Night silently shrouded Wuyan Town.
The little town was unnaturally quiet. Not a single human voice could be heard, nor the crowing of roosters or barking of dogs. It was like a land of the dead.
House after house sank into darkness. The once-bustling streets lay empty and cold, with only the wind sweeping up fallen leaves from the ground and slapping them against the broken lanterns hanging beneath the eaves.
In the distance, mist crept in silently, carrying eerie murmurs and whispers.
The Sword Light drew in, and Wang Chen landed before the town's opera stage.
The stage stood at the center of town and had once been the townspeople's main place of entertainment, surrounded by taverns and teahouses.
At night, this place had once blazed with lights and teemed with voices, remaining lively until late into the night.
Now it was bleak and desolate. Thick dust blanketed the ground, while the windows of the small buildings beside it stood open, creaking under the wind.
Wang Chen looked around, then reached out and drew over a discarded chair from before a tavern.
A Cleanse Art cleaned the chair spotless.
He sat down facing the stage.
At that moment, the mist sweeping in from every direction invaded the town and swiftly advanced toward the opera stage.
The eight welcome lanterns hanging above the stage swayed a few times, then suddenly gave off a dim, ghostly glow.
Mist surged onto the stage. Behind it came the lilting tones of opera singing, followed by the sounds of strings and bamboo pipes.
A richly made-up female lead stepped onto the stage, swirling her cloud sleeves as she sang a sorrowful tale.
Wang Chen leaned back in his chair, watching the performers take the stage in painted faces, as though he had been drawn