Chapter 52: 052

The Black-Faced Warrior scrambled out from under the bed in a panic. The tiny room was packed with people at some point—besides the six guests, there were also two tribal warriors with matching black faces.

Song Guiya fixed him with a stern glare, holding a familiar little black box in her hand.

Shock flashed across the Black-Faced Warrior’s face.

The listening device he’d secretly planted yesterday had been discovered?!

This gadget was strictly regulated. He’d pulled strings to get someone to buy it on the black market. It wasn’t the sleekest model, but it was top-tier—undetectable by any scanner.

How the hell had they found it?!

Impossible as it seemed, the evidence was staring him in the face.

Realizing he was busted, the Black-Faced Warrior spun around and leaped out the window to flee.

As long as they didn’t catch him, there was still a way out of this mess.

But the moment he hit the ground after vaulting over the sill, four tribal warriors who had been lying in wait surrounded him.

The Black-Faced Warrior froze on the spot.

Talk about jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

He was hauled back in front of Song Guiya. She nodded politely to the four tribal warriors. “Thank you for your trouble.”

The tribal warriors replied, “No problem at all. Chief Yue’s orders—we carry them out without question.”

They had no idea about the listening device, so they couldn’t fathom why one of their colleagues had actually jumped out of a female guest’s bamboo house window in an escape attempt.

After handing him over, the four showed no signs of leaving. They stuck around, watching the drama unfold up close alongside everyone else.

Song Guiya didn’t chase them off.

It was all being live-streamed anyway; no point.

She glanced at Xi Tongyue, who was leaning against the bamboo doorframe, then turned back and set the listening device down in front of the Black-Faced Warrior. Her voice took on an uncharacteristically cold edge, carrying the weight of decisive authority.

“Will you confess on your own, or do I need to help you along?”

The Black-Faced Warrior: ???

Under the blazing midday sun, why did a chill suddenly run down his spine?

The onlookers: ……

Why did that line sound so eerily familiar?

After a moment of bewilderment, the Black-Faced Warrior still failed to grasp how serious this was. He doubled down stubbornly. “Confess what? I was just helping clean the room. I haven’t done anything shady.”

Song Guiya sighed inwardly at his refusal to crack.

Interrogations always required jumping through these hoops first.

The end result would be a full confession either way—why not skip straight to it?

The others frowned at his attitude, but before anyone else could speak, Du Difeng cut in. “If you’ve got nothing to hide, why’d you jump out the window?!”

“Was it you who planted the listening device?”

“No.”

“The cameras caught the whole thing. You still gonna deny it?”

The Black-Faced Warrior jutted out his chin defiantly. “You say I planted it? Where’s your proof? Put up or shut up—let the audience decide. If you’ve got nothing, let me go. What, you gonna hit me or something?”

His boldness stemmed from knowing the cameras had been fixed to the central beam of the bamboo house after construction. With the bamboo curtains in place, they couldn’t capture the bed—or him planting the device.

Du Difeng, ever the hot-tempered young master, bristled at the provocation. “Hah, we’ll see about that.”

He was rolling up his sleeves to act when Song Guiya held him back.

Forget that they were filming; if fists started flying, Du Difeng’s career would be finished.

More crucially, they still didn’t know the guy’s true motives.

If this was just his solo act, the program crew would drag him off to the station—no need for them to get involved.

But if it was some twisted new game segment from the crew, beating him up would be like volunteering to torch themselves.

“I’m reminding you: it’s still not too late to come clean,” Song Guiya said evenly. Yet her words left an unsettling knot in the gut.

Emboldened by the belief they wouldn’t dare lay a hand on him during the show, the Black-Faced Warrior clamped his jaw shut.

As long as he stayed silent, he still had wiggle room.

Song Guiya turned to the tribal warriors nearby. They had shifted from quiet spectatorship to wide-eyed shock upon learning the Black-Faced Warrior had secretly installed a listening device under Xi Tongyue’s bed. “If you gentlemen would be so kind as to hold down his arms and legs so he can’t thrash about.”

The tribal warriors exchanged uneasy glances, hesitating.

Was Teacher Song about to resort to harsh interrogation?

Should they really get mixed up in this?

Suddenly, an icy gaze pierced them from behind. They turned to find Xi Tongyue staring them down, her face a mask of blank indifference.

The next second, their bodies had already pinned the Black-Faced Warrior’s arms and legs down tight, though their minds were still lagging behind.

Wait—what the hell was that?

Why did Teacher Xi’s glare make them feel like they were about to be hauled off for a beheading?

Song Guiya casually picked up a small stick from the ground and walked over to the Black-Faced Warrior.

“What are you doing? We’re in the middle of filming!” The Black-Faced Warrior’s previously steady expression turned panicked in an instant.

Song Guiya kicked off one of his straw sandals and said with dead seriousness, “Your eyes are all puffy, and your face is pale as a ghost. Looks like kidney trouble to me. Let me fix you up.”

Black-Faced Warrior: ???

The live stream room viewers: Puffy eyes, fine, but pale face?

Just as everyone was scratching their heads over Song Guiya’s game, Chi Huo got it in a flash.

Such a prime chance to shine—how could he pass it up?!

“Master, how can I let you handle this dirty work? I’ll do it!”

Song Guiya shot him a glance and said coolly, “I’m not taking any disciples. Quit yelling that.”

Chi Huo didn’t care. He took the stick from her hand.

Song Guiya prompted, “One inch below the Yongquan acupoint.”

Chi Huo smiled faintly. “Got it.”

The instant he turned to the Black-Faced Warrior, that honest grin twisted into a wicked smirk.

Black-Faced Warrior: !!!

Chi Huo clutched the stick, squatted down, and clamped the man’s ankle with his other hand. Then, with swift, ruthless precision, he jabbed right at the sole of the foot.

“Ahahahaha!”

A bloodcurdling, freakish wail tore through the sky, sending the forest birds scattering once more.

It wasn’t until the Black-Faced Warrior had laughed and cried himself into a puddle of physiological tears that he finally screeched for mercy. “I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Director Wang told me to plant the listening device!”

The Old Ancestor’s handed-down tricks worked like a charm, no matter the era.

“What’s the goal?” Song Guiya asked, arms crossed as she loomed over the man on the ground.

“This… this, I really can’t say.”

“For a new game?”

“Yeah…” The Black-Faced Warrior tried to fob them off with that, but one glance up at Chi Huo brandishing the stick made him fold. “No, not that.”

Not a game—and the other Tribal Warriors’ total cluelessness backed that up.

If that was the case, then it was Director Wang acting on his own.

But the motive was still under wraps.

Song Guiya paused, then said, “How much did the director pay you? I’ll double it.”

The Black-Faced Warrior gaped at her in shock. “How did you… No, Teacher Song, have mercy! The cameras are rolling—this is tough to spill.”

Song Guiya didn’t budge. She jerked her chin at Chi Huo.

He snatched the stick back up, coiled and ready.

“Wait—hold on! You’ve got me! I’ll spill, all right?!” The ordeal had left the Black-Faced Warrior’s throat raw; his voice came out like Donald Duck.

Once he’d confessed every last detail, everyone was left speechless.

Especially Du Difeng, whose face went deathly pale. “Just because Wang Jian can’t let it go, he wants to drag my sister’s old story into the light?”

The Black-Faced Warrior pulled a miserable face. “It’s not like he planned it—you kept gunning for Teacher Song, and it started bubbling up online all vague-like. Someone squashed it, but a few days ago it hit the trends again. Director Wang just wanted to air it out on the show…”

Du Difeng fixed him with a savage glare, like a wolf cub on the verge of snapping. “Air out what?”

The Black-Faced Warrior clammed up, sneaking a peek at the silent Song Guiya.

What else? It was the tale of Song Guiya playing mistress, wrecking Du Siqi’s romance, and indirectly causing her death.

That would spike the show’s buzz—and torpedo Song Guiya’s career.

Just like those scandal-plagued guests from past episodes.

Song Guiya’s brows furrowed as she rummaged through her memories, finally dredging up a woman named Du Siqi.

Du Difeng ground his tongue against his back molars. “No wonder some random creep fed me weird lines last night. That was you, huh? Trying to get me riled up again so I’d go after Teacher Song?”

Song Guiya blinked in mild surprise. The guy had dropped odd hints on her last night too.

She hadn’t gotten it then, but now it clicked.

The Black-Faced Warrior forced a grin by way of admission.

For once, Du Difeng’s brain was firing on all cylinders. He said coldly, “Teacher Song saved my life. I’ve had no right to chase that grudge for ages. What made you so sure I’d pick a fight with her?”

Faced with the aggressive interrogation and the intimidation of the little wooden stick, the Black-Faced Warrior looked utterly despondent.

Things had come to this point anyway, so he had no choice but to spill everything.

“You don’t need to confront her at all,” he said. “As long as this matter plants a seed in your hearts, the bottled-up frustration will eventually make you vent to those around you. Every word will be captured by the listening device. Then Director Wang can craft countermeasures based on what you say and fan the flames into a full blaze.”

Song Guiya might not take the bait easily, but Du Difeng’s personality was ripe for manipulation.

It truly was an ignition point.

Du Difeng blinked in confusion. “What? You planted a listening device in my room too? How did I miss it? Where is it?”

The Black-Faced Warrior replied, “Right under your bed. Once I picked this one up, I was headed to retrieve yours next.”

These listening devices were well hidden, but they had one major flaw: no real-time monitoring. You had to take the box home and plug it into a computer to play back the recordings.

Song Guiya lowered her eyes to glance at the listening device in her hand. “If this is about Teacher Du and me, why hide it under Teacher Xi’s bed?”

“Your bed’s pretty crude,” the Black-Faced Warrior explained. “Stashing it right underneath would’ve been spotted by anyone paying the slightest attention. Teacher Xi’s is more finely made—you can tuck things into the grooves of the bamboo slats without them being noticed.”

The pickup range on these devices was excellent; they could catch sound even from the far side of the bed. And if they happened to record some of Xi Tongyue’s private secrets? All the better.

Song Guiya nodded, seeing the logic.

Such a bulky item would indeed be visible through the gaps in a rough bed like that.

Du Difeng suddenly caught on. His own bed was just as crude—why slap it right underneath?

He seized the Black-Faced Warrior’s foot, grinding his teeth. “Are you insulting me?”

The Black-Faced Warrior paled in panic. “No, no, no! We’re all grown men—being a little careless isn’t a bad thing. I swear, I don’t look down on you!”

Du Difeng let out a cold laugh, snatched the wooden stick from Chi Huo’s hand, and jabbed viciously at the man’s soles.

A wretched howl echoed through the air once more.

Now that the full story was out, they untied the Black-Faced Warrior after Du Difeng finished venting his rage. Song Guiya, however, declared he couldn’t leave just yet.

He didn’t object, merely asking, “Hey, I’ve confessed everything—does the double pay still stand?”

Song Guiya’s lips curved into a smile. “Of course. A lawyer will get in touch with you once this wraps up.”

The Black-Faced Warrior stared blankly. “A lawyer?”

“Installing listening devices without consent is a clear invasion of privacy,” Song Guiya said. “Straight from the Civil Code—something every citizen should know.”

Adapting swiftly to modern life had been her top priority since arriving in this world, starting with a thorough grasp of societal rules and laws.

Privacy violations weren’t grave crimes, but they carried penalties scaled to the harm done.

High enforcement costs and lenient punishments meant most people brushed them off, but Song Guiya had always held that if the law drew a line, then everyone—from murderers and arsonists down to petty thieves swiping needles and thread—owed a price for crossing it.

She slipped the listening device into her animal-hide pouch. “We’ve got the physical evidence right here, your own confession on record, and witnesses both in the room and watching on screens. Ironclad proof.”

The Black-Faced Warrior: ???

Chi Huo chimed in, “Wang Jian might be the ringleader, but you took his money to do the dirty work. Neither of you is walking away clean. Get ready for that lawyer’s letter.”

Director Wang, watching from the monitor: !!!

The guests: Turns out “double” didn’t mean double the payout—it meant double the payback. Mind blown.

The Tribal Warriors and live stream audience: What’s it like to go from gossip spectators to star witnesses mid-drama?