"Xiaojuan, you look strange—what’s going on?"
During the staff lunch break, Xiao Liu noticed Xiaojuan zoning out several times, so distracted that she didn’t even react when a colleague tried talking to her.
"Nothing." Xiaojuan shook her head and set down her chopsticks. "I’m full. I’ll go for a walk."
"Xiaojuan." Brother Hu was outside and waved at her as soon as she stepped out. "Xiaojuan, the player who used puppet mosquitos to assassinate Mr. Chao was eliminated last night."
Three players had been eliminated overnight. The one targeting Chao Musheng was a top-tier player ranked within the top thousand. If Song Cheng hadn’t reacted so strongly this morning, Brother Hu wouldn’t have even realized such a high-level player had been taken out without a sound.
"What taboo did he break?" Xiaojuan was surprised. A player with two S-rank puppet mosquitos was no pushover—how could they be eliminated without any warning?
"No idea." Brother Hu shrugged. "But Song Cheng was scared out of his mind."
"Wait…" Xiaojuan finally realized something was off. "You’re saying all the NPCs forgot this player existed, but Song Cheng still remembers him?"
"Yeah—huh?" Brother Hu froze. "You’re right. Why does Song Cheng remember?"
He’d been too busy messing with Song Cheng earlier to notice the inconsistency.
Someone he’d spoken to had suddenly become invisible to everyone else—wasn’t that straight-up ghost behavior?
No wonder Song Cheng was so shaken. Anyone would lose their mind over something like that.
"Creepy as it is," Brother Hu smirked, rubbing his nose, "a trash NPC like him deserves to be scared witless."
"What the hell is all this junk on you?!" Chairman Song, wheeled into the hospital room by his assistant, tore off his oxygen mask and jabbed a trembling finger at Song Cheng’s bizarre accessories. "Look at yourself, then look at Musheng! How am I supposed to trust you with the company?!"
Song Cheng kept his head down, chest heaving. Though he stayed silent, his resentment was palpable.
"If I’d known you’d embarrass me like this, I never would’ve brought you on the Moonchaser." The trip was meant to introduce him to business elites, not turn him into a laughingstock.
"You just didn’t expect Chao Musheng to be on board, did you? Regretting cutting ties with Second Uncle’s family now that you see I’ll never measure up?" Spoiled all his life, Song Cheng couldn’t stomach the criticism. "Too bad he’s a Chao, not a Song. Hand the company to him, and watch the Song Group turn into the Chao Corporation!"
"You insolent—!" Chairman Song trembled so violently the nurses rushed to hook him up to a heart monitor.
They couldn’t let him die here!
A man his age with a heart rate over 120? The old man was furious.
The secretary glanced at the still-climbing numbers and sighed. "Young Master, the Chairman’s just worried about you. Please, calm down."
Mr. Chao didn’t even seem interested in the Song Group—no need for paranoia.
But if the Chairman dropped dead, the entire company would be in chaos.
"I’m wearing this stuff because I saw a ghost!" Song Cheng glared at his grandfather before recounting his encounters with the thin man. He turned to the secretary, uneasy. "You met him too, right? Do you remember?"
"Uh…" The secretary prided himself on his sharp memory, but he drew a blank. He forced a laugh. "Maybe I wasn’t paying attention."
Chairman Song weakly lifted his oxygen mask and motioned to the medical staff. "Take him away. Drug test him."
"Grandfather, you don’t believe me either?!" Song Cheng struggled as the nurses grabbed him. "I really saw a ghost!"
"Emergency—the Chairman’s passed out again!"
While the hospital room descended into bedlam, Chao Musheng lounged on the balcony with Secretary Liu, soaking up the sun.
"Xiao Chao, your suite’s almost identical to the boss’s." Secretary Liu sipped fresh juice, suddenly less impressed with his own spacious tenth-floor quarters.
"Want to swap for a few days?" Chao Musheng tilted his sunglasses up, grinning.
"Hard pass." Secretary Liu shook his head vigorously. "I like my privacy."
How could he sprawl on the couch with beer and barbecue if the boss was around?
"You’ve been sticking close to the boss lately—is it because of that corporate spy’s warning?" Secretary Liu knew how popular Chao Musheng was with the younger crowd, always mingling effortlessly.
Chao Musheng just smiled.
"The boss has more people scheming against him than a supermarket during a sale. He knows how to handle himself—no need to babysit him." Secretary Liu read his expression and chuckled. "Go have fun. Let the bodyguards worry about security."
"Did Su Chenzhu ask you to tell me that?" Chao Musheng tilted his head.
"He’s asked you multiple times if you’re bored staying in your room, hasn’t he?" Secretary Liu swung his legs. "He didn’t say it outright, but I think he’s worried you’re cooped up too much."
Sure, Chao Musheng was pleasant company, but a twenty-year-old shouldn’t be stuck indoors all day.
He glanced at the young man—talented, considerate, and easy on the eyes. No wonder the boss, who usually stayed out of employees’ lives, had gone out of his way to defend him.
"Ugh." Secretary Liu sighed. "Once this cruise ends, it’s back to paperwork. I wish I could get paid for doing nothing."
Chao Musheng laughed into his juice, pausing when a knock came. Setting the glass down, he went to answer.
"Chaochao." Su Chenzhu’s gaze swept over Chao Musheng’s outfit—shorts, a T-shirt, and sunglasses. A noise from the balcony made his eyes narrow. "Why is Secretary Liu here?"
"Boss." Secretary Liu hurried over. "I finished some documents and dropped by to chat."
"I need you for work. It won’t take long." Su Chenzhu turned back to Chao Musheng. "Secretary Liu can handle it. Go enjoy your afternoon."
"Got it, Mr. Su." Chao Musheng grabbed a sunhat from the closet and grinned. "You’re just like my dad. If I stay home too long, he kicks me out, afraid I’ll turn into a hermit."
"Pfft!" Secretary Liu choked on his juice. "The boss isn’t old enough to have a son your age."
"Heh!" Chao Musheng waved. "Mr. Su, Brother Liu, I’m off."
His uncle hadn’t messaged him in days—time to check in.
After Chao Musheng left, Su Chenzhu studied Secretary Liu’s lingering smile before walking away without a word.
A long time later, long after the two men and their bodyguards had stepped into the elevator, Su Chenzhu suddenly spoke: "Do I look old?"
"Boss, you're in the prime of your life, unmatched in presence—how could you possibly be old?" Secretary Liu replied without hesitation. "In that entire conference room, no one could outshine you."
Another brief silence followed. Just as the elevator doors opened, Su Chenzhu spoke again: "Someone did."
"Absolutely impossible, unless the person speaking had eyes with—"
"Chao Musheng."
"—a different perspective," Secretary Liu smoothly pivoted. "Young Chao is dazzling in a different way from you—it's hard to compare. But if you think he outshines you, then perhaps in his eyes, you’re equally radiant."
Su Chenzhu turned to look at him, as if waiting for him to continue.
"People tend to admire those who possess qualities they lack," Secretary Liu said with a smile. "For example, in my eyes, both you and Young Chao are exceptionally striking."
At this moment, he was the world’s greatest master of diplomacy.
"Hm." Su Chenzhu withdrew his gaze and turned to walk ahead.
What did "hm" mean?
Was he satisfied or dissatisfied with that answer?
"Ancestor, what exactly are you unhappy about?" The agent trailed behind Song Xu. "This luxury brand’s endorsement isn’t easy to secure. The fact that they’re even offering us the title of promotional ambassador is only because of Kunlun’s influence."
Song Xu retorted, "Before that guy got blacklisted, he was their sub-line spokesperson. And now I’m just a promotional ambassador?"
The agent hesitated. He couldn’t exactly say outright that Song Xu wasn’t as good-looking as the other guy.
"Hey." Suddenly, he grabbed Song Xu and pulled him into a corner, lowering his voice. "Isn’t that the eldest Young Master Song? Why is he on the fifth floor?"
In a distant corner, Young Master Song was speaking with a middle-aged man sporting a buzz cut and wearing several beaded bracelets. Young Master Song looked nervous, constantly glancing around, his behavior odd.
The agent took out his phone and discreetly snapped a couple of photos.
"What are you doing?" Song Xu yanked the agent deeper into the corner. "If Song Cheng notices, we’re both finished."
"Never mind what he’s up to—we need to send these photos to Secretary Liu first," the agent said. "You’re an artist signed to Kunlun for ten years. Mr. Chao and Song Cheng don’t get along. If you don’t distance yourself from Song Cheng now, do you really want Mr. Chao to think you’re on his side?"
"Is it that serious?" Song Xu grew uneasy.
"Of course. I heard this morning, President Su kicked Young Master Song in the conference room." The agent forwarded the photos to Secretary Liu. "We don’t need to know what Song Cheng is doing. We just need to make sure Secretary Liu understands we stand with Kunlun."
In those few sentences, the agent had already downgraded the Song family heir from "Young Master Song" to "Song Cheng."
Click. A sound came from behind them. The agent and Song Xu turned to see Shen Ran in his wheelchair.
What’s he doing here?!
Song Xu peeked down the hallway—Song Cheng was still there.
He stopped Shen Ran’s wheelchair, whispering awkwardly, "Don’t go over there. Song Cheng’s around."
Shen Ran’s grip on the wheelchair armrests tightened briefly before loosening. "I’m here to discuss a collaboration with a director. It has nothing to do with him."
A film was set to start shooting in two months, featuring a crucial dance sequence. The director had invited him for a guest appearance, and they’d arranged to meet at the fifth-floor restaurant.
Song Xu glanced at the man and woman accompanying Shen Ran. "Just two people with you? Isn’t that too few?"
He was afraid if Song Cheng went berserk, Shen Ran would suffer again.
"Thank you for the warning." Shen Ran studied Song Xu properly for the first time.
Song Xu was one of Song Cheng’s lackeys, relying on him to access high-end venues and post photos online to craft a wealthy young master persona. When the other lackeys mocked Shen Ran, Song Xu never joined in—but he never stepped in to help either.
"Don’t mention it." Song Xu avoided Shen Ran’s gaze. Before Song Cheng broke Shen Ran’s leg, he hadn’t thought much of him.
Those without power or status had to bow and scrape to climb up. Weren’t they all the same?
He and Shen Ran were both Song Cheng’s dogs—just with different uses.
Only after Song Cheng shattered Shen Ran’s leg did Song Xu realize the depths of his cruelty. What difference was there between a dancer losing his legs and an actor losing his face?
His eyes drifted to the bandages on Shen Ran’s foot. "Your injury… it’s not too serious, right?"
"The doctor said it was treated in time. There won’t be lasting effects." Shen Ran touched his injured leg. "Thank you for your concern."
"That’s good." Song Xu forced a dry laugh. He and Shen Ran had no real connection, and now that Shen Ran had ties to Chao Musheng and Kunlun, Song Xu—who was distantly related to the Song family—felt even more awkward.
"Song Cheng’s gone." The agent had been spying from the corner. Once Song Cheng left with his strings of beads, he turned back to Shen Ran with an ingratiating smile. "Mr. Shen, you can go ahead now."
In the entertainment industry, knowing how to read the room was vital.
"Thank you." Shen Ran wheeled past them toward the elevator. Just as they assumed he’d ignore them, he turned back.
"Mr. Shen, is there something else?" The agent felt cold sweat trickling down his back.
"Once the ship docks, I’ll report to the police—Song Cheng illegally confined and assaulted me," Shen Ran said calmly. "You should prepare yourselves."
The agent sucked in a sharp breath. Only after Shen Ran left did he finally exhale. "Was that a warning for us to stay out of the fallout?"
Song Xu slumped against the wall, his voice strained. "Old Xu… did we take the wrong path?"
His family wasn’t as powerful as the Songs, but they were still well-off.
Shen Ran had no influence, no backing, no fans—yet he dared to defy a behemoth like the Song family.
"People are different," Old Xu consoled him. "Sure, your acting’s subpar, your education’s lacking, and your double eyelids are fake—but at least you pay your taxes and keep your hands to yourself. You’re not the worst. Shen Ran’s a good guy, giving us a heads-up. I’ll contact PR now to distance you from the Songs in the media."
"Maybe he only warned us because of Chao Musheng and Kunlun," Song Xu mused. Though academically weak, he had a knack for reading between the lines. "Chao Musheng is Kunlun’s assistant president, and I’m a Kunlun artist. He probably said something out of courtesy."
"Round it off, and it’s like we’ve got Mr. Chao’s backing. And having Mr. Chao’s backing means having the big boss’s favor." Old Xu patted his own shoulder. "Come on, let’s go pitch you for a major project."
After circling the sixth floor without finding Chief Officer Chao or Shen Ran, Chao Musheng spotted performers on the fifth-floor stage. Too lazy to wait for the elevator, he took the stairs with his bodyguards.
After finally shaking off the bodyguards surveilling him, Song Cheng secretly contacted a "master" to purchase an evil-warding bead. Too afraid of being discovered, he only dared to take the stairs—and that was how he ended up bumping into Chao Musheng at a stairwell landing.
Chao Musheng looked at Song Cheng. It had only been a few hours, yet the man was now adorned with even more religious-themed merchandise.
Song Cheng, in turn, eyed Chao Musheng warily, hiding the evil-warding bead behind his back before turning to head downstairs—only to find the bodyguards he thought he’d lost standing at the stairwell entrance, watching him expressionlessly.
The carpeted stairs muffled all footsteps.
As Chao Musheng approached step by step, Song Cheng felt his old injuries begin to ache faintly.
Without a single word from Chao Musheng, Song Cheng’s courage already wavered.
“You had so much to say in the meeting room this morning,” Chao Musheng closed the distance between them. “Why so quiet now?”
Snap.
The newly purchased evil-warding bead broke under Song Cheng’s nervous grip, scattering soundlessly onto the carpet. The beads didn’t even bounce—they simply landed where they fell and stayed there.
“Was all of this just to get back at me?” Song Cheng’s expression twisted. “So what if your parents were happy together? Nothing from the Song family has anything to do with you.”
“Last month, my mother was maliciously attacked by fans. You were the one who paid those gossip accounts to fuel the rumors, weren’t you?” Chao Musheng stared at him. “Honestly, if I hadn’t run into you on this ship, I’d hardly ever think about you.”
“You look down on me?” Song Cheng gritted his teeth. “What gives you the right?”
“Maybe because my moral standards are higher than yours?” Chao Musheng raised an eyebrow.
“You’re just some country woman’s—”
Thud!
Chao Musheng grabbed the strings of beads around Song Cheng’s neck and slammed him onto the ground, then proceeded to beat him without restraint.
“Stop! Stop hitting me!”
The pain was unbearable. Song Cheng curled into a ball, begging for mercy. “I won’t talk about your mother again, just stop!”
“I beat you up on the first day we boarded this ship. Now, with the entire stairwell filled with my people, did you really think I’d hold back?” Chao Musheng gripped Song Cheng’s throat. “What’s wrong with the countryside? Our Chaojiawan Village has clear waters and green mountains, filled with decent, principled people—unlike you, rotten to the core.”
Cough! Cough!
When Chao Musheng finally released him, Song Cheng clutched his throat, hacking violently. This time, he didn’t dare say another word.
“A piece of trash like you? Anyone can look down on you.” Chao Musheng glanced at the tangled mess of beads on him. “Then again, maybe not. Maybe ghosts would take a liking to you. Someone as twisted as you probably attracts twisted spirits.”
Whoosh.
A sudden cold draft swept through the stairwell. Song Cheng shivered, clutching one of the fallen evil-warding beads tightly in his palm.
Ghosts… there really were ghosts.
Seeing his terrified expression, Chao Musheng scoffed.
Brave enough to treat people like dirt, but too cowardly to face a ghost.
What a pathetic, worthless piece of filth.
As Chao Musheng stepped out of the stairwell, he noticed three service staff standing in a corner, heads bowed, not daring to look at him.
He glanced back at Song Cheng, still sprawled on the ground, then smiled at the staff. Their heads sank even lower.
“Mr. Song.” Once Chao Musheng left, the four bodyguards assigned to monitor Song Cheng surrounded him. “The floor is cold. If you’re tired, remember to return to your room to sleep.”
Clutching his swollen face, Song Cheng pulled himself up using the railing and couldn’t help but mutter, “You’re Chairman Su’s bodyguards. Why are you listening to Chao Musheng?”
The bodyguards remained silent.
Another icy gust swept through the stairwell. Song Cheng looked up—was that a girl in a school uniform floating past him?
Clatter.
The beads and charms hanging from his body suddenly fell off, as if reacting to something unseen.
There really was a ghost here!
Trembling, Song Cheng staggered out of the stairwell, adrenaline surging as he turned and bolted.
“Huh?” Chao Musheng watched Song Cheng sprint past him like a gust of wind, momentarily doubting his own ability to throw a punch.
He’s resilient. Full of energy. Runs fast. Next time, I’ll hit him harder.
Meanwhile, three players stationed outside the stairwell entrance finally dared to breathe after everyone had left.
One of them cautiously picked up a bead that had rolled to the doorway, checking if the system would accept it for trade.
[Ding. Useless glass bead. Cannot be traded.]
Disgusted, the player tossed it into the trash. So much for the rumors on the player forums about scavenging in dungeons.
“What’s the deal with those two just now?” They were responsible for cleaning floors five through nine, and now the stairwell was littered with scattered beads. Sighing, they bent down to pick them up one by one.
“No idea, but that guy who got beaten up is tough. Howling in pain one second, sprinting away the next.” Another player reached for a few beads hidden under the carpet, then suddenly felt a chill down his spine. He turned—nothing there.
Weird. The locals said this cruise ship has no horror stories tied to the stairs, so why does it feel so eerie?
Compared to the tense atmosphere on the fifteenth floor, the fifth floor was a dazzling sea of impeccably dressed men and women.
Chao Musheng hadn’t taken ten steps before five people approached him. Directors seeking investors, in particular, couldn’t hide their excitement at the sight of a young man trailed by four bodyguards.
Someone who travels with private security? Definitely a wealthy young master.
Lian Hai was enjoying himself with friends when he noticed the crowd’s attention shifting toward one spot. Following their gazes, he brightened.
“Mr. Chao!” Recognizing the newcomer, he immediately stood and greeted him warmly. “You came down alone?”
“Lian Hai?” Chao Musheng smiled. “Just wandering around.”
“If you don’t mind, join us!” Thrilled that Chao Musheng remembered him, Lian Hai beamed.
“Then I’ll trouble you.” Following Lian Hai to the table, Chao Musheng noticed several familiar celebrities among the group.
“Call me Da Hai,” Lian Hai introduced him to his friends. “This is Mr. Chao, my honored guest.”
“Mr. Chao.” Some recognized him; others didn’t. But Lian Hai’s deference made it clear—this was someone not to be crossed.
Eager to please, the group ensured Chao Musheng felt nothing but welcome.
“Whoa!”
When Chao Musheng rolled six dice, all landing on six, the forced flattery turned into genuine awe. “Brother Chao, how’d you do that?”
“Just luck.” He handed the dice cup to a quiet actress sitting in the corner. “Want to try?”
“Th-Thank you, Mr. Chao.” She was stunned by the unexpected attention.
“No need.” He smiled. “I remember last month, when TimeLight Magazine had to replace their cover model last minute—you stepped in to save the issue.”
Lu Qian blinked in surprise. Early in her career, she’d owed the magazine’s editor a favor. That was why, despite the backlash risk, she’d agreed to the emergency shoot.
Moreover, this favor wasn’t done for free—afterward, the editor-in-chief of Time Light helped her connect with a certain luxury brand.
This kind of small-scale exchange of favors and mutual benefit was commonplace in the industry, but she hadn’t expected Mr. Chao to know about it.
"Brother Chao, are you interested in the entertainment industry too?" Lian Hai’s address for Chao Musheng had already shifted from "Mr. Chao" to "Brother Chao." "Time Light is hosting a fashion event this month—want to go together?"
"Someone in my family works in a field related to the entertainment industry, so I occasionally pay attention to it," Chao Musheng replied, shaking his head. "But I never participate in entertainment-related events."
"So what do you usually do at home for fun?" Lian Hai picked up the dice cup, shaking it for a while but failing to replicate Chao Musheng’s earlier trick.
"Reading, sleeping in, playing on the computer." Chao Musheng placed his hand over Lian Hai’s, guiding the dice cup. "Follow the rhythm of my hand."
Clatter, clatter. After a few shakes, Chao Musheng let go. "Try opening it now."
Lian Hai carefully lifted the lid—six dice stood stacked in a neat column, the top one showing a six.
He removed the top die, revealing another six underneath.
"Brother Chao, you’re amazing!" Lian Hai gave him a thumbs-up.
"Easy, easy." Chao Musheng grinned, basking in the admiring gazes from everyone at the table. He shook the dice again, producing another perfect stack of sixes, then took out his phone to snap a photo for his social media.
[Chao Chao Mu Mu: Just the basics.]
The comments section flooded with likes and playful teasing.
[Fourth Brother showing off again.]
[This is the good life on a cruise ship?]
[Brother Chao, where are you having fun?]
[Very impressive.]
The comment "Very impressive" was left by "Su."
Chao Musheng stared at the comment, inexplicably picturing Su Chenzhu’s face in his mind.
The way Mr. Su praised people always sounded like this—serious, yet with a hint of indulgent warmth, like an elder’s approval.
He tapped into the executive office group chat. Mr. Su’s profile picture was the system-default gray square, clearly never changed since the account was created.
This kind of no-nonsense style suited Mr. Su’s personality perfectly.
"Young Master Lian." A plump director approached, wine glass in hand, his gaze flickering toward Chao Musheng. "Your taste is impeccable—to actually—"
"This is my Brother Chao," Lian Hai cut in, sensing the director’s misunderstanding and breaking out in a cold sweat. "This is a private gathering today. Let’s not discuss investments."
"Mr. Chao, hello, hello!" The director immediately corrected himself, bowing repeatedly with his glass before slinking away to a corner.
"Can’t blame people in the industry for misunderstanding—you’re just too good-looking, Brother Chao." Lian Hai lightened the mood with a joke. "Sitting next to you, the rest of us look like a bunch of misfits."
The celebrities at the table chimed in with agreement.
"If Mr. Chao entered the entertainment industry, the rest of us would be out of jobs."
"Exactly. If he debuted today, my fans would abandon me tomorrow."
Amid the laughter, the room suddenly fell silent.
Chao Musheng turned and caught a glint of silver—light reflecting off a pair of glasses.
Why is Mr. Su here?
Su Chenzhu scanned the room, his gaze finally settling on their table.
The artists didn’t recognize him, but an instinctive unease prickled through them. Which VIP from the upper floors has descended upon us?
"Chao Chao." Su Chenzhu stopped beside the table, glancing at the men and women surrounding Chao Musheng. "The bodyguards said you were on the fifth floor. I came to check on you."
Clatter.
The carefully stacked dice toppled over.
"Mr. Su." Chao Musheng began picking up the scattered dice one by one. "Lian Hai, let’s play another time. I’ll take my leave first."
"No need. I just came to see how you were doing." Su Chenzhu’s tone was gentle. "As long as you’re enjoying yourself."
"Ah—ghost!!"
A scream rang out from the hallway—Song Cheng’s voice.
Chao Musheng’s eyes instantly lit up, and he craned his neck to look toward the door.
