Shu Wanjuan paced several circles through the willow grove and shook his head at the Blood Tooth Monster. "I truly cannot tell which willow is the entrance."
The Blood Tooth Monster took out a powder compact and touched up her makeup. Although she tried her best to muster a smile, she couldn't hold back a few words of complaint: "It's been days already, Old Shu. Have you even been looking with any effort?"
Shu Wanjuan sighed. "You've seen how many willows there are in this garden. Every single tree has to be tested one by one. This is by no means an easy task."
The Blood Tooth Monster retorted, "If you knew it wasn't easy, why did you have Old Shan do it? What did you tell Old Shan back then? You told him to keep a Divination Cultivator by his side, and that given half a day, he would definitely find the place! And what happened? Old Shan and Little Ji both threw their lives away here."
Shu Wanjuan grew displeased. "Shan Chengjun was killed by Li Qi. Can you really pin that on my head?"
The Blood Tooth Monster dug her heels in. "If you ask me, it really does belong on your head. The mechanisms were crafted by your grand-disciple. Instead of coming to crack them yourself, why did you send Shan Chengjun?"
Shu Wanjuan sneered. "And if we had sent Shan Chengjun to seize the Wisdom-Karmic Scholar's remains, could he have managed it?"
The Blood Tooth Monster had wanted to bring that up as well: "I still don't understand—what is the point of taking the Wisdom-Karmic Scholar's body? Did Qiao Yi ever say he wanted the Wisdom-Karmic Scholar? If the four of us had come together to take the covenant deed, could Li Qi really have finished us all off?"
Shu Wanjuan shook his head. "There are things you don't understand, and I wouldn't be able to explain them to you anyway."
The Blood Tooth Monster put away her compact, eyeing Shu Wanjuan askance. "Right, I'm stupid, I understand nothing. I reckon you've already found the entrance, you just don't want to tell me, and there's nothing I can do about it!"
Shu Wanjuan flicked his sleeves, glaring at her. "Are you going to be reasonable or not?"
The Blood Tooth Monster put her hands on her hips, tossing her head back with a laugh. "Oho, the Scholar Cultivator Patriarch is angry! Does this humble maiden need to apologize to you? Need I kowtow? Or should I fetch a ferule myself so you can give me a beating?"
Shu Wanjuan didn't care to bicker with her. Seeing dusk approaching, he turned and left the Willow Tree Garden.
The Blood Tooth Monster followed behind, muttering complaints: "Where are you going? Isn't night the best time to get things done? Why do you take off the moment it gets dark?"
Without turning his head, Shu Wanjuan replied, "I am not adept at night combat."
"Well, I am! I'm best at fighting in the dark. Don't believe me? Let's find a place later, pull up the quilt, and I'll fight you to the bitter end!"
Disgust written all over his face, Shu Wanjuan hastened his pace. As he reached the street, the sound of gongs and drums caught his ear, and he abruptly halted.
By the roadside stood a red sandalwood stage, a row of candles embedded along its edge. In the flickering candlelight, the curtain was drawn back, and a bearded xusheng puppet, suspended by silk strings, was lowered onto the stage.
Behind the stage, two musicians bowed strings and struck percussion. With a clatter, the troupe master stepped on the five-tone clapper, and the backdrop on the red stage flipped to reveal a vista of green mountains.
The string-suspended xusheng began to sing:
"The brush traces dragons and serpents as the battle formation unfolds;
A thousand armies meet their doom, leaving not even bones behind!"
Clang! Crash-clatter!
Another puppet was lowered onto the stage—a martial wusheng in full armor, brandishing a long saber as he shouted insults into the fray:
"The long saber shreds ten thousand volumes of books;
A sweeping blade severs the head from your neck!"
Clang! Crash!
The battle on the stage commenced.
Shu Wanjuan watched with rapt attention. The Blood Tooth Monster couldn't resist asking, "What is so fascinating about this? Isn't it just a string puppet show?"
Indeed, it was a string marionette show. A three-foot red stage stood at the front, with two musicians and a troupe master behind it. Blowing, bowing, plucking, singing, and acting—all rested on these three people.
Some people genuinely loved puppet theater, while others simply enjoyed opera but couldn't bring themselves to spend money at a theater hall, so they satisfied their craving by watching roadside marionettes.
The Blood Tooth Monster looked down on such crude entertainment from the bottom of her heart and couldn't understand why Shu Wanjuan was so captivated.
Could there be something unusual about this troupe?
Or perhaps there was something special among the spectators?
In truth, there was something she did not know: this play was titled Contention Between Scholar and Warrior, recounting a fierce battle fought long ago between Shu Wanjuan and Shan Chengjun. The two had waged a life-and-death clash, and their story had been passed down to this day.
Today, the names of the protagonists had changed, and the plot differed greatly from what had actually transpired.
Yet whenever Shu Wanjuan saw this play, he still felt a fondness for it. He watched with total absorption, tossing a few coins onto the stage every now and then as tips.
Beside the stage stood a teahouse. The Blood Tooth Monster glanced up at the second floor and dabbed her lips with a handkerchief, transferring the rouge from the corners of her mouth onto the fabric.
A man with two trails of snot hanging from his nose nodded to her.
This snot-nosed man was Glue Cultivator Patriarch Qi Wujian, and every move she made had been clearly visible to him.
He pinched a line of snot from his nose, dropped it into a teapot, mixed it with tea, and shook it, preparing to splash the potful down to the street below.
If this tea were truly thrown down, the three members of the puppet troupe and everyone watching on the street would be glued fast to the ground.
Regardless of whether he succeeded, he would have to leave the teahouse immediately; doing this would definitely offend Shu Wanjuan, and he knew full well he was no match for him.
Yet he had thought too far ahead.
Just as Qi Wujian prepared to splash the tea, the handle abruptly grew scorching hot. Wisps of blue smoke billowed from his palm, burning clean through the glue and searing into flesh.
He hastily slammed the teapot back onto the table and looked at his palm.
The flesh was charred black, and on the scorched skin Qi Wujian could faintly make out the character "Burn."
This was the technique of a Scholar Cultivator.
Qi Wujian glanced down from the teahouse.
Shu Wanjuan was still engrossed in the puppet show, seemingly never having moved from his spot.
Did he just strike?
Qi Wujian didn't believe he had revealed any flaw. How had Shu Wanjuan detected him?
Scanning the second floor, Qi Wujian found no familiar faces. He hurried downstairs and settled his bill.
As the teahouse waiter came over to clear the table, a man holding a pipe in his mouth stepped in front of him. "Lad, I'm buying this teapot. Leave it be."
The waiter blinked. "Sir, what are you..."
"If you can't make the call, have your shopkeeper name a price. I'm taking this teapot." With that, Boss Lu covered the teapot with one hand.
It was he who had inscribed the character "Burn" just now, scalding Qi Wujian's hand.
As Qi Wujian reached the outside of the teahouse, Shu Wanjuan suddenly glanced at him.
Qi Wujian dared not make a sound. Keeping his head down, he hastened away, the burning pain in his palm growing increasingly intense.
Shu Wanjuan continued watching the show, paying Qi Wujian no further mind. He already knew the man was in Moxiang Shop.
The Blood Tooth Monster poked Shu Wanjuan from behind. "If you want to watch opera, let's go to a theater house. Can't you afford a ticket or something? Let's hurry back and rest."
Back at the inn, the Blood Tooth Monster ordered a table of wine and dishes, intending to share a couple of cups with Shu Wanjuan first and then warm his body up for him.
To her surprise, Shu Wanjuan merely ate a few bites before returning to his bedroom and turning in early.
At dawn the next day, Shu Wanjuan bought a newspaper in front of the inn. Upon reading it, he was consumed by fury.
The headline blared: Scholar Patriarch Strikes, Glue Patriarch Severely Wounded; When Two Tigers Fight, Who Will Claim the Deer?
It was Moxiang Weekly again, Shao Yingzhen's paper once more. Shu Wanjuan carried the newspaper straight into the Blood Tooth Monster's room.
The Blood Tooth Monster yawned. "Coming to see me this early—feeling swollen and uncomfortable after waking up?"
Shu Wanjuan slapped the newspaper down in front of her.
The Blood Tooth Monster glanced at the article, looking troubled. "I don't recognize all these characters. Does it say you had a fight with the Glue Cultivator Patriarch?"
Shu Wanjuan demanded, "How did Shao Yingzhen come to know of this? And how dare he publish such a thing in the paper?"
The Blood Tooth Monster looked at Shu Wanjuan. "You ask me, but who am I supposed to ask? I didn't even know when you fought the Glue Cultivator Patriarch!"
"I never even—" Shu Wanjuan wanted to say he hadn't crossed hands with Qi Wujian at all, but the words died in his throat.
The Blood Tooth Monster sneered. "Are you hiding things from me again? You tell me nothing, and whenever something goes wrong, you vent your anger on me. Is that proper? This newspaper was put out by Shao Yingzhen. If you take issue, take it up with him; if you've got strength to spare, use it on him. If you have the guts to kill him, I'll even count you as a real man!"
"Fine!" Shu Wanjuan gritted his teeth. "I'll go find him."
Leaving the inn, Shu Wanjuan did not head to the newspaper office. Instead, he wandered aimlessly through the streets, unsure of where he ought to go.
Today's snowfall was heavier than before. He could not see the road ahead clearly and had even forgotten which street he was on.
He truly hadn't fought Qi Wujian yesterday; he had merely looked up at him from below the teahouse.
What had occurred yesterday had made the papers today. Had Qi Wujian told Shao Yingzhen himself? What benefit would that bring Qi Wujian?
The article claimed Qi Wujian was defeated at Shu Wanjuan's hands. Would Qi Wujian invent a lie just to humiliate himself? Why would he do such a thing?
Perhaps Shao Yingzhen hadn't reported the truth and simply fabricated it?
Had he lost his mind? For the sake of a single scoop, did he dare offend the patriarchs of two distinct paths?
If Qi Wujian hadn't told Shao Yingzhen, then who else could it have been?
The snow fell thicker and thicker, and Shu Wanjuan's vision grew increasingly blurred.
Could he not see clearly?
Could he truly not see?
With a sweep of his sleeve, a row of the character "Umbrella" manifested, shielding him from the driving wind and snow ahead.
Seeing clearly was not truly difficult. It was just that sometimes, he chose to blindfold his own eyes.
Yet if he didn't blindfold himself, what choice did he have? If he saw too clearly, he feared he wouldn't be able to survive!
Yesterday, besides himself and Qi Wujian, the Blood Tooth Monster had also been present.
The Blood Tooth Monster had pretended not to see Qi Wujian, but could she really have missed him?
She pretended to know nothing, yet in truth, she knew a great deal.
Shan Chengjun had died at Li Qi's hands. She knew this, and so it made the papers!
The various heroes and masters had gathered at Moxiang Shop. She knew this, and that too made the papers!
Why was it that whatever the Blood Tooth Monster knew inevitably ended up in the newspaper?
A minor figure like Shao Yingzhen could never have hitched himself to Qiao Yi. The one truly allied with Qiao Yi was the Blood Tooth Monster—she was Qiao Yi's subordinate, a person of the imperial court!
The one pulling Shao Yingzhen's strings from the shadows was the Blood Tooth Monster!
It was she who was orchestrating the various factions behind the scenes, including Shu Wanjuan and Shan Chengjun.
Shu Wanjuan and Shan Chengjun plotting over He Jiaqing's thirteen territories—she knew.
Shu Wanjuan colluding privately with He Jiaqing—she knew.
Shu Wanjuan and Shan Chengjun harboring ambitions to crown themselves kings—she knew.
Going further back, of the many dealings between Shu Wanjuan and Shan Chengjun, she knew them all.
And if she knew, that meant Qiao Yi knew.
Qiao Yi knew everything, yet he had said nothing. What fate awaited Shu Wanjuan in the future?
A gust of snow-laden wind scattered the characters floating in the air.
Shu Wanjuan's vision blurred completely.
At dusk, disheveled and dead drunk, Shu Wanjuan swayed on his feet with every step as he returned to the Willow Tree Garden.
He did not walk inside the grounds; he only wanted to watch another puppet show beside the garden.
After waiting over an hour, the troupe arrived beside the Willow Tree Garden, pushing their mobile stage.
Once this performance was over, Shu Wanjuan intended to leave Moxiang Shop, yet he had no idea where he could go.
He certainly couldn't return to the Shang State; Qiao Yi would surely execute him.
He couldn't stay in Puluo Province either; the peddler would never spare him.
Where else could he go?
To the Outer States?
To Wansheng Province?
With a clash of cymbals, the curtain drew open on the three-foot red stage, and the marionette show began.
Shu Wanjuan wrote the character "Conceal" upon himself and vanished from amidst the crowd.
The snow was heavy today, so spectators were few. Shu Wanjuan had no desire to be seen; he only wanted to watch this performance in peace from start to finish.
The beats of the drums and gongs grew dense and rapid as the Scholar Patriarch and Martial Patriarch prepared for their first confrontation.
Just as Shu Wanjuan was watching intently, he faintly sensed a surge of yin energy closing in.
Loosening the brush tip that had frozen stiff inside his sleeve, he allowed ink to drip onto the snow and wrote the character "Eye."
This "eye" skimmed across the snow, darting in all directions, and soon spotted the silhouette of Chang Jiuhai. The yin energy sensed earlier had radiated directly from him.
What had brought him here?
Now that Chang Jiuhai was here, were there others as well?
Shu Wanjuan wrote over a dozen "Eye" characters in succession, and before long, he caught sight of Qi Wujian as well.
What did the two of them intend to do?
Shu Wanjuan could easily deduce it. Going by the Blood Tooth Monster's reasoning, this puppet troupe was bound to be unusual. These two patriarchs intended to capture the troupe alive and would likely silence all the bystanders watching the show.
Fine then! Bringing the fight right to my doorstep!
Shu Wanjuan gritted his teeth and closely observed the movements of Chang Jiuhai and Qi Wujian.
The two headed straight for the stage. With no allies waiting in support around them, it proved they hadn't noticed Shu Wanjuan yet.
If Shu Wanjuan intervened now, he had more than enough certainty to take care of them both.
Yet could he make a move right now?
They presumably took orders from the Blood Tooth Monster, and she answered to the imperial court. If he struck now, it would be tantamount to breaking with the court.
Given his current plight, hadn't he effectively broken with the court already?
Was there truly no room left for reconciliation?
Amidst his hesitation, several dozen ghost servants around Chang Jiuhai had already closed in on the puppet stage.
Shu Wanjuan clenched his fists, then suddenly felt someone approaching from behind the stage.
This person was unusual, carrying a pungent stench.
Drawing on decades of experience, Shu Wanjuan swiftly backed away from the stage. He saw a youth carrying a bucket sprint to the front of the stage, brandish a long-handled ladle, and fling a spray of glistening golden liquid over the horde of ghost servants.
Coated in night soil, the ghost servants stood frozen for a moment before scattering in pandemonium.
The onlookers couldn't see the ghost servants, but they could see the night soil and smell the stench. Pinching their noses, they bolted for their lives, running even faster than the ghost servants.
The puppet performance on the red stage ground to a halt. The troupe master cried out in horror, "Young master, what are you doing?"
Little Genzi barked fiercely, "Get far away from here!"
The troupe master knew the boy was no ordinary person. They tried to push their cart and flee, but the wheels were glued tight to the axles, unable to turn.
"Where do you think you're going?" Qi Wujian manifested, giving Little Genzi a faint smile.
Chang Jiuhai did not reveal himself; Genzi could only hear his disembodied voice: "Boy, are you tired of living?"
Qi Wujian chuckled. "Practicing such a repulsive path, he's certainly lived long enough."
Chang Jiuhai said, "If you're tired of living, jump into a cesspool and drown yourself. Why come here to sicken everyone?"
Little Genzi showed no fear. Leveling his ladle at Qi Wujian, he snapped, "Who are you calling repulsive? Wipe your snot before you speak!"
"Craving a taste? I'll gladly bestow this snot upon you!" Qi Wujian wiped a glob of mucus and flicked it straight toward Genzi.
Genzi scooped up a ladle of night soil from the bucket to block it, only to find the ladle stuck fast inside.
Qi Wujian was a patriarch, after all; he hadn't merely hurled mucus, but had applied another technique to glue Genzi's ladle into the bucket.
The mucus flew toward Genzi's face. If it truly struck, it possessed enough adhesive force to rip the flesh clean off his skull.
Genzi was not quick enough to dodge. Just as the snot was inches away, a spray of snow surged from the ground and engulfed the mucus.
The snot roiled within, threatening to burst free at any second.
Snowflakes swirled in midair, coalescing into a single character: "Ice."
Clatter!
The snot froze into a solid lump of ice and dropped to the ground.
"What an impressive Scholar Cultivator technique!" Qi Wujian exclaimed in praise. "Old Shu, is that you?"
Shu Wanjuan made no response; indeed, this was not his technique.
A man walked out from the willow grove. Short in stature and slender in build, he had closely cropped hair, an eight-shaped mustache, and held a smoking pipe in his hand. He flashed Qi Wujian a smile.
Qi Wujian frowned. "Zhou Badou? Striking a senior without even a greeting? You've grown increasingly undisciplined!"
Boss Lu did not answer. Inhaling deeply to burn through the remaining tobacco in his pipe, he exhaled a puff of smoke that merged with the drifting snow, encircling Qi Wujian.
Qi Wujian laughed. "Zhou Badou, did you switch paths? Are you supposed to be a Smoke Cultivator or a Cold Cultivator now?"
Drawing in a breath of chilly air, he sneezed. The flying droplets of saliva glued the surrounding snowflakes together, causing them to drop to the ground. Yet while the snow fell, the smoke did not; swirling around Qi Wujian, it condensed into the character "Poison." Virulent venomous smoke surged directly toward his nose and mouth.
This was not easy to evade. Qi Wujian spewed snot to seal his nostrils and mouth, while Chang Jiuhai dispatched two ghost servants. Each took a deep gulp, inhaling the toxic vapor clean away.
These two ghost servants were genuine Smoke Cultivators, handling smoke with effortless mastery.
Qi Wujian glared toward Chang Jiuhai, reproaching him for acting so late.
Such was Chang Jiuhai's temperament: until he had confirmed his opponent's capabilities, he would not intervene rashly.
Little Genzi was merely a ground-level Gold Cultivator whom Chang Jiuhai didn't even care about, but Zhou Badou was no simple target, and Chang Jiuhai needed to observe a bit.
He only sent out ghost servants while keeping himself concealed. By his calculations, having Qi Wujian lead the charge while his ghost servants supported from behind would suffice to defeat Zhou Badou; there was no need to take personal risks.
Qi Wujian didn't bother arguing with Chang Jiuhai. Kneading two clumps of glue, he was about to charge at Zhou Wencheng when a figure flashed past his eyes.
Thud!
A dull sound echoed across the snow.
Qi Wujian stood frozen in place, unable to move a muscle.
Chang Jiuhai was shocked. Only now did he realize that besides Zhou Badou and that boy, someone else was present.
Why had Qi Wujian stopped moving?
Unable to discern the reason and relieved that he had not yet revealed himself, Chang Jiuhai prepared to stall a while longer with his ghost servants.
This would buy Qi Wujian some time; if Qi Wujian could recover, consider it his good fortune. If he couldn't, he could hardly blame Chang Jiuhai for abandoning him.
Chang Jiuhai unleashed more than twenty ghost servants to surround Boss Lu.
Boss Lu parried the ghost servants as he casually unrolled a scroll of bamboo slips. The scroll consisted of twenty-five slips, and from each slip leaped an armored soldier brandishing a longsword, charging straight at Chang Jiuhai.
Chang Jiuhai hastily dodged in panic. He hadn't expected Zhou Badou to see him.
Yet these twenty-five armored soldiers were astonishingly fast and remarkably skilled. Constantly adjusting their formations according to Chang Jiuhai's movements, they cut off every avenue of escape, leaving him no chance to break away.
Chang Jiuhai was baffled. His concealment technique was superb; if Zhou Badou could locate him, perhaps it was deduced from the movement of the ghost servants.
But why could these armored soldiers see him too? Weren't they merely ink figures created by Scholar Cultivator techniques? How could mere ink figures possess such wits and prowess?
After struggling to hold them off for a moment, Chang Jiuhai stumbled and abruptly crashed to the ground. As he scrambled back up, he finally realized where the problem lay.
His body was glowing. Though the faint specks of light were subtle, they were distinct enough to reveal his exact position to anyone around.
Was this Tou Youlu's Holding Torches in the Night?
In Chang Jiuhai's memory, Holding Torches in the Night was an exceedingly obscure technique; among the Travel Cultivators above the clouds, he had never heard of anyone practicing it. Could Tou Youlu himself have arrived?
Plop!
Lost in thought, Chang Jiuhai tumbled again. Struggling to get up, he collapsed right back onto the snow.
He was in utter disarray now. The moment he tried to rise, he immediately fell. After over a dozen attempts, he still couldn't stay on his feet. Not only was it impossible to fend off the twenty-five soldiers, but Genzi even rushed up and swung a ladle at him; Chang Jiuhai failed to block it, taking a direct hit right on top of his head.
Chang Jiuhai had brought over five hundred ghost servants—how could he swallow such humiliation?
Leaving two hundred ghost servants to hold off the armored soldiers, he sent the remaining three hundred swarming forward to slaughter Zhou Badou first.
The ghost servants pounced, only to be splattered with black ink—this Zhou Badou was not his true body.
Unable to kill Zhou Badou, they would kill the Gold Cultivator first.
Regrouping, the ghost servants lunged at Genzi. Suddenly, a figure flashed past Chang Jiuhai. His body convulsed violently, and with two loud bangs, he detonated twice in rapid succession, instantly losing control over his ghost servants.
Out of control, the ghost servants were unwilling to approach Genzi and stood dazed where they were.
Chang Jiuhai realized he had been struck by Viewing Flowers from Horseback, but could not fathom why he had detonated twice.
Could Tou Youlu truly have arrived?
Amidst his stupor, the ink splattered across the ghost servants gathered together, coalescing into the character "Kill" that slammed violently onto Chang Jiuhai's body.
Without even uttering a whimper, Chang Jiuhai was smashed into a heap of mangled flesh and blood.
Standing beneath a willow, Li Banfeng lit a cigarette, tears streaming down his face.
And just like that, the Demon Cultivator Patriarch was gone.
In the past, Li Banfeng had wondered why these patriarchs, harboring such bitter grievances against the peddler, hadn't fought to reclaim their pride instead of choosing seclusion.
Now Li Banfeng understood: it wasn't that they didn't want to fight, but rather that there were vast disparities between one patriarch and another.
Chang Jiuhai's combat strength was noticeably inferior to that of Song Qianhun and Gui Jianchou; whether he could even defeat Yuan Youshang remained doubtful.
Having lived in seclusion for too long, he had forgotten his own weight. No matter how many chips the Inner Province had promised him, the business here in Moxiang Shop was not something he had any right to meddle in.
After his weeping passed, a shower of gray dust rained down from the sky.
The out-of-control ghost servants drifted in bewildered confusion, unsure where to go.
Boss Lu unrolled a blank book scroll, caressed the pages for a moment, and swept all five hundred-odd ghost servants into the book.
Only after the area was cleaned up did Qi Wujian finally break free from the technique of Self-Imposed Confinement.
Boss Lu pointed at the book in his hands. "Will you step in on your own, or wait for me to take you?"
Qi Wujian yelled, "Zhou Badou, you are not worthy to speak with me! Call your master out! You and I aren't even of the same generation!"
As the words left his mouth, Qi Wujian flung a sheet of sticky sweat, gluing the book in Boss Lu's hand shut.
It had to be said that compared to Chang Jiuhai, Qi Wujian possessed far greater combat prowess, capable of trading blows with Zhou Wencheng for several bouts.
Yet as the two clashed, Qi Wujian's body abruptly split apart.
Boss Lu had no idea what technique Qi Wujian had fallen victim to. He only saw the man's left hand wrench left and his right hand wrench right, brutally ripping himself in two.
Two new rooms had been added to the companion dwelling: one from Treating Everyone as Invisible, and one from Five Horses Dismembering the Body.
Five Horses Dismembering the Household originated from Body and Shadow Comforting Each Other; even without relying on his shadow, Li Banfeng had always torn enemies apart by brute force.
Now, combined with the technique of Rushing About Hither and Thither—compelling the opponent to actively assist in dismembering themselves—this technique was finally complete.
Tears flowed from Li Banfeng's eyes once more. As the gray dust settled, he cast a glance in Shu Wanjuan's direction.
Shu Wanjuan had never made a move, merely standing quietly in the snow.
It wasn't that he couldn't fight. Shu Wanjuan knew he had no chance of victory, but he could have stalled for time until the Blood Tooth Monster brought reinforcements, and the situation might have turned around.
Yet what would have been the point?
Could his situation truly be turned around?
Li Banfeng leaned against the willow, smoking silently.
Boss Lu packed fresh tobacco into his pipe and struck a match.
When both had finished smoking, they departed one after the other.
Genzi picked up his bucket and left as well.
Shu Wanjuan bent down and picked up the bearded xusheng puppet from the ground.
He tugged at the silk strings, and the puppet's limbs twitched.
Carrying the puppet, he walked behind the red stage to return it to the troupe master.
The troupe master was scared out of his wits and dared not take it.
Shu Wanjuan placed the marionette beside the stage, then stumbled away into the wind and snow.
Chapter 816