Ghost Opera

In the summer of the Thirteenth Year of Yuanshou, at the hour of Zi.

The night was deep, and all was still, yet the Yangcheng opera troupe's lights flickered, and the faint sound of vocal warm-ups and singing could be heard.

The stage was empty, but the backstage of the opera troupe was crowded.

Martial Actor, Green-Robed Actress, Flower Dan Actress, Old Scholar Actor, Clown Face Actor...

Though it was late at night and the audience was nonexistent, they had all painted their faces and donned their costumes, practicing their lines as if preparing to go on stage. Yet, a hint of unconcealed nervousness lingered in their eyes.

"Troupe Leader, according to the rules of Stage Breaking, the time has come. Aren't we going to start the opera yet?"

After a long wait, a Martial Actor couldn't help but ask. He was the bravest in the troupe, but the midnight opera house seemed particularly eerie and cold, causing his voice to tremble almost imperceptibly.

"Wait."

The Troupe Leader, who was at the forefront, spoke only one word, but it was resolute.

He was a middle-aged man, the only one not in costume at the moment. He looked to be in his forties or fifties, dressed in a gray long gown, with a determined face and a calm demeanor.

"We've already waited an hour, Troupe Leader. The expert you invited, I'm afraid they're not coming."

"Or perhaps we can break the stage tomorrow?"

The Green-Robed Actress, dressed as a female ghost, spoke softly, her eyes filled with resentment and fear.

Out of so many people, she was the one who had drawn the lot to play the ghost.

"If the opera troupe stops for another day, we won't just lose money, but also our reputation."

The Troupe Leader shook his head and refused. "We've already been idle for over a month. If this continues, the opera troupe won't be far from disbandment."

Hearing this, everyone lowered their heads in silence.

More than the fear of ghosts, they were equally afraid of poverty. If the opera troupe didn't perform for a day, their pockets would grow emptier, and they would soon be eating away at their savings.

After a long silence, a weak voice sounded.

"Troupe Leader, we all treated Sister Jin well when she was alive. She shouldn't..."

"Silence!"

Upon hearing the name, the calm Troupe Leader's expression instantly changed. He glared fiercely at the Green-Robed Actress, clenching the yellow talisman hidden in his palm.

Not only him, but the others also had varied expressions. They quickly glanced around, unable to hide their nervousness.

Just then, the Martial Actor gasped and shouted, "A ghost! There's a ghost!"

Everyone quickly looked, and their hair stood on end.

Under the dim lights of the stage, a figure was slowly approaching.

What was terrifying was that in such a quiet environment, it felt like even a falling needle would make a sound, yet they couldn't hear the slightest footstep.

They landed silently, like a phantom.

Just as they thought it was a ghost and prepared to flee for their lives, a clear voice rang out from the darkness.

"Apologies, I encountered some bandits on the road and was delayed."

It was a man's voice.

He slowly emerged from the shadows, the candlelight illuminating a pair of clear, bright eyes. His face was handsome, and his long hair was casually tied with a green ribbon. Though he hadn't reached adulthood, he didn't appear disheveled.

The man wore a dark robe with a green sash, standing tall and elegant. In his hand, he carried a large box about three feet long.

The troupe members first looked at the man's feet. When they saw that he had a shadow, they finally breathed a sigh of relief.

According to folk legends, ghosts have no shadows, so this person must be human.

They realized that this seemingly very young man was likely the expert the Troupe Leader had invited.

However, the Troupe Leader frowned, confused. "You are?"

The young man slowly put down the box, cupped his fists, and said, "I am Zhou Sheng, courtesy name Danshan. My master has retired from performing Ghost Operas and, upon receiving Master Wu's letter, sent me to help."

Upon hearing this, Master Wu quickly bowed, his voice filled with respect and warmth.

"So you are Master Yu's esteemed disciple! 'Paulownia flowers stretch ten thousand li on the Danshan road, a young phoenix's cry is clearer than an old phoenix's song.' Danshan, what a fine name!"

"You're not late. Please come backstage quickly. Xiao Shan, why aren't you helping our honored guest with his box?"

Xiao Shan, the strongest Martial Actor, stepped forward, smiling as he went to take the large box from Zhou Sheng's feet.

However, when he tried to lift it with one hand, it wouldn't budge. He had to use both hands to barely lift it.

Zhou Sheng didn't refuse. He walked directly towards the backstage, heading straight for the statue of the Patriarch worshipped by the opera troupe. He respectfully offered incense.

According to the rules of the opera industry, anyone who performs must first pay respects to the Patriarch upon entering the backstage.

"Zhou... Brother, you're also an opera performer?"

Xiao Shan, the Martial Actor, struggled to carry the large box in and placed it on the ground with a muffled thud.

He panted slightly, looking at Zhou Sheng with a strange expression.

This person had just carried such a heavy box without making any sound?

"Of course, Ghost Opera is also opera. This is my opera box."

Zhou Sheng opened the opera box in front of everyone.

Generally speaking, opera performers have opera boxes, and often more than one. They usually have four: the Costume Box, the Helmet Box, the Miscellaneous Box, and the Prop Box.

The Costume Box is mainly used to store costumes and accessories; the Helmet Box stores helmets, wigs, and other headwear, as well as various false beards; the Miscellaneous Box holds makeup palettes and the head ornaments for Dan roles; and the Prop Box contains all sorts of weapons and props used by characters on stage.

However, Zhou Sheng's opera box was completely different.

A large box was divided into four sections by wooden boards, each holding many props, mostly used by Sheng and Jing roles.

The fabric of the costumes was exquisite, made of the finest brocade silk. The wigs were black and shiny, even smoother and more lustrous than real hair.

But what attracted Xiao Shan the most were the weapons inside.

Sabers, swords, golden whips, and a snake lance.

Especially the snake lance, which was placed in three sections. In the candlelight, it reflected a cold and hard metallic sheen.

These were actually real weapons, not the props they usually used for their performances!

Zhou Sheng held the three sections of the snake lance in his hands. With a flick of his palm and two crisp metallic clangs, a snake lance about eight feet long appeared before everyone's eyes.

It was about eight feet long, as dark as a black dragon rolling over, as chilling as a black snake flicking its tongue. The spearhead had two extremely deep blood grooves, with a solidified dark red color.

Xiao Shan seemed to smell the metallic tang of fresh blood. He stared intently at the snake lance, suddenly recalling what Zhou Sheng had said when he first arrived.

"Sorry, I ran into some bandits on the road and was delayed."

Zhou Sheng hadn't mentioned the bandits' fate, but the answer seemed self-evident. The bloodstains on the snake lance, like those on the other weapons, were real.

"Danshan, are we performing Marquis Huan tonight?"

Master Wu looked at the snake lance and couldn't help but ask, but then he quickly shook his head.

Because Zhou Sheng had already begun to sit down and paint his face.

He picked up the cinnabar brush and began to draw in front of the mirror. First, he laid down a base with thick ink, then used bright cinnabar to outline the crescent moon on his forehead.

Once the crescent moon appeared, one knew it was Lord Bao.

"Tonight, we're performing Lord Bao."

Zhou Sheng's voice was still very calm, his tone clear and resonant, lacking the powerful depth needed for a painted-face Lord Bao.

Xiao Shan frowned, wanting to remind him of something, but was stopped by a look from Master Wu.

In Lord Bao plays, the crescent moon on the forehead should not be drawn perfectly centered; it should be slightly slanted. This was a rule to prevent vengeful spirits of the wrongly deceased from mistaking the actor for the real Lord Bao and coming to seek justice.

But the crescent moon Zhou Sheng was painting was perfectly centered, without the slightest deviation.

Suddenly, the words "Ghost Opera" popped into Xiao Shan's mind.

Could it be that this so-called Ghost Opera was actually meant for ghosts?

That's why he deliberately drew the crescent moon centered... to invite ghosts to seek justice?

Thinking of this, he shivered abruptly. His heart began to race, and a vague sense of foreboding arose.

Tonight's "Stage Breaking" performance would likely be difficult.

Brothers, I'm back!

For the past six months, besides work and rest, I've also been actively preparing for this new book and gathering materials.

The Yingge Dance, God Parade, Drunken Lord Guan, and that online video of the White Crane Boy killing the Ghost Mother all gave me great inspiration. Combined with my expertise in traditional tales of the strange and mythological elements, this book came to be.

I hope you will enjoy this story.

The update schedule remains the same: noon at 12 PM and 6 PM.

It's not easy for newcomers, so please support this tender little newbie! Sending love!