"And then what happened?" Bai Roushuang pressed.
Song Ping smiled. "After that, we discussed the contract. Her current company is holding her back, and she’s had some conflicts with her agent. From a businessman’s perspective, she’s a highly promising artist—signing her would be nothing but beneficial."
"...Is that all you talked about? Did you two end up together or not?"
Song Ping chuckled without answering.
"Fine, I won’t ask anymore," Bai Roushuang gave him a hug. "No matter what, I just want you to be happy."
Song Ping patted her back. "I know. I will be."
———
The original screenwriter still lingered around the set. After all, his contract was signed, and his salary had been paid. Occasionally, he’d polish Bai Roushuang’s script, embellish the prose, or add some scenic descriptions to give the set designers more work.
Sometimes, he’d stubbornly try to persuade Bai Roushuang to revise the script. At first, the screenwriter had assumed Bai Roushuang was easygoing based on her gentle appearance, but after countless rejections, he finally learned that appearances could be deceiving—she was utterly unyielding, whether he coaxed her politely or tried pulling rank as a senior.
Occasionally, he’d nitpick on purpose, complaining that the plot was a mess—how Xu Shulou had finally ascended to immortality, only to return to the mortal world. He insisted the original novel was better, with its clear storyline about Lu Beichen’s rise to power and success.
Bai Roushuang would just smile. "The heart of the series was never about ascension or power. It’s about the people Xu Shulou meets along the way—the kind and the cruel, the extraordinary and the ordinary—and all the experiences she has, whether joyful, regretful, wondrous, or mundane. These people and events make up the entire cultivation world."
"......"
At first, Bai Roushuang humored his criticisms with polite explanations. But once she moved past the cautious phase, she stopped negotiating and instead aimed to shut him down with a single remark.
Finally, one afternoon, the screenwriter stormed off in a rage.
It took about half a month before the Director belatedly noticed his absence. "Where’s the screenwriter?" he asked Bai Roushuang.
"He left," she replied casually.
"What?" The Director paled, quickly pulling her aside and glancing around warily, as if fearing an undiscovered recording device on set. He mimed a throat-slitting gesture and whispered, "Did you… you know?"
Bai Roushuang paused, choosing her words carefully. "Has my senior sister… left you with some kind of trauma?"
"...What?"
"The screenwriter literally left the set," Bai Roushuang enunciated. "Alive. On his own two feet."
The Director, embarrassed by the misunderstanding, sighed in relief. "Oh, good. That’s good."
"......"
After months together, the crew seemed to have their tolerance raised by Xu Shulou. During a scene where an actress playing a Qingniao (Azure Bird) tribeswoman was supposed to descend from the sky, the wire malfunctioned, nearly sending her crashing down. Xu Shulou leaped into action, catching her midair and spinning gracefully to the ground. The crew rushed to comfort the actress and inspect the equipment, but no one found Xu Shulou’s feat particularly shocking—by now, they’d accepted her as some kind of martial arts master.
Only the Qingniao actress blushed, peering through the crowd to catch a glimpse of Xu Shulou, only to find the hero slipping away through a side door—casually swiping a snack from the craft services table on her way out.
Noticing Xu Shulou had chosen a cup of hot chocolate from the drink selection, the actress began bringing her a cup from the most famous local café every day. Xu Shulou accepted them cheerfully, never tiring of the treat.
As for Bai Roushuang… she’d long since gotten used to it.
During the scene where Sheng Wuyou’s character died, Song Ping watched with a complicated expression. After filming wrapped, Sheng Wuyou walked over and took his hand. Bai Roushuang couldn’t tell if this meant they were together now—or if it was just her understanding his grief in that moment and offering comfort.
Bai Roushuang tugged at her hair, agonizing over it. Were they together or not? Did her reincarnation still count as her? But the two involved seemed far more at ease than she was, having already talked things through.
She could only console herself: Souls that are drawn to each other will always find their way.
After the show became a hit, fans started visiting the set to meet Xu Shulou and Bai Roushuang. When shaking hands, Bai Roushuang’s old sect leader habits kicked in—she instinctively checked each fan’s palm for spiritual energy, testing if they had the potential to cultivate. After finishing with her own fans, she even tried moving on to Xu Shulou’s and the other actors’. Eventually, Xu Shulou had to drag her away.
Filming naturally progressed faster than the show’s release. By the time the series reached its midpoint on streaming platforms, the crew was already wrapping up production.
For the final shot, the Director waited several days for the perfect sunset to capture Xu Shulou’s glance back over her shoulder at the end of a long street.
The set was meticulously designed, with extras bustling about as townspeople and vendors.
Xu Shulou wore an exquisite brocade robe with a jade belt, shimmering gloriously in the sunset—the same outfit gifted to her by the Master of Taixu Realm after she rescued people from a painting. Holding a jade fan and a few bags of candied fruit, she strolled leisurely down the street. Hearing her junior sister’s voice, she paused, turning back with a smile.
This scene didn’t require her to rely on memories for an immersive performance. Facing the mortal world, she could always smile like this—genuinely, from the heart.
The Director zoomed in, her radiant grin filling the screen, spreading an inexplicable joy through the crew, as if basking in the same sunset with her was reason enough to be happy.
Then the camera pulled back—first framing Xu Shulou fully, then Bai Roushuang chasing after her, then further to the townsfolk coming and going along the street. Finally, it reached the end of the road, capturing the entire scene: willow-shaded homes, chimneys puffing smoke. The screen faded to black.
The End.
The crew rose to their feet, applauding.
Even if the audience never knew these events had truly happened, at least these characters and their story had briefly illuminated their lives for months. That was enough for Bai Roushuang.
From summer to autumn, winter approached again. Xu Shulou had enjoyed her time here, but now that Path to Immortality had wrapped, the crew—having spent months together—parted with reluctance.
Xu Shulou bid farewell to each person individually. As she stepped outside, she found Bai Roushuang waiting for her on the set’s prop swing, gently swaying.
"Senior sister, where to next?"
"Do you remember that ‘Mirage Tower’ I bought for fifty thousand spirit stones all those years ago?"
"Remember that floating palace in the sky? Back at the Ten Thousand Insect Cavern, you stayed inside the Mirage Tower while I held the ropes below," Bai Roushuang smiled. "Such a lovely memory."
"I asked the divine realm for help and transformed that Mirage Tower into a starship. Now it can drift through the cosmos. Want to see it?"
"Of course!" Bai Roushuang cheered, eagerly following along.
Xu Shulou turned to Song Ping. "Coming with us?"
Song Ping shook his head. "I still have some matters to attend to here. I’ll pass for now."
"Alright. If I come across any alien recipes for roast chicken, I’ll bring them back for you!" Xu Shulou patted his shoulder, knowing he stayed behind for Sheng Wuyou. She added softly, "Take care of Wuyou—and yourself."
Bai Roushuang, half-hidden inside the Mirage Tower, peeked out and chimed in, "And take care of Dustless Island for me too!"
"..." Song Ping’s touched expression froze mid-moment before he chuckled. "As you command, Sect Leader."
Bai Roushuang waved goodbye to her senior brother. As Song Ping watched Xu Shulou gradually fade into the distance, he suddenly called out, "Senior Sister, will you return to the mortal world?"
"Of course!" Xu Shulou turned back, waving. "I’ll be back in a few months. I still need to ride roller coasters and Ferris wheels at the amusement park!"
"..." Song Ping smiled, his gaze lingering until her figure vanished from sight.
———
Two months later, Path to Immortality finally aired its grand finale. The drama achieved success beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. At the celebratory banquet, however, neither the lead actress Xu Shulou nor the screenwriter Bai Roushuang showed up. Song Ping did attend, arriving with Sheng Wuyou.
The Producer approached him. "Why are you sitting here alone? Everyone inside is waiting to toast you."
"Just thinking."
"About what?"
"Xu Shoulou and the others."
"Thinking about them?" The Producer laughed. "Why?"
"On the day filming wrapped, before Bai Roushuang left, I told her the show’s success owed much to her brilliance as the writer."
"Absolutely," the Producer agreed offhandedly. Who would’ve thought that when they went searching for their missing action director, they’d stumble upon a girl with shockingly bad acting skills—only to spark a ratings phenomenon?
"I told her she could ask for anything as my personal thanks," the Director said, swirling his wine bottle. "She said she had just one request: at the end of the final episode, after the sunset street scene, to add a subtitle—Based on true events."
"Huh?" The Producer muttered inwardly, Has this girl’s chuunibyou syndrome gotten this severe?
"Xu Shulou, Song Ping, Bai Roushuang… these names," the Director looked at the Producer. "Don’t you get it?"
The Producer found it amusing. "Are you implying they’re the actual people from the story? How?"
"Why not?" the Director countered.
"If such people truly existed in the past, how could we have never heard of them?"
"Maybe we have read about them—only to dismiss them as characters from some fantastical tale, laughing it off."
"..." The Producer paused, as if struck by a thought. For once, he didn’t immediately argue. Lost in contemplation, he fell silent. The two sat wordlessly across from each other, sharing a drink.
The splendor of bygone eras lay buried beneath history, leaving only a handful who had glimpsed the truth to endlessly savor the wonder and awe of those encounters.
And Xu Shulou? She had already embarked on a new journey.
