STD CH1

Chapter 1: The Strange Youth

The holidays for wildly popular celebrities are usually outrageously scarce.

For a top “fresh meat” idol like Lu Wenxi, a high-density schedule where he could only sleep three hours in two days was common practice. Yet, his company had suddenly given him a full seven days off. It wasn’t to let him rest, but to have him hide from reporters, lay low, and be a quiet, handsome man for a while.

He hadn’t done drugs, he had no romantic scandals, he hadn’t gotten into any fights, nor had he relieved himself in public. It was simply because his acting was far too terrible.

A recently released movie titled Grandmaster was currently in its key promotional phase.

The movie’s director, screenwriter, and production team were all top-tier, and the cast was star-studded. The lead was an international action superstar, making it a massive production with a stellar lineup and a colossal investment. The initial promotion was a huge spectacle, dominating headlines across all major platforms and generating hype on Weibo for quite a while.

In the movie, Lu Wenxi played the role of one of the male lead’s disciples during his teenage years. Historically, this character would also go on to become a heroic figure, a martial arts grandmaster during the Republic of China era. In those turbulent times, he became a spiritual leader for the people, known for his righteousness and for winning people over with virtue.

In the early days of cinema, there were many movies featuring this specific historical figure as the protagonist.

Yet, Lu Wenxi somehow managed to play this character as a rebellious delinquent, adopting a “Young and Dangerous” triad style. He turned a revered hero into “Chan Ho Nam.”

After watching the movie, the descendants of the historical figure directly sued Lu Wenxi, stating he had damaged their ancestor’s heroic image, and they posted a lawyer’s letter on Weibo.

Fans also began complaining furiously, saying Lu Wenxi had a paralyzed face, his acting was so bad it was embarrassing, and screenshots of every emotional scene yielded the exact same expression. Aside from glaring, he couldn’t do anything else.

Later on, the rhythm of the discussion was deliberately led astray, coupled with crazy attacks from anti-fans telling Lu Wenxi to roll out of the entertainment circle and go back to being a young master. It became a front-page trending topic, and for the first time, his company felt completely powerless in their PR efforts.

The producers promoted the movie desperately, but they still couldn’t snatch the trending top spots away from Lu Wenxi. It was hard to say whether Lu Wenxi’s popularity was just that insanely awesome, or if he truly was just… leaving people lost for words.

After Lu Wenxi got his vacation, he was “escorted” to the suburbs to “recuperate quietly.”

He was a textbook rich second generation. On the wealth rankings, his father was firmly planted on the list, and the name was a household one: Lu Yushang.

Many people said that Lu Wenxi entering the entertainment circle was just a wealthy young master coming to play around.

The moment he debuted, he received top-tier resources, leaving countless hardworking actors in the dust. And the result was him ruining a perfectly good movie and a perfectly good script. Adding to the fact that his reputation had never been good, this massive wave of blackening didn’t surprise anyone.

This suburban house was one of the many properties under Lu Wenxi’s name. After it was renovated, he had never lived in it, leaving it completely vacant. If he hadn’t suddenly spotted the door card and keys while packing a few days ago, he would have forgotten he even owned this place.

When the doorbell rang, Lu Wenxi was in the middle of opening packages.

He was opening them personally not because he was down-to-earth, but because he enjoyed the sensation of the exact moment a package was opened, giving him the thrill of exploring unknown territory. This was also his way of relieving stress. He would buy continuously, buying so much that the boxes filled half his living room, to the point where he couldn’t even remember what he had bought. Opening them and seeing what was inside felt like a pleasant surprise.

He clapped his hands, stood up, and walked to the entrance to turn on the video intercom, only to see no one at the door.

He switched the camera feed from the ground floor building entrance to his own front door, but both were completely empty. This made him click his tongue in annoyance. He turned off the intercom and went back to wrestling with his packages.

But the moment he turned around, the doorbell rang again.

He spun back quickly and immediately tapped the screen to look. He toggled between the two camera views for a long time, but there was still no one.

Now he was getting a little annoyed.

Before coming here, he had specifically asked his assistant to notify property management that he didn’t like being disturbed, especially by paparazzi or sasaeng fans. All his packages were unified at the management office under his assistant’s name. Every morning when his assistant came to deliver his meals, they would bring the packages up.

Could it be that after staying here for just one day, the paparazzi had already hunted him down? Did they really have to stick to him like glue?

He really wanted to curse at the intercom, but after thinking about it carefully, he gave up on the idea. That would undoubtedly expose the fact that he was indeed hiding here.

When he went back to unboxing again, the doorbell rang two more times. He ignored it.

After waiting for about ten minutes, he finally got up, went to the door, turned on the video intercom, and continued toggling the cameras to observe. He even turned on the recording function to see if someone was still messing around, intending to catch them in the act.

Right as he switched the feed, the doorbell rang again.

In both camera feeds, there was absolutely no one.

“F*ck,” Lu Wenxi cursed, guessing that someone might be remotely manipulating his doorbell.

To confirm, he opened his own front door, wanting to see if the doorbell had been tampered with. But the moment the door cracked open, a gust of cold wind blew in.

This cold wind was very strange. Calling it a ghostly draft wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

The wind practically blew right through his body, chilling Lu Wenxi down to the marrow, making him experience a bone-deep cold. For that split second, his body felt like it had been shoved into an ice cellar. The unpacked bubble wrap scattered on the living room floor was also blown flying in all directions.

The wind rippled through the house, spun in a circle, and vanished.

Lu Wenxi shivered uncontrollably from the cold gust. He stood frozen for a moment, then peeked his head out to look. There was no one in the hallway. He stood in the doorway and examined his doorbell, but it didn’t look like it had been pried open.

Even though it was the suburbs, this was still a tier-one city. The residential property management was excellent, and the security was tight. You had to swipe a card to get in the main gate, swipe again at the building entrance, and the elevator card only corresponded to your specific floor. You even had to bring your property deed just to get a new card made. Ordinary paparazzi shouldn’t be able to sneak in, so it was highly likely someone had tampered with the doorbell down on the first floor.

He sighed, went back into the living room, and decided to have his assistant deal with property management tomorrow.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it himself, but if he showed his face, it would definitely invite unnecessary trouble. Right now, he needed to be a dedicated “turtle pulling its head into its shell.”

Just as he rolled up his sleeves to resume unboxing, he suddenly heard the sound of footsteps in the stairwell. Lu Wenxi had been paying attention to the noises at the door, so he noticed it immediately.

The footsteps were actually very light. What was bizarre was that as this person walked, they seemed to be dragging something. That object scraped against the floor tiles, emitting a steady noise.

Lu Wenxi was listening intently when he heard a knock on the door.

He couldn’t help but laugh. This time it was knocking, so there couldn’t possibly be no one there, right? Delivering themselves to his door?

He immediately turned around and switched on the video intercom. The moment the screen flickered to life, he stared blankly at the person in the frame.

In the video was a young man.

Simple, short black hair, a clean appearance with no makeup, yet possessing looks that rivaled the numerous fresh meat idols in the entertainment circle.

The youth had sword-like eyebrows. His eyes weren’t particularly large, neither flamboyant nor flashy, but looking closely, one would notice his eye shape was incredibly beautiful—long, narrow phoenix eyes that carried a compelling, heroic spirit. His nose bridge was very high and straight, but his lips were quite thin. Paired with a chiseled face, he was a remarkably handsome young man.

The youth was wearing only a simple white hoodie without a single letter printed on it. He held something resembling a Fengshui compass in his hand and was looking down at the needle.

Lu Wenxi watched the youth for a moment, then couldn’t help but let out a mocking smile.

He reached out and pulled the front door open, quietly observing the youth standing there. Looking at him directly, rather than through the intercom screen, the youth seemed even more handsome, with seemingly flawless skin.

However, the moment the youth raised his head, Lu Wenxi couldn’t smile anymore.

The youth’s pupils were extremely dark, like unmelted ink, so black that no texture could be seen. Pitch black, entirely hollow, lifeless, and exuding an eerie vibe.

Chilling and gloomy, more piercing than the bitter winter.

After recovering his wits a moment later, Lu Wenxi finally asked, “How did you get up here?”

The youth was also observing Lu Wenxi. He seemingly hadn’t ever encountered such a flashy man and couldn’t help but take a few extra glances.

Lu Wenxi’s hair was dyed silvery-white, with the tips tinted a cherry blossom pink. His stylist had swept it up to the top of his head, exposing his full forehead. The jacket he wore was a holographic, silvery-white coat that caught the eye immediately, shifting with blue, pink, and yellow hues—basically, it was vibrant and colorful.

Because of this jacket, Lu Wenxi looked just like a blooming, fleshy-pink rose.

He wore a thick jacket as if afraid of the cold, yet paired it with ripped, holey jeans. To the youth, this was completely nondescript and incongruous.

Finally, the youth’s gaze settled on Lu Wenxi’s face.

In the entertainment industry, Lu Wenxi’s acting and personality couldn’t stand up to scrutiny, but his face certainly could.

The reason Lu Wenxi was able to explode in popularity in such a short time was probably precisely because he had a face that could captivate a hundred people with a single smile.

Thick eyebrows matched with peach blossom eyes, a high, straight nose bridge, and a round, slightly upturned nose tip. From the side, the shape of his nose was so perfect that plastic surgeons could use it as a textbook example. Even while on “vacation,” he hadn’t forgotten to put makeup on his face. His lips were tinted a peachy-orange hue, perfectly complementing his snow-white skin.

There was once a trending topic on Weibo ranking the side profiles of male celebrities, and Lu Wenxi had comfortably taken first place.

His jawline was exquisitely beautiful, and because he had never had plastic surgery, his expressions were natural. There were no ugly photos of him with a stiff face, which was why “face fans” had always formed the mainstream base of Lu Wenxi’s fandom.

You could refuse to concede to anything about Lu Wenxi, but when it came to his visuals, you had no choice but to yield.

Perhaps because he knew he was handsome, Lu Wenxi always maintained a confident and unhurried demeanor. Right now, he was still handsome to the point of breaking the rules.

The youth finally spoke, “Pindao tracked an evil spirit all the way to this location. That evil spirit just a moment ago seems to have been let into the house by you. Could you allow Pindao to…”

Before the youth could finish, Lu Wenxi interrupted with a cold laugh, “Evil spirit? And Pindao?”

“Yes, the compass shows…”

“Are you paparazzi or a sasaeng?”

“Pindao is…”

“Oh, which prank show crew is this? Where’s the hidden camera?” Lu Wenxi interrupted the youth one sentence after another, appearing somewhat aggressive.

The youth simply stopped talking. He just looked calmly at Lu Wenxi, knowing this person wasn’t going to let him finish a proper sentence anyway.

Lu Wenxi was also sizing up the youth, getting angrier the more he looked, and started off again, “Look at you, you look decent enough. Are you a new signing from some company, coming to my place to show off your acting skills and leech off my popularity? You look like a proper human being, so why don’t you do some proper work?”

As he spoke, he leaned forward to take a look and noticed an iron chain hanging from the youth’s waist, one end trailing on the floor. It was likely the source of the sound he had heard earlier.

The youth’s expression gradually shifted from polite and humble to somewhat cold. Seemingly displeased by the scrutiny, his thin lips pressed into a straight line. He adjusted his mindset before continuing, “Pindao tracked an evil spirit to this place. The compass shows the evil spirit is likely in your home. May Pindao go in for a moment? I will drive the evil spirit out and leave immediately.”

The youth’s voice wasn’t as icy as his appearance; instead, it was quite gentle and warm, laced primarily with respect. The way he spoke was polite and well-mannered, carrying the refined elegance of a literary scholar.

“Yo, quite deep in character, aren’t we?” Lu Wenxi couldn’t help laughing. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a card. “Alright, I’ll treat you as a Taoist priest. I don’t have any cash in my pockets. Take this card, there should be about fifty or sixty thousand yuan inside. The password is my birthday, you can look it up online in a second. Are you satisfied now?”

The youth looked at Lu Wenxi, not speaking for a long time.

Lu Wenxi stared right back, carefully examining the youth’s eyes, trying to determine if he was wearing colored contacts. The somewhat roguish smile remained plastered on his face.

The youth didn’t take the card. Instead, he pulled a yellow slip of paper from his pocket. Just as he was about to hand it over, Lu Wenxi “understood.” He quickly took the slip, grabbed a Sharpie from the entryway, signed his name with a grand flourish, and handed it back to the youth.

The youth held the autographed talisman, stunned for a moment.

Lu Wenxi, on the other hand, stated very generously, “If you wanted an autograph, you should have just said so earlier. What, do you want a personalized message too? That’s fine, what do you want me to write?”

Holding the talisman, the youth looked at Lu Wenxi again and slightly narrowed his eyes. In that instant, a strange light seemed to flicker in his pupils, suddenly becoming dazzlingly bright.

A moment later, those eyes returned to normal. He sighed and said, “What a pity.”

“Huh?” Lu Wenxi was confused.

“Take this to protect your life. Perhaps it can let you live a few days longer. After the talisman is triggered, I will sense it. If you can hold out long enough, I can still rush over to save you.” After saying that, he handed the talisman back to Lu Wenxi, then turned and walked away.

Lu Wenxi watched the youth leave.

As the youth walked away, he was organizing the chain on his waist. The chain was only as thick as a finger. The youth coiled it up and tied it around his wrist, making it look like a very unique bracelet. Only after the youth turned around did Lu Wenxi notice that he also had a folding fan tucked behind him.

Lu Wenxi couldn’t be certain until he watched the youth enter the emergency stairwell: the youth had actually climbed the stairs to get up here.

This was the 22nd floor.

After closing the door, Lu Wenxi looked at the talisman in his hand, sneered, and casually tossed it onto the entryway cabinet.

He walked into the house, opened his suitcase, and took out an anti-eavesdropping bug detector. He extended the antenna, went back to the front door, opened it, and scanned the hallway. He didn’t pick up anything. The only thing active in the entire corridor was the ceiling security camera. He stood with his hands on his hips, watched for a while, then went back inside.

No listening devices. No pinhole cameras. The youth hadn’t had anywhere on him to hide a camera either.

Could it be that he wasn’t paparazzi, just a strangely dressed sasaeng fan?

But the way the youth looked at him didn’t resemble someone looking at their idol at all.

He stood by the door, lost in thought for a moment, then looked at the talisman on the entryway cabinet again. He picked it up and gave it a look.

The talisman was made of yellow paper with bizarre patterns drawn on it in red pigment. It looked exceptionally cheap. It was just that the signature on the back was a bit of an eyesore.

“He couldn’t really be… a Taoist priest, right?” Lu Wenxi rubbed his earlobe as he walked into the living room, sitting on the sofa, turning the talisman over and over in his hands. “Uh… were the things I just said too hurtful? I didn’t cause the little Taoist any psychological trauma, did I? But even if he is a real Taoist, he’s probably just a little scammer.”

Rather than believing ghosts exist in this world, it would be better to study socialist core values.

As he was feeling puzzled, he suddenly heard the sound of something falling over in the bedroom, which gave him a fright.

Because of the youth’s arrival, compounded by that piercingly cold gust of wind, he truly felt a bit unnerved now. Thinking about it in detail was terrifying, and his scalp couldn’t help but tingle. Hearing a noise in the completely empty bedroom genuinely scared him so much his heartbeat skipped a beat.

He hesitated for a moment, but still took the talisman and tiptoed to the bedroom door. He spent ages mentally preparing himself before pushing the door open.

The moment the door opened, he saw his newly bought robot vacuum bumping around inside, with his selfie tripod lying knocked over next to it.

Lu Wenxi was very narcissistic.

The kind of narcissistic that was famous throughout the industry.

He could hype himself up in front of a mirror all day long, taking thousands of selfies and still feeling that he could never get tired of looking at his own face. Even when fleeing for refuge like this, he hadn’t forgotten to bring his selfie stick and camera.

He walked over, picked up the selfie tripod, and watched the robot vacuum smoothly pass by to continue working. He felt completely ridiculous. He actually believed his house was haunted.

He casually slapped the talisman down onto the robot vacuum, then walked right back out to the living room to continue opening his packages.

About an hour later, his phone suddenly rang.

He had only brought his private phone with him. Not many people knew this number, so it was usually very quiet. Ringing at this moment felt particularly abrupt. He didn’t hesitate; he got straight up, grabbed the phone, and saw it was his good friend Yuan Yefu calling. He immediately answered.

“Lao Yuan, what’s up?” he asked.

“Lu-ge, let’s not stoop to that guy’s level,” Yuan Yefu blurted out directly. He was probably planning to comfort Lu Wenxi, but the result just left Lu Wenxi utterly baffled.

“Stoop to whose level?” Lu Wenxi, completely collapsed on the sofa, asked weakly.

On the other end of the line, Yuan Yefu suddenly realized that Lu Wenxi seemed completely unaware of what had happened, and he blanked out for a second. Lu Wenxi’s manager and assistants were highly professional; if there was news, they definitely knew immediately. If Lu Wenxi was in the dark, it could only mean his entire team was deliberately hiding it from him.

The reason for hiding it was simple: they were afraid Lu Wenxi, with his terrible temper, would cause a scene.

“Ah… nothing, Lu-ge. Where are you? You free to come out for some skewers together?” Yuan Yefu answered with a dry laugh.

“Skewers are fine, but first, tell your bro, who are we not stooping to the level of?”

In a moment of desperation, Yuan Yefu made a snap decision and click—he hung up the phone.

Just pretending this call had never happened.

Lu Wenxi looked at the phone screen and raised an eyebrow, knowing that if he called back, Yuan Yefu would either play dead or play dumb.

He hesitated for a moment, then opened Weibo.