Night had turned pitch-black.
Looking down the slope from the doorway, Daliang Village down in the ravine was equally pitch-dark, without a single figure in sight.
That black ravine seemed capable of sucking away a person's soul—Li Yichun had only craned his neck to look a second longer before a chill enveloped his entire body, giving him the feeling that ghosts all around were silently watching him.
He shivered, hastily pulled his head back, closed the courtyard gate, and slid the door bolt into place.
Carrying the incense burner from beside the door over to the threshold, he aligned it with the centerline of the door crack, then fetched three sticks of incense, lit them with a match, and held them up as he walked backward around the courtyard, chanting without pause: "Calling all honorable patrons and esteemed guests to select a play...
"Our troupe sings well: *The Boy Passes the Trials*, *Three Defeats of the White Bone Demon*, *Zhong Kui Marries Off His Sister*, *The Nine Lotus Lanterns*...
"Choose as you please, pick as you like...
"Calling all honorable patrons..."
After walking backward around the courtyard three times, Li Yichun returned to the gate.
He was dressed as a huadan, yet what he was doing was soliciting customers like a brothel prostitute at the door of a whorehouse.
Planting the three sticks of incense into the burner, Li Yichun stared intently at the intermittent, wisping blue smoke rising from their tips, his lips parched.
Just then, Chang Dafeng's voice rang out beside him without warning: "Two short and one long. That's the breath of a ghost.
"The guest has arrived."
Li Yichun started, a numbness jolting down his spine. He turned to find the troupe leader dressed in black, holding a small bamboo sieve in his hands, a cloth pouch tucked into his waist, standing beside him with a cold, grim expression.
"Troupe Leader~" he whined in complaint.
In his shock and terror, the low cry actually sounded delicate and coquettish.
"Go stay with them. There's nothing more for you to do here."
Dismissing Li Yichun, Chang Dafeng untied the cloth pouch from his waist and grabbed a handful of fine sand mixed with incense ash. Holding the small bamboo sieve steady with one hand, he crouched down and sprinkled the fine sand from his other hand onto the sieve.
With a gentle shake of the sieve, fine sand drifted through the mesh onto the dirt ground behind the incense burner.
The grayish-white grains stood out distinctly against the dark-yellow soil.
Bending low, Chang Dafeng sifted the sand, shuffling step by step toward the doorway of the main hall.
In front of the main hall door, Qian Heng stood five wooden tablets—each carved with the title of one of the troupe's specialty ghost-and-spirit opera scenes—firmly into the ground, then sat down on the earth beside them.
Li Yichun hurried over in a panic and sat cross-legged right next to Qian Heng.
Ding Ling sat opposite the two.
The three sat on the ground, encircling the five play tablets in their midst.
Watching Chang Dafeng sift sand as he approached step by step, Ding Ling explained to Zhou Yang in her mind: "Wherever the sand is sprinkled, that is a path the ghost can walk.
"If fingernail-sized hoofprints appear on this ghost road, it means the ghost guest has arrived."
Following Ding Ling's gaze, Zhou Yang observed the layer of fine sand gleaming white in the firelight. The sand was smooth and even; no so-called hoofprints had appeared on it yet.
He asked Ding Ling, "Can this layer of white sand really verify whether a ghost has come near?"
At this question, Ding Ling giggled softly.
Chuckling silently, she explained to Zhou Yang: "You really are sharp.
"Just as you suspected, this layer of white sand is actually just for show. It can't tell if a ghost has approached. The hoofprints that appear in the white sand later are just marks the troupe leader deliberately makes by covering the sieve holes with his fingers.
"The same goes for selecting the play afterward. It looks like the ghost is choosing, but in truth, it's still us living people calling the shots.
"If carrying out a ritual like this actually summoned a ghost to our door, wouldn't that be delivering everyone right into the tiger's jaws to be devoured?
"So this ritual of Inviting the Ghost to Select the Play is really just a trick to fool people."
"At such an eerie moment, with Qian and Li cowering like quail, you actually have the mood to tease and joke with me. You really are bold," Zhou Yang said. "Though at critical junctures, that nerve of yours always seems to fail."
"..." Ding Ling fell bashfully silent, at a loss for words.
Zhou Yang chuckled inwardly while maintaining an impassive front: "Since this is just a trick to fool people, why does everyone in the troupe seem to take it so seriously?
"You all know it's a sham, so couldn't you just bluff your way through and get it over with?"
"That won't do either," Ding Ling said. "Even if there isn't a ghost in the ritual and it's just a sham, everyone must treat it as though a ghost guest has truly arrived.
"Look at that incense burner. It's placed in the lower position, set down in front of us.
"We're sitting behind it in the seat of honor—doesn't that look like spirit tablets receiving incense offerings?
"—We appear to be human right now, but we are actually occupying the 'corpse seat,' serving as spirit tablets left behind by the ghost. Later, when we reach out to knock down one of the play tablets, we will be selecting a play on behalf of the ghost.
"Since it is selecting a play on behalf of the ghost, if we don't believe there is a ghost here, then the play we pick won't be chosen for the ghost, and it won't work.
"Otherwise, it will be very effective!"
"Understood." Zhou Yang nodded.
He looked toward the play tablets encircled in their midst.
Once the hoofprints appeared in the fine sand and 'the ghost guest arrived,' everyone would gather around these tablets, resting their hands together, and ultimately topple one to select a play on behalf of the ghost.
This ritual of Inviting the Ghost to Select the Play was remarkably similar to the Pen Fairy game.
Both involved multiple people holding onto an object together, guiding it toward an unpredictable outcome...
At this thought, an ominous premonition suddenly arose in Zhou Yang's heart.
The night was growing colder and colder.
Qian Heng felt the chill seeping into his shoulders and back, stiffening them. He quietly loosened his shoulders.
Li Yichun beside him blurted out without warning, "Big Brother Gao... will he come back?"
Gao Hongbo?
Hadn't he gone into that stone house? How could he possibly have survived?
How could a dead man come back?
The scattered thoughts suddenly connected in Qian Heng's mind. His back stiffened further, and his eyes widened as he looked at Li Yichun—
Li Yichun, who had been trembling uncontrollably moments ago, had now stopped shivering. With a dazed look on his face, he stared down at the play tablets, seemingly completely unaware of what ghostly nonsense he had just uttered!
Just a moment earlier, Qian Heng had felt that having someone close beside him provided some warmth, keeping his heart from feeling so chilled.
Now, he wished he could kick Li Yichun three li away!
This jinx!
The troupe leader was sifting sand, and seeing that the "ghost road" had nearly reached them, Qian Heng could not afford to do anything else. He could only suppress his surging thoughts and clench his fists with all his might to keep from shaking violently!
He shifted his gaze and looked across at Ding Ling.
Yet Ding Ling sat with downcast eyes, looking thoroughly composed—even steadier than those of them who had spent years roaming the rivers and lakes.
"A guest has arrived—"
Just then, Chang Dafeng, still sifting the fine sand, suddenly called out in a hoarse voice.
The cry was like a raven's caw in the dead of night, sending shivers straight through anyone who heard it!
"Distinguished guest graces our threshold, shedding radiance on our humble dwelling—we invite our distinguished guest to select a play!"
Right after, with a faint smile at the corners of her lips, Ding Ling spoke up in turn.
Qian Heng snapped to attention as well, chanting right after Ding Ling: "Distinguished guest graces our threshold, shedding radiance on our humble dwelling—we invite our distinguished guest to select a play!"
After shouting, he did not dare move a muscle, straining to glance at Li Yichun out of the corner of his eye, terrified that Li Yichun would slip up at this moment and cause a major disaster—
Yet Li Yichun suddenly lifted his face. He was beaming with a smile so radiant that anyone who saw it would feel as if bathed in a spring breeze.
Rouge and face powder were layered over his angular face, and the smile upon it looked meticulously painted on. If one looked at it for even a moment longer, it felt like a smile no human could possibly make!
It resembled the smile painted onto paper effigies or funerary portraits!
Wearing that very smile, Li Yichun beamed enchantingly: "Distinguished guest graces our threshold, shedding radiance on our humble dwelling—we invite our distinguished guest to select a play!"
A wave of icy chills shot straight into Qian Heng's skull!
Chapter 24