"Are the two of us still sticking to the plan you came up with earlier, preparing for *Zhong Kui Marries Off His Sister* three days from now? Or, since it's just the two of us left, will we change to a different play?"
As roaring flames surged from Qian Heng's corpse, Zhou Yang caught the scent of burning joss sticks and paper money drifting through the air. He glanced at the extinguished ghost candle in Chang Dafeng's hand and asked aloud.
"We're staging *Zhong Kui Marries Off His Sister*, and that's that!" Troupe Leader Chang said decisively. "When the time comes, with our two warding spirits working together from within and without, even the horde of gui in Daliang Village won't be able to stop us!"
Even now, he stubbornly insisted that there was only a "horde of gui" in Daliang Village.
Not once did he mention that the entity responsible for wiping out the entire village was actually a higher-order "ghost."
Zhou Yang sighed inwardly.
He said to Ding Ling, "He knows full well there's a ghost in Daliang Village, yet even now he refuses to tell the truth. He's dead set on using our lives to pave a way out for himself."
"Do we have any other way out?" asked Ding Ling, who had been lurking in the shadows and listening to the conversation between Zhou Yang and Chang Dafeng for quite a while.
Zhou Yang hesitated before saying to Ding Ling, "If we stay with Chang Dafeng, we can only wait until three days from now to die senselessly in his place. I think we need to look for a chance to scout the village again. Even if we don't find anything, we can use the opportunity to slip out of Chang Dafeng's control. Daliang Village is exceedingly dangerous right now, of course, but if we flee inside, Chang Dafeng probably won't suspect for a while that you and I are hiding right there in the village.
"Moreover, the excerpt I taught you earlier managed to frighten off the ghost rhythm possessing Li Yichun, and you had never heard that piece before. The ghost might never have heard it before either, meaning it couldn't replicate it on short notice, which was why it was scared off. In life, this ghost must have been someone who loved opera deeply. It might have even been an actor itself—or perhaps it was the very patron who hired your troupe to perform here. By that logic, its family must have held considerable standing in this rural village. If we search for the finest compounds in the village, we might find the ghost's lair. Investigating it might just reveal a way out for you."
Everything Zhou Yang said was his own speculation. Although the ghost's earlier behavior seemed to corroborate his deductions, if there were even a slight flaw in his reasoning, Ding Ling would pay with her life. After all, they would be probing directly into the ghost's lair. If they came face to face with the vile ghost's true form there, their chances of survival would be slim to none.
Above all, where Ding Ling's way to survive lay was something Zhou Yang had no definitive answer to.
Yet Ding Ling trusted him implicitly. Hearing his words laden with phrases like "perhaps" and "might," she replied without hesitation, "Then once dawn breaks and I've learned the *Draft on Making Up Gods and Painting Ghosts*, we'll seize the chance to leave this place and search for the ghost's lair!"
"Mm," Zhou Yang murmured softly. "Let's hope everything goes smoothly."
***
Inside the main hall.
Ding Ling took the folding stool Chang Dafeng handed over, opened it, and sat down.
With his back to her, Chang Dafeng paced between the main hall and the side rooms to the left and right, rummaging through the items in several opera trunks. Finally, he carried over a small trunk and set it before Ding Ling.
He opened the small trunk, revealing a brilliant crimson costume inside.
"This full costume is for Zhong Kui. Official's hat, beard, red official robe, three-pointed collar, curved belt, padded jacket... everything is here, packed neatly inside." Chang Dafeng pointed at the costume inside the trunk and smiled. "Once you open the first door, the Opening Door, I'll dress you up in this gear."
"The performance isn't for three days. Why dress up now?" Ding Ling asked.
"Once the Opening Door is unlocked and the first warding spirit is formed, using opera to communicate with ghosts and spirits won't be a problem," Chang Dafeng said. "Once you're dressed as Zhong Kui, whether walking, sitting, or resting, you will be Zhong Kui through and through. You can burst into song at any moment to commune with spirits. That way, if the ghost comes again, you'll be constantly prepared, making it easier to escape."
An opera costume was bulky and cumbersome. Wearing one on stage and striking various postures already required years of practice, let alone walking around in it like everyday clothes. Ding Ling naturally understood that what the troupe leader said was only part of the story. His primary motive was to use this costume to encumber her, keeping her tied to his side so she couldn't run off. And while Chang Dafeng sounded gentle, his words brooked no resistance.
With that, the matter was settled.
Next, Chang Dafeng produced the god painting of unknown material that bore the *Draft on Making Up Gods and Painting Ghosts*. He turned it over to show the Eight Doors of Making Up Gods and Painting Ghosts on the reverse, spread it over another opera trunk, and weighed down the corner with an oil lamp.
Then, he once again brought out the ghost candle, now shorter by a finger's length.
"This ghost candle was hard to come by," Chang Dafeng said, looking at the candle in his hand with great care. "An ordinary person needs three or four strands of Right Thought to light it with their gaze alone. For your first time encountering it, to ignite it with the intent in your gaze is truly remarkable. Better than those dead fools."
Zhou Yang had told Ding Ling about the function of Right Thought earlier. Yet in truth, even Zhou Yang himself still did not fully understand what Right Thought actually was. Seeing the opportunity, and with Ding Ling feeling puzzled as well, she asked Chang Dafeng, "Troupe Leader, what is Right Thought?"
"For instance, when you suffer oppression and abuse, you resolve to resist. Yet two fists cannot match four hands, and when you are overpowered and humiliated once more, your chest still burns with fury, carrying the resolve to perish together with the enemy... That resolve is Right Thought.
"Or take how crooked fallacies abound in the world. Even when caught in the middle of those fallacies, manipulated and molded by them, you retain a measure of uprightness in your heart and hold fast to your own principles in your actions. When faced with life and death, an awakening is born. That awakening is Right Thought."
Chang Dafeng continued, "The more you are tempered at the precipice of life and death, the more setbacks you endure without breaking, the more Right Thought you can cultivate. In short, every time you face a life-or-death crisis without losing your head or betraying your true heart, you can gain a strand—or even two or three strands—of Right Thought."
Chang Dafeng's explanation of Right Thought was still not entirely thorough, but Zhou Yang understood it.
A passage he had read in the past came unbidden to mind: *A true warrior dares to face a bleak life, dares to gaze upon dripping blood.*
The courage to face bleakness and gaze upon blood—that was Right Thought.
The reason Zhou Yang had managed to nurture several strands of Right Thought was entirely because he was trapped in Guancun, dancing on a knife's edge. Life-and-death crises arrived without warning, which caused his Right Thought to grow far faster than Ding Ling's in her ordinary circumstances.
A "strand" of Right Thought, as Chang Dafeng called it, corresponded to a single point of Right Thought on the knife-credit ledger.
What would happen when Right Thought broke through nine to ten, exceeding the limits of ordinary mortals?
"How can you tell how many strands of Right Thought you've accumulated? And what good is having more of them?" Ding Ling followed up at the right moment.
"Right Thought can only be felt by yourself. I only guessed how many strands you have now based on this ghost candle. Or when two sides clash and unleash their techniques, each can naturally gauge the depth of the other's Right Thought." Since Chang Dafeng was about to open the first door—the Opening Door of the Eight Doors of Making Up Gods and Painting Ghosts—for Ding Ling, he held nothing back regarding her questions about the draft.
He extended his left wrist, placed three fingers of his right hand against his pulse, and said, "Place your hand on your pulse. Beyond the beating of your pulse, there will definitely be several other pulse-like throbs. For each throb like that, it represents one strand of Right Thought you've accumulated. Count them all up, and that's the total number of strands of Right Thought you currently possess."
Chapter 34