The eight large characters on the page blurred into a pool of ink, unexpectedly rippling outward in layers.
Zhou Yang's consciousness suddenly fell into those layer upon layer of ripples; all around was dim.
He suddenly felt as if he himself had plunged into the sea, violently falling toward the seabed—
In that instant, chaotic images and past memories flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern.
He suddenly saw a mirror.
Mournful, desolate opera singing drifted from the mirror. Zhou Yang drew close to the mirror and saw himself in it, "Ghost's Mouths" opened all over his body, exhaling cold ghostly energy that drifted everywhere without rhyme or reason.
The Zhou Yang in the mirror vanished in a moment, but the singing continued, faint and unbroken.
A female ghost in blood-stained white robes appeared again in the mirror.
Threads crisscrossed around it horizontally and vertically, weaving a net.
The net kept spreading outward.
Layer upon layer.
Until it spread beyond the mirror.
That net...
Chang Dafeng's warning flashed through Zhou Yang's mind at that moment:
"There's an old folk saying, 'Gui Silk Ghost Tone'—meaning that a gui gives off thread-like energy from its body, that energy holds the gui up, making it look like a puppet in a puppet show…"
"If that ghost's outer energy is like tree rings, like water ripples—all in all, whenever it circles around it in rings, that is a ghost!"
Gui Silk Ghost Tone…
The ghost's outer energy was like a net, circling it ring upon ring…
It was a ghost!
Not a gui!
Just as his consciousness sank completely into darkness, a thought suddenly boiled in Zhou Yang's mind!
Mournful opera singing surged in, washing over every thought in Zhou Yang's mind: "The lover dwells in the beloved's heart, I am at my heartbroken moment; the moon knows my wronged feelings…"
"Meeting is hard, parting is easy—now it is all too late for regret;"
"I do not know if on that day the phoenixes rejoiced together…"
…
"Ding Ling!"
A man's voice, deliberately pinched at the throat, suddenly came from behind Ding Ling.
Perhaps the voice was too shrill, causing Ding Ling to instinctively hear an echo in her head.
The echo was deep, somewhat like her benefactor's voice.
Ding Ling held a firewood knife in her hand, looking at the black surface of the water in the water vat, which dimly reflected her own lonely shadow. Her expression darkened. She turned back and glared at the man calling her name.
Though the other was a man, he wore rouge and powder.
Though dressed in men's clothing, he wore a pair of embroidered shoes on his feet.
Those shoes were exceptionally small, yet could fit this man's foot.
This man was Li Yichun, who played female roles in the opera troupe.
Li Yichun rolled his eyes at Ding Ling's gaze, not in a good mood. Mincing along, he pursed his lips and said, "Little girl, you still dare to glare at people? Believe it or not, I'll whip you!"
"Hurry up and follow!"
"What hysterics are you putting on over there!"
"You've delayed everyone's time—can you take responsibility?!"
"It's you who delayed so long; what can you blame me for?"
"You go to chop firewood and still have to paint your face—I think you're throwing come-hither glances at ghosts—" Ding Ling lifted her chin, not showing weakness, and fired back several retorts at Li Yichun.
"Hey—" Li Yichun, already walking ahead of Ding Ling, turned back, raised an eyebrow, glared at Ding Ling, and said, "Considering the great service you did for the opera troupe last night, I won't lower myself to argue with you!"
"Go, go, chop firewood. If you dawdle anymore, watch out for the troupe leader enforcing the rules!"
Ding Ling wrinkled her nose, gave a soft huff, stopped arguing with Li Yichun, and, carrying her firewood knife, followed him.
The two walked side by side toward the outer courtyard gate.
Li Yichun leaned toward Ding Ling.
He had an ambiguous smile, batted his eyes at Ding Ling, and asked in a soft, coquettish voice, "Hey, Ding Ling, the troupe leader last night should have taught you his true transmission—that Opera Spirit-Communion method, right?"
"Tell us, what exactly is that Opera Spirit-Communion method?"
Looking at this man's face, preening and posing in front of her, Ding Ling felt outright nauseated.
She moved away in disgust, farther from this one who came out of the male quarters, and replied:
"The troupe leader said, whoever wants to see that Opera Spirit-Communion method can go find him directly."
"I can't leak a single word from here."
"If anyone harbors crooked intentions toward me, the troupe leader's 'rules' certainly won't spare them!"
"You dead girl!"
Li Yichun cursed viciously.
He wanted to say something more, but suddenly heard footsteps behind him. He looked back and saw Gao Hongbo, who played painted-face roles in the opera troupe, also carrying a firewood basket on his back and holding a firewood sickle, striding over.
"Eh, Elder Brother Gao!"
"Didn't the troupe leader tell you to go with him to the drying yard to set up the stage?"
Li Yichun's expression brightened, and he quickly greeted the man walking toward them.
"He said he didn't need my help anymore, the troupe leader could do it alone. I'll follow you outside to chop firewood."
"After all, Old Heng and Little Stone are two men strong enough for the work, while you two have no strength in your hands. Climbing mountains and crossing forests to chop firewood will be tough for you." Gao Hongbo responded with a simple smile, his voice somewhat hoarse.
Hearing this, Li Yichun smiled even more, like a blooming flower. "Ai, to tell you the truth, in our opera troupe, Elder Brother Gao is the kindest. Now that such a big thing has happened, we'll surely rely on Elder Brother Gao in the future."
"Elder Brother Gao, please look after us more."
"Heh, certainly, certainly…" Gao Hongbo agreed repeatedly.
Ding Ling also followed Li Yichun and greeted Gao Hongbo: "Elder Brother Gao."
She had previously been a menial worker in the Dengtai Liyuan Troupe, very distant from these "performers" who could sing on stage. Usually they were only nodding acquaintances, not as close as Li Yichun and Gao Hongbo, performers of the same level who were warm with each other.
"Eh, Ding Ling…" Gao Hongbo quickly replied. He slightly opened his mouth, clearly still wanting to say something to Ding Ling—
But Li Yichun beside him pulled him back and blinked at him:
"The troupe leader has rules; no one is allowed to speak of it."
"You'd better not open your mouth; asking would be useless."
Gao Hongbo wanted to say something to Ding Ling, but now it went without saying.
—Nothing more than asking her about the ins and outs of the Opera Spirit-Communion method.
Gao Hongbo smiled, and his gaze toward Ding Ling suddenly faded.
He turned instead to speak quietly with Li Yichun.
The two walked shoulder to shoulder ahead, and before long left Ding Ling behind.
The two walking ahead kept turning back to look at Ding Ling, not knowing what they were secretly saying about her.
Ding Ling pressed her lips, her face grim.
The Dengtai Liyuan Troupe was settled by the people of Daliang Village in this abandoned courtyard.
This old courtyard sat on the hillside at the highest point of Daliang Village.
At this moment, Ding Ling stood on the slope looking down and saw tiled-roof broken houses and rammed-earth houses densely arranged among the gullies and ridges below the hillside, spreading like the shattered veins of a leaf.
In the village, though human figures moved, it was still deathly silent, without any human vitality.
She felt herself to be alone and solitary.
So she couldn't help but softly call in her heart: "Benefactor? Benefactor…"
"Will you come back?"
"Am I not back?" A man's voice suddenly sounded in Ding Ling's heart.
Ding Ling was stunned for a moment, then her heart leapt with joy, her face lit up with smiles.
Chapter 19