The Novelist Forced to Become Famous

Chapter 297

In the rainy forest at night, a ghostly sheep led the way ahead, like a messenger from the netherworld, beckoning one's soul towards the gate of hell.

Jiang BaiYan felt an indescribable fear. It wasn't because of the creepy forest, nor was it due to the bizarre white lamb, but rather this scene triggered his deepest fear.

Just as he told Jian Jing, his scaredy cat persona in the haunted house wasn't all an act. He was genuinely afraid of the dark.

Ever since he was young, his most dreaded nightmares always involved finding himself in a completely unfamiliar place, surrounded by no one he knew, not even another person.

Whether it be an remote dark room, a deserted countryside, or a desolate mountain forest.

No matter how loud he yelled, he could never get any response.

The psychiatrist said this stemmed from the trauma he suffered during childhood. He feared being abandoned, and craved intimate bonds with others, like a symbiotic organism that needed to find a host.

"Humans are very strange creatures. The more they lack something, the more they pursue it," Wang Shiji wrote in a letter to him at the time. "You're timid and cowardly, so you desire her courage and integrity. You're weak and incompetent, so you admire her resilience and intelligence. You hope to become like her, but know you could never achieve that, so you're doomed to be a parasite your whole life."

That man was very smart, but also vicious.

"Baa~"

Jiang BaiYan looked up.

The white sheep led him through the dense woods, onto a narrow path. Before he realized it, the rough outlines of the farm emerged before his eyes once more.

Somehow he was back here again.

Had Jian Jing returned? Jiang BaiYan quickened his pace and rushed back into the house, but inside was still quiet without a sign of life.

He wondered: "Why did you bring me back here?"

The lamb walked up the stairs. Its hooves left no prints on the wooden floorboards.

Jiang BaiYan followed it into the room at the end of the hallway. Inside was a small bed with a faded Superman carpet on the floor. On the walls were yellowed pages of crude drawings.

A child's bedroom.

The white sheep stopped by a bookshelf on the wall.

Two fairytale books covered in dust tilted to one side. Jiang BaiYan picked them up and flipped through, unable to comprehend the words. He knocked on them instead, searching for hidden compartments.

And there was one.

The back panel of the top shelf was hollow. He pried open the edges with a dagger and removed the panel, taking out a photo album.

When he opened it, there were old photographs from the previous century.

He saw what Old Frank looked like when he was young, and a red-haired woman who was probably his wife. Flipping over, their child was born, a chubby little tot with fiery red hair running around the green farm.

Red hair?

This should be Little Frank, but he...had black hair!

Jiang BaiYan sucked in a breath, feeling a chill rush up his spine as his skull turned cold.

Could it be...this Little Frank wasn't the one he'd met before?

Then who was he?

"Baa!" The lamb suddenly bleated urgently.

Jiang BaiYan hastily closed the album and returned it to its hiding spot. At almost the same time, loud footsteps and Old William's furious curses sounded from outside.

"White, where the hell are you? Get out here, we need to leave right now!"

There was only one staircase leading downstairs. He would certainly run into them if he went down. And with his physical ability, trying to escape through the window was out of the question.

Jiang BaiYan had nowhere to hide. He could only crawl under the bed.

"Bang!" The moment he tucked his legs in, the door was shoved open.

Old William dripped rainwater, spewing vulgarities: "F**k! I told you not to follow that sheep, why didn't you listen to me? We can still make it if we leave now. Let's get out of here and go back to town, come on!"

His heavy footsteps echoed as rainwater mixed with strange viscous fluids dripped down.

"White!" He shouted Jiang BaiYan's English name loudly and flung open the closet violently.

No one was inside.

He lifted up the bed frame and peeked underneath.

Nothing there either.

With no more places to hide someone in the room, he could only vent his frustration with curses before leaving.

The footsteps faded away.

Under the floor, Jiang BaiYan silently let out a breath. Thank goodness he hadn't forgotten to work out despite eating more lately, otherwise squeezing an adult man into such a cramped space between floors would have been quite difficult.

He pushed open the hidden compartment, and laboriously crawled out, not forgetting to take the items hidden inside with him.

A badge, a map, and an unopened letter.

The seal on the envelope was still intact.

Jiang BaiYan opened the letter and struggled to comprehend its contents.

It was a letter Old Frank had written to Little Frank. It read:

"My dear son, to prevent my sudden death one day before you learn of the secrets carried in our family line, I have decided to write this letter down. If you get to read this, perhaps you will understand many of the things I have done.

"Let me tell you, our Hansen family originated from distant England. In the early 17th century, our ancestors sailed across the ocean and came to this mystical North American continent, settling down here. A hundred years later, Frank L. Hansen became a soldier in the Continental Army and participated in the War of Independence under General M's leadership. He took part in a secret mission - to find a life-saving panacea for the army.

"Unfortunately, he did not leave a single word behind. Around 1947, my father received orders from the military to go to Dusk Town once more. Our family settled down there since then. But in the summer of 1972, he died on duty after failing his mission.

"In his will, he asked me to stay here and stand guard over the demon in the woods. My dear boy, remember, there is something terrifying lurking in the Dusk Forest. We must not let it lure people into releasing it. Once the demon awakens, everyone will suffer its vengeance!"

He held his head, feeling things have become even more complicated.

Gigantic Tree, a name that lives up to reality.

Jian Jing had never seen such colossal trees before. At first glance, it resembled a skyscraper built from tree roots, yet broader and more mysterious than any tower. Compared to this behemoth, ordinary large trees were like people next to a Gundam.

Borrowing Little Frank's perspective, my god, while nowhere as titanic as the entity looming before her very eyes, the massive tree in his view was no longer just a tree either, closer to the visage of a deity.

Red gleams flickered atop the boughs, with naturally formed textures seemingly depicting different expressions. The tree was speaking, voicing its own thoughts.

It was like...a deformed divine icon.

"Come." Little Frank leapt onto a thick root tendril, allowing the vine-like appendages to coil around him like snakes. "Hearken to the summons of divinity, and heed the will of God."

Jian Jing feigned an enraptured look: "So this is...God?"

"From time immemorial to the distant future, it shall forever shelter us." Little Frank beckoned her. "Quick, come over."

Jian Jing took a step forward, as if just recalling something. She casually asked: "What happened to that arsonist?"

Little Frank's face contorted in hatred. "Why are you asking about that bastard? He's dead! Dead! Those who desecrate divinity must pay the price!"

Jian Jing said nothing.

He shot back: "You don't believe me?"

She slowly nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I suspect you are him, Qi Tian," Jian Jing raised her head to stare him down. "Am I right?"

Little Frank looked at her in surprise.

After a while, he laughed. The fanaticism faded from his face, morphing into something sinister. The madness lurking in his eyes also receded, replaced by haughty condescension from on high.

"How did I give myself away?"

"You specifically fabricated your Native American ancestry to explain your ethnicity." Jian Jing said. "I have to admit you were very careful, but the cooking was too delicious."

Little Frank...or rather, Qi Tian, raised an eyebrow.

"As far as I know, foreigners don't cook like this. Sometimes the tongue betrays one's origin even more easily than accents. Calling yourself Qi Tian, living as long as heaven - surely you wouldn't deny something so trivial?" Jian Jing asked.

Qi Tian guffawed. "I see. Don't get complacent though. I've known about you for twenty years already."

Now it was Jian Jing's turn to raise her brows.

"You destroyed my Seven Stars Coffin Seal," he said. "Back then when the coffin was buried, I divined about the efficacy of this magic, and didn't expect it would only last twenty years. Twenty years, I spent ten years setting up the Seven Stars Coffin Seal, but it only extended my life twenty years. If you were me, wouldn't you be curious?"

Jian Jing reminded: "Twenty years ago, I might not even have been born yet."

"Of course, I didn't know your surname and name, only eight characters - Sunshine through the Bamboo Door, Competing Spring Beauty, at the time I didn't fully comprehend it," he smiled, his eyes cold, "But last year, when I saw the show you hosted, I finally understood the cause and effect."

Jian Jing thought for a moment, and asked: "Twenty years ago, you already knew the Seven Stars Coffin Seal would fail, so that's why you came here looking for what they call a god?"

"You're very clever, that's right," Qi Tian said. "Feng shui life extension is after all a temporary measure. To truly achieve immortality, you still have to follow the path walked by the ancients and search for the real elixir of immortality."

Jian Jing frowned slightly.

Her questioning was just probing to understand Qi Tian's attitude. She didn't expect him to be so polite and share with her his plans. After all, she had foiled his most important scheme.

However, inwardly vigilant, outwardly she didn't show any surprise, but played along looking at the giant tree, laughing: "Don't tell me this is the thing the First Emperor Qin Shihuang was looking for, that's too clichéd. Who still uses that legend to make up stories nowadays?"

"I don't know what immortality elixir the First Emperor was looking for, but according to records, there is an immortal tree on Quanqiu Mountain that bestows longevity when eaten, which aligns with the legend here."

When disguised as Little Frank, Qi Tian spoke in an angry and aggressive tone. Shedding that persona, he now took on a different narrative angle: "The natives believe this is a divine tree that can make them immune to blades and revive the dead. Indeed it has incredible properties. When I first arrived, my biological age was already over fifty, but look at me now..."

He stroked his still smooth face and smiled, "Immortality may be wishful thinking, but longevity has never been an ethereal dream."

Jian Jing asked, "If it's so wonderful, why did you want to burn down the forest?"

"Ha, what do you think it is? Just a tree? Without nearly burning it to death, how can you obtain its power?" Qi Tian scornfully mocked. "Only the foolish locals believe the divine cannot be desecrated."

So arrogant. Could he have killed someone?

"What happened to Little Frank whose identity you stole?" she asked.

Qi Tian lowered his gaze, seeming to smirk, "Want to know? I've already answered many of your questions. There's still a long time, no hurry."

Jian Jing instantly grew wary, "What do you mean?"

Qi Tian waved his hand. As if on command, the tree roots writhed towards her, trying to entangle her.

Jian Jing nimbly dodged, refusing to be trapped.

"You've eaten its fruit, you can't escape." He was completely at ease. "Stop resisting. Don't you want to meet the so-called god?"

Jian Jing froze, scanning him up and down, "God?"

"You're here anyway, go ahead and meet it," the corners of Qi Tian's lips curled into an inscrutable smile. "Meet something that transcends human imagination, an aloof and undescribable god."

In that instant, her intuition activated, telling her he was speaking the truth.

There really was some inexplicable, mystifying existence here.

Author's note: Mwah

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