The sun shone high overhead.
The stretch of jagged rocks was lit to a dazzling white.
Across the glaring white rocks, two figures walked one ahead of the other, picking their way unsteadily over the stones toward the river ahead.
High as the sun was, it could not add a single degree of warmth to the air.
Wind swept in from the far bank, chilling a person to the bone.
On the rocks, the one in front was got up in the guise of a boudoir maiden, wearing a full set of bridal garments—only, no red bridal veil covered his head, so Chang Dafeng's old face, still bare of its makeup, showed plainly.
Behind Chang Dafeng, the one dressed as Zhong Kui was, of course, Ding Ling.
The Ding Ling of now walked with limbs that would not bend, her gait like a corpse's.
Her head drooped, her small face pale.
Nor was there any light in her eyes.
By now, a grayish pallor had also settled over Chang Dafeng's face, and that face of his was like a dead man's, without any vitality.
His left sleeve hung down limp; as his steps shifted, the arm within the sleeve swayed along with the motion, and a reek of corpse stench spread from that empty sleeve, curling back and forth between the two of them.
When they reached the river, Chang Dafeng opened his robe, baring an upper body of ribs standing out in two neat rows.
His skin was a dark, sallow yellow, but the arm joined to his left shoulder showed an unnatural, ashen green-gray.
It was as though that arm had already 'died.'
As he exposed the left arm to the air, the corpse stench grew ever heavier.
He plunged the left arm into the river water and scrubbed at it ceaselessly, trying to wash away the rot that gave off that stink, but the more he did so, the stronger the corpse stench became.
The water-soaked arm gave off a rot that carried a fishy, briny tang as well.
At last, with a long, low 'Ai…', Chang Dafeng dragged the arm—now soaked white and bloated from the water—out of the river.
He sank down onto a large boulder, turned his head toward Ding Ling, who stood stiffly behind him, and said, "I never would have thought it…
"that a chit of a girl like you could have hoarded up such lofty Right Thought?
The moment you opened your door, your Opening Door warding spirit was actually able to hold off my Opening Door baleful force!"
Earlier, when Ding Ling opened the door and created her curse, Chang Dafeng had planted that 'Opening Door baleful force' upon her warding spirit.
He had meant to use this to control Ding Ling, but he never expected that his Opening Door baleful force would have no effect whatsoever on Ding Ling.
To seize Ding Ling, he too had spent considerable effort and suffered heavy losses.
—Even an arm had been fed into a ghost's belly.
Ding Ling kept her head down and said nothing.
Her gaze was flat, with no emotion within it.
"What's this? That proud spirit of yours before—running off, vowing you'd sooner die than come back—how is it you've gone all wilted now?" Chang Dafeng gave a sneering laugh. "Just as if your sweetheart had died—
"Your spirit broken all at once, and your very soul lost too?"
At this mockery, Ding Ling's brows shot up at once, her almond eyes wide and glaring: "You're the one whose sweetheart died!"
Although the troupe leader had fastened the 'Rest Door warding spirit' onto her, leaving her unable to resist, he had at least granted her the freedom to speak.
"But I'm a man—I can't go having a sweetheart, now…"
Chang Dafeng said this, but his gaze turned distant.
He lowered his head and mused for a while, then went on: "You women are always like this, so easily ensnared by matters of the heart.
"That's why I say… women can never accomplish anything.
"How did such lofty Right Thought end up on a woman like you?"
Lament colored his every word, and it annoyed Ding Ling greatly.
She herself did not think there was anything wrong with being a woman.
The troupe leader's words struck her as utterly baffling.
But what was the point of arguing such things with the troupe leader now?
Ding Ling suddenly thought of someone, and it was as if a hole had opened in her heart, all her strength of spirit draining out through that gaping hole; she lowered her eyes again, her expression turning listless.
"Girl, why do you keep wanting to run off?"
Chang Dafeng's expression softened. He pointed to the far bank and said to Ding Ling, "I told you all long ago—there's no escaping this place.
"Once across this river, that counts as leaving Daliang Village, doesn't it?
"But look at the far bank—what's the scene over there?"
Ding Ling did not look.
In fact, she had observed it before: the far bank looked exactly like this side.
—The far bank was like this side's mirror image.
Whatever was here, the far bank had too.
Even every move the two of them made, Ding Ling and Chang Dafeng, was mirrored on the far bank.
"See?" Chang Dafeng gave a knowing chuckle and went on, as if to himself. "You crossed the river by the bridge over there and reached the far bank—you thought that meant you'd escaped the ghost village…
"But in truth, the far bank is the same as this side.
"All the pains you took to make that enormous circle—you've only ended up circling back!
"Right now it's just as if a ghost has clouded our eyes.
"Flee outward like this, and you'll never escape the village—and you'll be all the more likely to rouse that ghost. Now do you understand what I mean?"
When he finished speaking, he watched for Ding Ling's reaction.
Seeing Ding Ling standing there dull and unresponsive behind him, paying his words no mind at all, Chang Dafeng burst out in exasperation, "Do you not want to live?
"Listen to me, and you can stay alive!"
Ding Ling remained unmoved.
Chang Dafeng's tone softened. "The one in Daliangzi Village now truly isn't a gui.
"Nor is it some pack of gui.
"On this matter, I truly did deceive you—but if I hadn't done it, you'd probably all be scared witless, scurrying about like headless flies, and that would only get you killed faster!"
As he spoke, he studied Ding Ling's expression.
Seeing a light kindle in Ding Ling's eyes, as though she had finally taken an interest in his words, he hurried on: "I deceived you for your own good.
"This time, listen to me. As long as you trust me, I guarantee you'll leave this village alive…"
Ding Ling's gaze grew brighter still.
Yet her expression only tightened, turning more solemn.
Chang Dafeng assumed she was resentful that he had deceived her and concealed the opera ghost's true level; even now that he had told the truth, there was no way she could be free of resentment in her heart.
What he did not know was that, just then, another voice had risen in Ding Ling's heart.
"Ding Ling!"
At that person's call, Ding Ling's heart abruptly warmed.
Instinctively she was about to answer, but then, at some thought or other, her face suddenly went cold and she made no sound.
She would just pretend that person's calling did not exist.
Yet she also feared that if she truly gave no response, that person would vanish in an instant, just as before; and so her heart was torn between doubt and hesitation, and brimming with grievance, heaving up and down, never able to find peace.
"Ding Ling, stop spacing out—wake up!"
The person called out to Ding Ling once more.
He only supposed that Ding Ling was dazed and had not come back to herself; how could he know Ding Ling's true thoughts?
Ding Ling wanted to make him understand her heart, but did not know where to begin; and so her chest grew ever more stifled and pent-up. But at just this moment, the person, of all things, began reciting a passage of opera lines to himself.
And Ding Ling had scarcely heard the very first line before every ounce of grievance in her heart dispersed like smoke.
The person recited:
"A thousand wrongs, ten thousand wrongs—every one is your husband's fault alone!
"You… you… you… you… you… won't you just forgive me…"
Chapter 51