy, so she quickly steered the topic:
“So the young master is telling us not to desecrate the dead at will, correct?”

Mu Xing nodded.
“Life is worthy of respect, and to make entertainment of the dead is unacceptable. This is not only advice, but a warning. Those who take pleasure from the dead naturally take on a karmic debt. When the time comes, that debt will be repaid.”

His words were vague, yet somehow made a small portion of viewers shiver.

They tried to brush it off—he must just be speaking ominously on purpose, right?

But the majority took it seriously.

【Absolutely. I never knew this about spirits. I’ll never watch those again.】
【But… can we help them somehow?】
【Just thinking about it is too heartbreaking.】

Mu Xing looked at these kind comments and said warmly:
“I’ve already cooperated with the authorities. I believe in time they will find more ways to help spirits.”

“……”

Meanwhile, Xiang Feicheng was also watching at home.

His father, seeing Mu Xing, asked in amazement:
“That’s the same prince our ancestor knew, the one from over two thousand years ago?”

Excited, he looked at Xiang Feicheng:
“That’s an antique! And a prince! Do you think he might know about some treasure maps or something? Maybe, out of respect for our old family ties, he’ll leave us some treasures?”

Xiang Feicheng: “……”

Thinking back on Mu Xing’s attitude toward him, he strongly suspected his ancestor’s so-called “friendship” with the prince had been very superficial.

After all, Mu Xing seemed not only indifferent to him, but outright displeased.

He was still brooding when, unexpectedly, Mu Xing brought up his family.

Or rather—his ancestor.

Perhaps prompted by a viewer question, the boy on screen frowned. His solemn, dignified expression vanished, replaced by a look of pure disdain. Translated on Hololo novels.

Even his pale cheeks puffed up slightly, making him look once again like the adorable, pouty young master everyone wanted to call their “cub.”

“Xiang Fangting, my dearest friend? Lies!” Mu Xing dismissed without hesitation.

Anyway, it had been over two millennia. No one could contradict him now.

He went on, serious-faced nonsense:
“I don’t even know how that rumor got started. I do know the name Xiang Fangting, but we were not close at all.”

“He wasn’t very well-liked among the nobility. He did have talent, but he was calculating, obsessed with power, and a womanizer…”

Taking advantage of his untouchable position, his youthful looks, and his natural charm, Mu Xing spared no effort in smearing:
“My father and mother wouldn’t even let me play with him.”

【??? I just picked up some old storybooks today, and my CP already got killed off before it began?】
【Hahaha this sounds exactly like parents forbidding their precious child from hanging out with a bad influence.】
【Who’s Xiang Fangting? Never heard of him, but from what the young master says, he’s clearly no good.】
【I’m a history major, and Xiang Fangting was from my hometown. I only recently researched his life. So the county records… were all lies?】

Mu Xing happened to see that comment and, being rather petty, piled on:

“County records are all compiled locally. Xiang Fangting was one of the few high-ranking officials from that county, so at the time his rise was seen as a great honor for the whole region. Records like that only ever highlight the good, and exaggerate it heavily.”

【Ha, figured as much.】
【Makes sense—if a place finally produces one standout, of course they’ll hype him up to the heavens.】

Mu Xing watched the comments race past with satisfaction.
Good. Now no one would ever link Xiang Fangting and Prince Yu together again, right?

Thinking that, he suddenly felt drowsy. Half-covering his face with his sleeve, he let out a yawn.

The yawn brought a faint flush to his pale cheeks, and even teased a tear from the corner of his eye.

The audience: !!

【Screenshot! The cub is so beautiful!】
【The little prince yawns just like my cat—makes me want to pet him.】
【Is he… sleepy? Wait, spirits get sleepy too?】

Mu Xing himself seemed briefly startled, then he turned to Qu Shao and said:
“I’m a little tired. Let’s stop here for today. Goodbye, everyone.”

Before Qu Shao or the audience could react, the seat where he’d been was empty.

No one caught how Mu Xing vanished—he was simply gone, without a trace.

The audience erupted, but Mu Xing paid it no mind.

He had returned to the old manor.

The drowsiness lingered, along with a growing weakness.

So this was how it felt when a spirit resolved its obsession and neared dissolution—just like a person growing weaker and weaker with illness.

Mu Xing yawned again, found his bed, and slowly lay down.

---

Xiang Feicheng, meanwhile, sat dazed in his room.

After watching the broadcast, he couldn’t shake a strange feeling.

So the young prince and his ancestor hadn’t been close friends at all?

He had even planned to use that connection to cozy up to the young prince.

No wonder the boy’s attitude toward him had soured so suddenly.

Thinking back to Mu Xing’s face on the broadcast, delicate as spring blossoms, his heart stirred: compared to him, all his past girlfriends were nothing but vulgar powder and paint.

Just then, someone knocked on his door.

Xiang Feicheng thought it was family, and called out casually, “Come in.”

But the knocking went on. He repeated himself, still the knocks continued.

Frowning, he got up and yanked the door open. “I said come in—why keep knocking—”

The rest of his words stuck in his throat.

Darkness poured in.

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