Chapter 76: The New Drama Premieres
Yan Qichen finally faced his moment of reckoning.
Lu Xu speculated that Yan Qichen must be an even bigger failure as a person than Gu Sinian or Zhang Che. When news broke about his diva behavior—rewriting scripts, b*llying extras—none of his peers came to his defense. The production teams he had worked with were conspicuously silent, as quiet as a chicken coop. Not a single voice spoke up for him.
In moments like these, silence itself was a statement.
And when someone did speak, it was always in support of Shao Yao.
Shao Yao, who had been b*llied so cruelly by Yan Qichen, never held a grudge. He simply bought a jar of night cream and moved on with his life.
But Yan Qichen? The perpetrator of the abuse? He worked tirelessly to disguise himself as the victim.
In the entertainment industry, such behavior was the most despised. Fans might blindly admire the characters an actor plays, but they would never condone the way Yan Qichen treated Shao Yao.
Yan Qichen had already isolated Shao Yao once during the filming of Song of Southern Country. By accusing Shao Yao of oppressing him again, he was, in essence, perpetuating violence against Shao Yao.
At this point, the contrast in character between the two became glaringly obvious.
Naturally, Yan Qichen began losing fans, partnerships, and credibility as more of his scandals came to light. D-brand swiftly terminated their collaboration with him.
Although Yan Qichen was a relatively popular star at the time, his foundation was shaky—certainly not as solid as Zhang Che’s. Zhang Che, at least, had notable works to his name. Yan Qichen’s fame was largely the product of Huashen Entertainment’s brainwashing-style marketing. The shows he acted in weren’t particularly successful; in fact, Yan Qichen himself was more famous than his projects.
In terms of pure work, Shao Yao outclassed Yan Qichen by a hundredfold. However, Shao Yao’s low-profile nature meant he rarely used his personal life as a selling point.
It wasn’t until after Voice of the Dead was completed that fans began to notice Shao Yao’s endearing personality. He had started talking more, revealing a charming and approachable side.
When fans looked back at his earlier works, they discovered that Shao Yao was grounded, reliable, and genuinely worth supporting.
The public perception of Shao Yao and Yan Qichen flipped dramatically.
By the time Shao Yao’s reputation had recovered, Voice of the Dead premiered on Grape Film’s platform.
Given that Lu Xu had previously been b*llied by the Verse trio and Shao Yao had been harshly mistreated by Yan Qichen, many fans jokingly referred to their collaboration as the “Dog Duo Revenge Arc.”
Lu Xu & Shao Yao: “…”
Excuse us?
They both considered themselves far beyond such petty labels, having mastered the essence of V-School and ventured into its deeper realms.
#Confident And Thriving #
#The two-headed dog of hell returns #
#Question: Hell’s three-headed dog = one dog, two-headed dog = how many dogs? #
Still, fans could see that under Lu Xu’s influence, Shao Yao had indeed become more talkative and self-assured.
[Lu Xu really has this ability to make people around him better!]
[Maybe that’s the charm of a puppy!]
…
Before the broadcast of Voice of the Dead, several drama critics and entertainment bloggers made predictions about the show’s eventual success. Some believed that the final popularity score of Voice of the Dead would exceed 10,000 points, while others thought that unit-style crime-solving dramas like Voice of the Dead hadn’t been major hits for a long time. Even though Lu Xu had starred in several highly successful dramas, Voice of the Dead was clearly a story-driven show rather than one focused on its actors.
“If the production team of Voice of the Dead had strong confidence in the drama, they wouldn’t need to rely on the CP dynamic between Jiang Lin and Su Yang as a selling point,” one blogger remarked.
The entertainment blogger’s evaluation was objective, free of overt negativity toward the production team or any particular actor, and not pessimistic without reason.
Looking at the TV drama market of recent years, major hits were either historical romance dramas or realistic shows that brutally portrayed human emotions, such as The Path of Bones. The genre of Voice of the Dead, by comparison, was relatively niche.
Of course, for a drama to become a hit, it needed the right timing, favorable conditions, and the right people involved. A quality production didn’t necessarily guarantee commercial success.
However, the industry was well aware that Lu Xu badly needed another breakout drama.
Although Lu Xu himself didn’t place much importance on whether a series became a hit or not—The Path of Bones had already earned him the capital to weather failures—this was still a critical period for him to secure his standing in the industry.
The Path of Bones had successfully propelled Lu Xu to the ranks of mid-tier leading actors. If he could star in another drama as successful as The Path of Bones, it was almost certain that the industry would recognize him as a top-tier young actor.
More importantly, considering Lu Xu’s career trajectory, he was one of the few rising stars who had gained prominence without relying on historical romance dramas—a rare feat in the current entertainment landscape.
In other words, if Lu Xu made it to the top tier, he would automatically gain a competitive edge over his peers.
This advantage came from his ability to avoid the intense competition in the historical romance genre while possessing a natural aptitude for serious dramas. When selecting actors for such shows, production teams would inevitably prioritize someone like Lu Xu.
That said, it wasn’t easy to undermine Lu Xu at the moment.
The four male actors marketed as the “breakout stars” of The Empress ultimately fizzled out. After all, the one carrying the drama was Qiao Mengyao, so the show’s performance didn’t significantly impact the ecosystem of rising male actors.
However, if a drama starring a top-tier young actor directly clashed with Lu Xu’s and ended up flopping, it would only help Lu Xu ascend to the top tier while causing losses for the other actor. No one could afford that kind of risk.
Lu Xu… seemed to have an almost mystical air about him.
This year, Lu Xu was even more dangerous than he had been the year before.
Early next year, the Stellar Awards would begin accepting submissions. Naturally, the production team of The Path of Bones had already submitted Lu Xu’s name for Best Actor.
If there was even a one-in-ten-thousand chance that Lu Xu received another nomination for the Stellar Awards, his rise to the top tier would be inevitable.
But if Voice of the Dead flopped, his climb might be delayed slightly.
…
Voice of the Dead was still scheduled to premiere during the prime-time slot on Grape Film.
Two versions of the trailer had already prepared viewers for the drama’s tone, but the moment they clicked play, the somber and desolate style of the opening theme still sent shivers down their spines.
The theme’s soundtrack was a hauntingly ethereal piece of music, like a lament carried from distant mountains, descending upon the earth just as the last ray of light vanished over the horizon.
It sounded like a confession, or perhaps a cry.
The visuals were shrouded in darkness, occasionally pierced by flashes of ash-gray words:
[Kill]
[Why did you kill me?]
[Hate]
[Why, why, why?]
[Please]
[I don’t want to die.]
The ash scattered in the wind, but the spreading hatred lingered, leaving wounds that would haunt the witnesses for decades.
And so, the story began with the first episode.
A body was discovered in the central lake of S City. Judging by its condition, the corpse had been there for quite some time, likely since before summer. It was badly decayed, incomplete, and far from intact. The Criminal Investigation Team had no intention of calling on Jiang Lin, the psychic, to assist with the case. Yet, to their dismay, he appeared effortlessly in the midst of a group of fishermen, blending in perfectly as he chatted with them like old friends and managed to extract a wealth of information.
The team captain’s exasperated expression was crystal clear, even through the screen.
Jiang Lin, with his unkempt hair looking like he had just rolled out of bed, wore a T-shirt featuring a cartoon monster, paired with jeans and slippers. His droopy eyelids and sluggish demeanor gave the impression that he was less energetic than the elderly men exercising in the nearby park.
The Criminal Investigation Team Captain shot a glance at his subordinate and said, “Get Su Yang over here.”
The camera then focused on the corpse in detail—if it could even be called that. What lay before them was more of a mangled chunk of flesh with a human head attached. The rest of the body had either been dredged up from the lake or could randomly resurface anywhere on Earth. No one could predict it.
“Died a terrible death,” one of the officers muttered as they observed the scene. “Another tough case to crack.”
Jiang Lin, however, began slowly circling the remains, his gaze scanning them with deliberate focus.
Given how Voice of the Dead spared no effort in showing the ghastly, swollen, and pale state of the corpse, most viewers at this point shifted their eyes to Jiang Lin instead.
From Tan Qi’s perspective, Lu Xu’s portrayal of Jiang Lin was a stark contrast to his previous roles. This character had nothing to do with conventional good looks.
What caught her attention first was Jiang Lin’s laid-back personality—his lazy demeanor, which reminded her of herself lounging until noon on weekends.
In the scene, Jiang Lin casually glanced at the corpse.
But in the moment his eyes locked onto it, a voice suddenly emerged.
Unlike the discussions of the crowd by the lake, the orders the team captain gave his subordinates, or any other sound in the area, this voice seemed to come from another dimension—a sound from the depths of hell, something no ordinary human could produce.
Sharp, piercing, filled with a deep sense of resentment.
Just hearing it made every hair on one’s body stand on end, an instinctive, bone-deep feeling of fear.
Yet Jiang Lin didn’t frown.
He tilted his head, listening intently.
Sobbing and screaming, pleas and despair—each sound sent shivers through the soul.
The crunch of a bicycle over cobblestones, the ringing of a bell, the cries of street vendors shouting their wares, the shattering of a window… These were all ordinary sounds. But when tied to the presence of a corpse, the mundane became something terrifying.
[I’ve got people outside my house trading kitchen knives and basins too! Ahhhh!]
[Does it have to be this scary?]
[When the corpse stared at me, I almost screamed for help. But hearing the bicycle sound? That really panicked me—I literally heard one this morning!]
[Same here… Someone just rode past my house on a bike! Ahhhh!]
Despite their fear, the audience kept watching.
Thankfully, after the eerie sounds faded, the visuals became less unsettling, and the background music and sound effects returned to normal.
Not long after, Su Yang arrived behind Jiang Lin.
Su Yang was clearly a “cool guy”—his shirt crisp and impeccably pressed, even his movements exuding a sharp decisiveness.
When he and Jiang Lin met, their eyes locked for only a few seconds before Jiang Lin shared everything he had deduced:
“Cobblestone ground, morning, not a new neighborhood—more like an urban village. Look for a vendor selling candied hawthorn near the coastline. It’s roughly in this area.”
Su Yang, it turned out, carried a map with him. The moment Jiang Lin provided the information, he spread the map open and drew a circle around the area Jiang Lin had indicated.
“The victim might not be the only one,” Jiang Lin said.
Su Yang gave a slight nod. “What about the suspect?”
Jiang Lin immediately understood what he meant. “There’s only one.”
[??? I didn’t get any of that. How did they figure it out?]
[So only they get to have this telepathic connection, and the audience doesn’t deserve to know? [dog emoji][dog emoji]]
As the plot progressed, Jiang Lin eventually explained—there’s a difference between the breathing of one suspect and that of two, as well as in their footsteps.
Hearing the voices of the dead might be a supernatural ability, but extracting useful information from what the corpses provided was a skill Jiang Lin had honed over time.
The sound of the sea breeze, for instance, was due to S City’s coastal location. Jiang Lin, having grown up by the sea, was more familiar with the stronger winds on the coastal side.
Jiang Lin and Su Yang each embarked on their respective investigative paths.
It was only the first episode, yet their chemistry was already undeniable.
This kind of mutual trust, the willingness to have each other’s backs, had already been hinted at in the trailer. However, as the series officially aired, viewers found themselves moved not just by their unspoken understanding conveyed through glances, but also by their ability to swiftly analyze information and proceed with their investigation.
Voice of the Dead was clearly a game for the clever.
[This is so interesting!]
[Two episodes in, and the pacing is amazing! I feel like these two episodes are laying the groundwork for something—I’m definitely rewatching after this case wraps up.]
[Is this what they call the legendary ‘strong x powerful CP’? I’m obsessed!]