Leah King stared at Basil Bertram in terror. With a sharp clatter, the microphone slipped from her hand and hit the ground. The situation had spiraled out of control—there was no way the concert could go on now.
The sudden appearance of ghosts in the square threw everyone into chaos. The staff fled the scene, but the Ghost Burial Squad quickly intervened to contain the outbreak. On Chief Stone’s orders, the squad caught the escaping staff and dragged them to the parking lot behind the venue.
Meanwhile, the ghosts—over two hundred of them—were shouting with excitement, their eyes fixed on the stage and Leah King. None of them seemed to realize they were already dead.
“Uh-oh, something’s not right here.”
A hearty voice called out. I turned to see Peter Yao, the chubby member of Hades Circle and Rachel Lan’s supervisor, panting as he hurried over.
I glanced at Yvonne May beside me. She stared blankly at the ghosts, caught up in their excitement and shouts.
“I’ve witnessed scenes like this countless times. These ghosts—they’re pitiful, hateful, lamentable, and tragic.”
Listening to Yvonne May, I nodded. Peter Yao bustled over to my side, visibly agitated.
“Brother Qingyuan, please deal with this quickly! Otherwise, things could get out of hand. Our people have been stuck on the outskirts, struggling to hold the line. It’s been miserable. Without permission from your esteemed companion, none of us dare act rashly.”
“What do their lives and deaths have to do with me?” Yvonne May turned her head and spoke slowly. Peter Yao nodded and bowed, smiling obsequiously.
“What’s going on?”
“Oh, I almost forgot—you’re not familiar with this, Ethan Zhang. Do you know why, in Hades Circle, whenever someone dies, we rush to the scene and make sure the soul reports to the Gate of Ghosts right away?”
I shook my head. Honestly, I’d never thought about it that way.
“It’s to prevent the accumulation of Yin Qi. As you probably know, Ethan Zhang, when Yin Qi gathers, it can harm ordinary people. Whenever someone dies somewhere, that place gets shrouded in Yin Qi. If the ghost refuses to leave, the earth’s energy is blocked, and the Yin Qi keeps building up.”
“So if we don’t clear out these ghosts, something bad could happen here?”
“It’s not that simple, Ethan Zhang. If the earth’s veins get blocked by Yin Qi and can’t flow, it affects all kinds of things in our world. Fate itself is at stake. Do you know what’s happened around here since all these ghosts appeared?”
I listened with interest as Peter Yao explained. Since the ghosts appeared near the square, there have been more than thirty unusual traffic accidents, and over a dozen shops have mysteriously lost all business in the past few months, eventually shutting down for good.
“How is that possible?”
“Heh, Ethan Zhang, it might sound unbelievable, but if you brought in a feng shui expert, you’d see—the energy here is stagnant, like dead water. Haven’t you noticed how deserted this place is? Even before all this.”
Now that Peter Yao mentioned it, I realized we’d visited twice before, and both times, there were hardly any people around. Even the shops—most of them were closed.
“One or two ghosts wouldn’t cause so much trouble, but look, Ethan Zhang—there are more than two hundred ghosts here! Thankfully, some of them spend part of their time at the Soul Guest Inn.”
I looked over. Leah King was clutching her head, her legs giving out beneath her as she slumped to the ground, too terrified to open her eyes. Basil Bertram stood quietly by her side, keeping watch.
“Miss Leah King, please stand up. Your fans are still waiting for you.” Basil Bertram spoke gently. It was the first time I’d seen such tenderness in his expression. He crouched beside Leah King, reaching out as if to place a hand on her head.
He hesitated. I watched as Basil Bertram pulled his hand back, as if something held him back from saying more.
Leah King remained on the ground, clutching her head in silence, her whole body trembling.
“Think about it. Before you succeeded, how did you get through those hard days? It was tough, but you made it. You pushed forward and became a star admired by thousands, didn’t you? Let them see you now. You’ve only stumbled—just get back up. Stand up… just stand up.”
Basil Bertram spoke softly. Little by little, Leah King loosened her grip, staring blankly at him.
“You… who are you, really…?”
Basil Bertram stood up and smiled gently.
“I’m nothing more than a devoted fan of yours. I’ve admired you since the day you debuted. Look at them—they’re all your fans, just like me. All they want is to see you shine. If you do, their hearts will be filled with joy. Go on, take a good look at them.”
Fear still lingered on Leah King’s face, but her trembling gradually subsided. Basil Bertram picked up the microphone and handed it to her.
But now, there was a new problem—the musicians and staff had all left. Just as I was wondering what to do, I suddenly saw Easton Grant coming out from behind the stage, leading a group of people and ghosts.
Under Easton Grant’s direction, both humans and ghosts got to work. I recognized two people and two ghosts from Exile Town who had played with Easton before. Surprised, I hurried over to the edge of the stage.
“Why are you here?”
Easton Grant smiled and turned to Basil Bertram.
“This gentleman asked me to help.”
Basil Bertram smiled faintly.
“All right, it’s time. You can do this. Share the most beautiful voice in your heart with everyone.”
The neon lights began to flicker, and rhythmic music slowly filled the air, melodious and clear. Leah King stood woodenly on stage, clutching the microphone tightly.
After Basil Bertram stepped off the stage, we stood to the side. The ghosts in the crowd erupted in cheers. As the intro music built, I saw Leah King's blank expression fade away.
Bit by bit, Leah King straightened up.
“Please listen to the first song—‘Tonight, With You By My Side.’”
Her voice returned to normal, and the song began—beautiful and moving, her vocals lively and pure. The people Easton Grant had brought all threw themselves into the performance.
The lyrics seemed to reach straight into the heart. Every note danced and leapt with joy. This was Leah King—I stared at her, amazed, as she grew more at ease on stage, her presence stronger with each moment.
Her singing seemed to melt away all worries. I found myself lost in her voice, and I finally understood why so many people loved this star. Watching her on stage—she was genuine, she was happy.
In contrast, the Leah King I’d seen in real life—surrounded by scandals, quick-tempered—wasn’t her true self at all.
Instead, the Leah King now, completely immersed in her own world, dancing to her own song, was the real her. Just twenty-five years old, she’d already won so many awards. I didn’t know how much she’d sacrificed, but in this moment, she was at her best.
Basil Bertram turned and began to walk away. I called out to him.
“Are you leaving?”
Basil Bertram just smiled.
“Yes.”
I walked over and grabbed his arm.
“Please stay until the end.”
Minute by minute, the concert went on. Leah King gave it her all on stage, while the ghosts below gradually faded away. As the music played, happiness spread across their faces before they vanished.
When the last song ended, the ghosts beneath the stage were gone. Leah King, drenched in sweat, was left panting.
“Thank you, everyone. Tonight’s concert is…”
With a thud, Leah King collapsed, fainting on stage.
In a rush, Basil Bertram flew past me and caught Leah King as she fell. I hurried over to them.
Though unconscious, Leah King wore a smile on her face.
“So heavy. Really, so heavy…”
Basil Bertram said this with sorrow, then handed Leah King to me. I reached out and took her in my arms.
“Aren’t you going to say anything to her?”
Basil Bertram smiled faintly and shook his head.
“I’ve said all I needed to say. In this life, I only hope she can live well from now on. That’s enough.”
With that, Basil Bertram floated into the air, drifting away. I called out loudly after him.
“If you have time, come listen to her concert again, watch her perform.”
“I will. After all, I’m her devoted fan!”
The next day, the news was filled with all sorts of claims, accusing Leah King of deception. No device had recorded the phenomenal concert. Leah King simply smiled at the media, said nothing, and left the press conference under security escort.
“Ah, Ethan Zhang, that girl…what a shame.” Chief Stone murmured, smoking quietly, then smiled.
I watched in silence as Leah King got into the car. The engine started, and she slowly disappeared from sight.
“It’s all right. She’ll be fine. Like Basil Bertram said, she’s only stumbled. When she gets back up, everything will be all right.”