Rising to Dominate

Hearing the operatic singing from the right side room, Chang Dafeng was instantly seized by shock and suspicion! He had come from a ragtag travelling troupe, drifting from place to place for a livelihood without any permanent home. While he could not claim to have seen every peril the world had to offer, at least within this Dengtai Liyuan Troupe, everyone from his master down to his fellow disciples had long since perished in various ghost calamities. He alone had survived to this day! In times like these, surviving long was an ability in itself. Relying on his experience escaping multiple ghost calamities, he had realized long ago that the thing lurking in Daliang Village—the very thing that had wiped out all its villagers—was not the "gui" he claimed to the troupe, but a genuine ghost! If it were a gui, leading the troupe might have given him a slim chance to contend with it. But the entity in Daliang Village was a ghost. He could only coax the others into playing along with this opera, getting them to cooperate and attempting to carve out a path to survival for himself using their lives! He had made all kinds of arrangements. Success or failure hung entirely on the performance three days from now! Yet Chang Dafeng had never expected the ghost to come so fast! He had summoned his warding spirit, channeled the divine through his opera, and even deployed the ghost candle, yet he still could not repel the ghost possessing Gao Hongbo's corpse. Even after fighting to this point, he still could not be certain whether this ghost was truly the main culprit behind Daliang Village's ghost calamity! And right at this moment, another ghost had emerged from the right side room! Two ghosts barring his path—had he truly reached the end of his rope? The moment this thought arose, wild distractions surged in Chang Dafeng's mind, and the spirit and focus he had rallied suddenly drained away by half! Having walked the world for many years, he adhered to the principle of "never push things to the limit; always leave a way out." Naturally, he had left himself an escape route and still held trump cards he had not yet used. At any other time, in any other place, even if he encountered the dire predicament of two ghosts barring his way, he could have gritted his teeth and fought them with what breath remained. Yet it had to be now. It had to be at the exact moment when almost the entire troupe was gathered together that two ghosts came knocking on the door— If the two ghosts slaughtered the entire troupe and left only him behind, how could he carry out his escape plan? Without enough hands, they could not even perform *Zhong Kui Marries Off His Sister*. Had he not already reached a dead end! What was the use of keeping his trump cards in reserve then? Two jets of white vapor suddenly snorted from Chang Dafeng's nostrils. The knife-like, glaring baleful aura in his eyes abruptly dimmed! On the wall beside him, the Thunder God's shadow cast by the ghost candle instantly blurred and twisted, while across from him, the shadow of Zhao Gongming of the Black Tiger Dark Altar expanded further and further! Just then, amid the clamor of gongs, drums, and operatic singing, Chang Dafeng suddenly heard the door hinge of the left side room creak. Filled with despondency, he assumed Ding Ling had also turned into a ghost and was coming out to claim his life. As the hinge turned, Ding Ling's slender silhouette indeed emerged from the left side room. Her hands made no elaborate movements, nor did she strike any classic operatic poses. Her back was simply straight as a ramrod as she strode forward like a shooting star. The moment she left the left side room, she snatched a spear propped against the wall. Eyes bright as stars, she swept the spear straight toward "Li Yichun" across the way, who was dabbing tears with a sleeve. Parting her lips, a resounding, impassioned voice rang out: "Look ahead into the pitch-black void, 'tis surely the den of thieves— "I must charge onward and slay them till none remain!" The moment this operatic aria resounded, Chang Dafeng's gaze snapped sharp, and a shiver ran through him! From the corner of his eye, he saw a burst of command flags sprout behind the slender silhouette on the adjacent wall, instantly transforming it into a mighty general! The general adjusted armor, mounted a warhorse, and stepped forth to dominate the field! "Opera Spirit-Communion! "She hasn't even formally studied the *Draft on Making Up Gods and Painting Ghosts*, yet she sang an opera into spirit-communion all on her own! "What a girl! "Pity she's a girl…" Chang Dafeng slammed the brakes on his thoughts. The breath that had largely dissipated from his chest surged back up. Fixing his glare on Gao Hongbo's corpse, which now bore the painted face of Zhao Gongming, he opened his mouth and sang in a raspy voice: "Thrice wave the Five Thunders' command flag; let Thunder God and Heavenly Lord hear and judge! "Strike one shatters your crown, strike two blasts your blackened heart! "Strike three snaps your spine, strike four chars your hands and feet! "Leave but a human skin hung in the desolate wilds, for wild hounds to tear your limbs and crows to peck your brain!" *Boom!* With every line Chang Dafeng sang in the guise of the Thunder God, thunder seemed to crack through the void! After five thunderclaps, black smoke abruptly poured from the crown of the corpse bearing Zhao Gongming's painted face. Its rotting, foul-smelling flesh was blasted charred black by an invisible thunder, and it collapsed like a rotten wooden stump! *Thud!* The charred corpse crashed to the ground and shattered into pieces like brittle charcoal! Chang Dafeng stared at the charred fragments for several moments. Once certain it could not possibly rise from the dead, he turned his head to the right, just in time to see Ding Ling's wooden spear, its red tassel fluttering like wild clouds, smash down toward "Li Yichun," who still wore that charming, beautiful face! The wooden spearhead and half the shaft crashed solidly into the apparition! On the wall before her, the shadow of the general that had stepped forth to dominate thrust its spear forward into empty air— The beautiful face on Li Yichun's head suddenly widened its almond eyes as two streams of dark blood trickled from their corners! A dark, gaping bloody hole appeared between its brows. In an instant, that pretty countenance withered, bloated like a corpse, tore apart, and rotted away completely! Only Li Yichun's corpse remained, giving off a putrid stench as it stood stiffly in place. Yet its face was completely blank, devoid of any features. "They were merely two gui! "They nearly had me fooled!" Seeing Li Yichun's motionless, faceless corpse, Chang Dafeng let out a cold sneer. He glanced across at Ding Ling, who still seemed lost in the trance of the opera. Grunting under his breath, he did not order her around. Instead, he dragged Li Yichun's corpse into the courtyard, stacked firewood over it, doused it in lamp oil, borrowed a spark from the ghost candle, and set the woodpile ablaze. Burning a corpse was no easy task. Under normal circumstances, a few piles of dry wood could never burn Li Yichun's body to ash. Yet the fire kindled by the ghost candle's flame grew larger and larger in the courtyard, and in short order, Li Yichun was reduced entirely to ash. Only after burning the corpse did Chang Dafeng extinguish the ghost candle, now only a thumb's height, and return to the main hall. By this time, Ding Ling was sitting on an opera trunk, her profile turned toward him. Seeing Chang Dafeng enter, she turned to face the troupe leader and suddenly spoke: "Troupe Leader, just like that, only the two of us are left in the troupe… "If it were only a few gui, could they have killed so many of us all at once?" As Ding Ling asked, her eyes remained fixed on Chang Dafeng. As for whether the entity responsible for the supernatural disaster in Daliang Village was a ghost or a gui, Zhou Yang had long since reached a conclusion. The presence wandering Daliang Village right now was a ghost, one capable of emitting a ghost rhythm—not a gui wrapped in gui silk! Zhou Yang had already shared this discovery with Ding Ling. Her questioning Chang Dafeng now was truly a test—a test to see whether this troupe leader was worth trusting and whether she could continue cooperating with him. Chang Dafeng must have discerned the ghost's true nature as well. If he sincerely wished to cooperate with Ding Ling, he should at least refrain from concealing it any longer! Yet facing Ding Ling's inquiry, Chang Dafeng's expression did not waver. With a light scoff, he said, "Naturally they were gui! "If it were a ghost, forget the others—you and I would have already perished here!" Chang Dafeng spoke with absolute conviction and solemn certainty. Inwardly, Ding Ling let out a sigh. "They're just a few gui, no need to be overly frightened," Chang Dafeng said, his tone softening. "Today we were caught unprepared and ambushed by gui, which led to heavy casualties in the troupe. Next, I'll help you properly open the first gate of the *Draft on Making Up Gods and Painting Ghosts* so you can create a warding spirit. "With the two of us working together, the remaining gui won't be anything to worry about! "Once we make it out of this village, I will formally take you as my closed-door disciple and pass on my mantle to you! "Though this opera trade has never had a place for women since ancient times, you've done better than any of them. Breaking the rules once for you is nothing…" Chang Dafeng continued talking, painting grand promises for Ding Ling. Just then, from the right side room that had long fallen silent, a man's voice suddenly rang out. The voice was terrified to the extreme: "Shitou! Shitou! "Don't come for me, stay back— "I was wrong, I was wrong, Shitou… I shouldn't have pushed you down the mountain! For the sake of all the years I looked after you, please let me go… "There's no way all of us can make it out of this village alive! Couldn't you sacrifice yourself, use your life to pave a way for your uncle? Your aunt is still waiting for me outside, Shitou!"