"Senior, I made a decision on my own—I wish to return to Qingyun Sect tomorrow."
After Lu Changtian left, Li Qingran returned to the hut and bowed toward the roof, dropping to her knees and not getting up.
"It's not that I'm a stubborn fool, nor do I still hold affection for Qingyun Sect or Chixiao Peak. But they've become shackles on my cultivation path. I must sever them with my own hands if I am to continue forward and not disappoint you, Senior."
She bowed her head, every word sincere.
She knew Qingyun Sect was a dragon's den, yet she had to enter.
She also knew that from the senior's perspective, he likely wouldn't want her to return—such an action might even stir suspicion.
She had already received too much kindness; if she now returned to her former sect, wouldn't that make her a thankless traitor?
So she waited—waited for his answer.
If he told her to go, she would.
If he told her not to, she would stay.
Chen Huaian thought for a moment, then pressed the transmission talisman and said,
"It's okay. Only the one who tied the knot can untie it. Since this started at Chixiao Peak, it should end there too. Handle it your way. I believe in you."
Inside the hut, Li Qingran waited a moment before she heard his ethereal voice:
[Joy turns to sorrow, and fullness gives way to emptiness—such is the balance of fate. Every sip and every bite is preordained. All has cause and consequence, and must be borne. Go, then!]
Li Qingran pondered over "Chen Huaian's" words, her heart shaken.
She bowed deeply once more, and the hesitation in her eyes vanished, replaced with resolute clarity.
"This junior, Qingran, thanks Senior for dispelling my doubts!"
[Before you go, I will bestow you with something.]
Whoosh—!
A flying sword appeared on the table, its scabbard moon-white, and its tassel the color of blood.
[This sword is named Su Xian. A top-tier magic weapon flying sword. I saw that your original sword has broken—take this one for your protection!]
Li Qingran held the sword in her hands. Her heart softened once more—touched beyond words.
She wiped away the tears in the corners of her eyes, hugged the sword to her chest, and bowed deeply again.
"Qingran will not disappoint you, Senior!"
---
[Hello, is this Mr. Chen?]
"Speaking."
"We're calling to invite you to participate in a variety show. Would you be interested—"
"What kind of scam is this?" Chen Huaian frowned and immediately hung up.
He had more pressing things to worry about—like how to help Li Qingran survive tomorrow's ordeal. He was broke again, and this game loved to hit him with forced top-ups. He didn't have time to mess with scammers.
In the past, he might've spent an hour debating life philosophy with them.
The phone rang again.
Chen Huaian glanced at the caller ID and sneered before answering.
"Alright then. I tried to be merciful, but if you insist on running into the blade, don't blame me for going full con man mode!"
"Mr. Chen, please don't hang up! We're not scammers. This is a legitimate call from the outdoor variety show The Great Celebrity Adventure. Our team saw your vlog about the Mount Tai challenge—our director is very interested and would like to invite you as a guest. Our show has many top stars and streams on Mango TV with great ratings. If you join, it'll help grow your livestream fanbase. It's a win-win!"
Chen Huaian's eyes narrowed.
He pulled out the hotel computer and Googled the show—sure enough, it was real and even somewhat popular.
The show's concept involved sending celebrities on extreme outdoor adventures—climbing, diving, bungee jumping, wilderness survival, and so on. Great for building star personas… or revealing the pampered ones.
But why invite him? He wasn't a celebrity.
Still puzzled, he opened his livestream dashboard—
and was stunned.
That casually edited vlog had over 100 million views, with over 7 million likes, and a comment section so flooded it wouldn't even refresh.
"Holy crap… I'm famous?"
He stared at his now 270,000 followers and finally muttered in awe:
"This… is the power of the internet."
He sighed.
Fate works in strange ways.
No wonder so many college grads just want to be influencers now.
Working for someone else is a dead-end. Being your own brand at least gives you hope.
Plus, content creation spans so many areas—you could even turn your passion into a livelihood.
One of the most-viewed tags on his vlog was "Mount Tai Mirage", which was still trending.
Experts had "explained" it: apparently a film crew in Shanghai was shooting a fantasy series and bizarre optical refraction had projected the scene onto Mount Tai.
To back this, the media even pulled out a crew claiming to be filming Seal of the Heavenly Emperor.
But just one glance, and Chen Huaian could tell it was a hastily assembled group.
Yes, they had an actor in black robes playing the emperor, but the aura was all wrong.
They were mud eels trying to impersonate a dragon.
Other trending topics included anti-cancer advocacy and encouragement to cherish life.
And his content? No clickbait, no sob stories, no fundraising—just one man stubbornly fighting against fate.
That was why it went viral.
Compared to all the oversaturated content about illness and hardship—often exploited by scammers—his vlog was a breath of fresh air.
The platform pushed him, and he skyrocketed.
And that's what the variety show wanted: to ride the wave.
"Win-win, my ass. They're just trying to leech off my traffic for free."
Capitalists really do have black hearts.
"I'm not interested in reality shows," he said flatly.
"I just want to live out the rest of my time peacefully."
But the caller wasn't surprised.
"Mr. Chen, if you had a chance to treat your illness, would you take it? As long as you join the show, we'll pay you 500,000 yuan as an appearance fee."
"How much?!"
Chen Huaian's eyes turned into golden eggs.
"500,000 yuan—buyout fee for the whole season. We're filming three episodes. Whether or not you appear in all of them, the moment you sign the contract, the money goes into your account."
Chen Huaian calmed down.
500,000 yuan—that's second- or third-tier celebrity money.
Clearly, the producers were serious about using him for attention.
Some new artists had to pay to get on shows—he was being paid to join.
"Well, Mr. Chen? What do you think?"
Chen Huaian had always believed in win-wins.
He grinned broadly:
"Sounds good. So what's the show plan for this episode?"
"Hiking Tianmen Mountain. There will be a pro mountaineer accompanying you. Alongside you, we've invited five celebrities of varying fame. You'll be our secret guest. If you're in, add me on WeChat and I'll send over the e-contract."
"I'm in. Love the 'secret' angle. Heh heh."
He ended the call with a sinister grin. A perfect deal.
Looking back at the game screen, he saw Li Qingran calmly meditating.
A mix of emotions stirred in his chest.
Sure, he'd spent a ton of money in this game—it looked reckless from the outside.
But without this game, without that illusion of purpose, he'd never have gained this chance, this half-million hope.
A Mount Tai miracle alone wouldn't have made him go viral.
A late-stage cancer patient climbing Mount Tai was moving, but not explosive.
Only when both stories merged, and he literally broke his leg, did the virality truly ignite.
And now, a variety show wanted to pay him handsomely.
Causality… truly wondrous.
He signed the e-contract, submitted his bank info, and watched as the ¥500,000 hit his account.
For the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of hope.
Who wants to die if they can live?
Ten grand was nothing against cancer.
But 500,000? That was a chance.
Without hesitation, he put on clothes, called a cab, and rushed to the hospital he'd previously visited.
The attending physician performed a routine biopsy.
In the exam room, both doctor and patient stared silently at the X-ray.
"You really just climbed Mount Tai and broke your leg?"
The doctor turned, frowning deeply.
"Yeah… nothing else."
Chen Huaian's stomach sank at the look on his face.
The doctor sighed.
"This is the first case I've ever seen like this." He pointed at the screen.
"In under a month, your cancer has spread from your leg and pancreas to your whole body—even your brain now shows tumors. That kind of spread speed is unheard of.
"Cancer needs nutrients to grow. It's like your cancer cells suddenly received a massive feast and exploded in growth. It's something I've never seen before."
Chen Huaian stared.
"…So you're saying, I'm still screwed?"
The doctor gave him a complicated look and sighed again.
"Kid, didn't you say you made 500,000? Then use your remaining time well. As long as you don't break the law, go do what makes you happy. Really—live every day with joy…"