The Injustice to Dou E

Stage Breaking was usually an exorcism ritual performed after an opera troupe suffered a major accident.

Strictly speaking, Stage Breaking was not a play. One actor played a ghost, while the others played spirit officials, Divine Generals, and the like, wielding whips to drive away the ghost. They would also slaughter a live chicken and sprinkle its blood across the stage.

The entire process had to take place at midnight.

This was a rule of the opera world. For thousands of years, most troupe masters had believed in it deeply. Only if the Stage Breaking succeeded and drove away the Unclean things could the troupe continue performing.

"Master Wu, Stage Breaking is about to begin. There are some things you should tell us now, such as that Green-Robed Actress who died onstage."

Before the bronze mirror of the dressing table, Zhou Sheng filled in his cheeks with red cinnabar as he spoke.

Master Wu immediately grew nervous at his words, his gaze darting away.

Zhou Sheng was in no hurry. As he painted his Face Paint, he said mildly, "Since you know my master, you should know the rules of our profession."

After a pause, his swordlike brows, outlined in heavy ink, stood sharply upright. Beneath the crescent moon of righteousness upon his brow, his eyeliner appeared especially keen, carrying the edge of a drawn blade.

"If you conceal anything, then once we enter the play, anything... could happen."

Lord Bao had an iron face and impartial righteousness. Once he entered the play, if he discovered that Master Wu had committed evil, the dog-head guillotine could behead not only evil ghosts, but living men as well.

Clearly, Master Wu understood the rules of Yin Opera. His body trembled slightly, and he no longer dared hide anything.

"Danshan, it isn't that I meant to conceal it. It's just that this matter... is far too strange!"

"The dead Green-Robed Actress was called Shen Jinhua, but I absolutely did not harm her. Jinhua was the money tree of our troupe, our star performer. Once she died, wasn't I the one who suffered the greatest loss?"

"Don't be anxious, Master Wu. I never suspected you. But I must first know exactly how the Green-Robed Actress named Shen Jinhua died."

Zhou Sheng soothed the agitated Master Wu. His gaze softened as he continued questioning him.

Master Wu steadied his emotions as well and laid out the entire chain of events.

The Green-Robed Actress named Shen Jinhua had performed with the Yangcheng Opera Troupe for seven years. She was beautiful and had an exceptional singing voice, the undisputed pillar of the troupe.

She specialized in Green-Robed Actress roles, and her finest play was The Injustice to Dou E. Whenever she performed it, every showing was packed to capacity, with applause filling the hall.

More than a month ago, Shen Jinhua had performed that play again.

Everything was normal during the earlier scenes. Shen Jinhua truly deserved her reputation as Yangcheng Opera Troupe's star performer. Her heartrending, mournful voice and flowing movements soon drew wave after wave of applause.

Especially when she reached the section of Dou E's oath at the execution ground: "If the resentment in my breast should burst forth like fire, then surely I shall move the six-petaled ice blossoms to roll down like cotton, so my corpse need not be exposed..."

Her voice, like clouds veiling the moon, climbed higher and higher. Accompanied by the tragic, desolate notes of the sanxian, it was truly like a cuckoo crying blood, every word piercing the heart.

When her final drawn-out sorrowful note ended, the applause crashed down like mountains and seas. Many people were moved to tears.

The next scene was Dou E being beheaded by the executioner. Her blood was not meant to fall to the ground, but instead splash crimson across three feet of white silk, bringing snow in the sixth month.

But something utterly unexpected happened.

At the very moment the executioner brought down his blade, Shen Jinhua, who should have dodged and fallen, suddenly froze in place for some unknown reason.

And somehow, the fake blade had become a real one.

Together with the beautiful woman's flying head came blood more tragically vivid than blooming azaleas, spurting forth like a spring.

Amid countless terrified screams, the shock in Shen Jinhua's eyes gradually turned hollow.

The fake blade had become a real blade. The fake play had become a real play. The fake Dou E had become the real Dou E.

Only this time, the splashing blood did not merely stain the white silk red. It covered the entire stage.

"After that, the troupe became increasingly unsettled. Before long, Da Cheng, who had played the executioner, died miserably in his home. The stagehand responsible for managing the backstage props also went mad and hanged himself half a month ago."

Even though much time had passed, everyone backstage still felt lingering fear when speaking of it, as though even the air had turned especially cold and sinister.

The Cinnabar Brush in Zhou Sheng's hand paused slightly. Though this was not the first time he had dealt with such strange matters, he was still a little surprised.

"After the executioner and the stagehand died, did the troupe continue to be haunted?"

"It did! And it only became fiercer!"

The Green-Robed Actress who would play the female ghost tonight suddenly shivered. In a trembling voice, she said, "Once, I was practicing my voice at home. When I looked up, I discovered that the person in the bronze mirror was actually... Sister Jin!"

Xiao Shan, the Martial Actor, also said fearfully, "I had sleep paralysis once. I woke up in the middle of the night and found an embroidered shoe beside my bed. When I looked closely, it vanished. I was so frightened that I didn't dare sleep for three days!"

"And Old Duan found a huge clump of a woman's hair in his wine while drinking..."

A glint flashed through Zhou Sheng's eyes as he caught a trace of something amiss.

Logically speaking, the culprits behind Shen Jinhua's violent death onstage were none other than the executioner or the stagehand who managed the props.

After Shen Jinhua killed those two and avenged her great wrong, she would generally have two choices.

The first was for her resentment to dissolve, allowing her to reincarnate.

The second was to become a Fierce Ghost and slaughter people without number.

Yet the truth was neither. Shen Jinhua had neither let go of her resentment nor begun a killing spree. Her frightening of Xiao Shan and the others was more like... a test.

A test to see whether they were truly the culprits.

And that meant Shen Jinhua's departed soul was absolutely certain that the true murderer who had killed her was not the executioner or the stagehand.

Master Wu sighed. "Afterward, I invited monks and Daoists to perform rituals, but none of them worked. Left with no other choice, I could only ask Old Master Yu to intervene."

Zhou Sheng nodded, and his expression returned to an ancient well without ripples, exceptionally calm. It was as though all emotion had gradually been stripped away, leaving only the Cinnabar Brush in his hand, tracing faces and painting patterns.

His technique was extraordinarily practiced. Hooking, outlining, dotting, brushing—his movements flowed like clouds and running water, so deft that even veteran opera performers could not help but marvel.

Most remarkable was the air of utmost reverence around him.

Painting a face was like judging a case. Every stroke was law itself, carrying an almost obsessive seriousness.

In mere moments, the refined and handsome young man vanished, replaced by Lord Bao, the painted-face role upon the stage.

Heavy ink laid down the foundation that settled heaven and earth; red cinnabar split glaring eyes to paint loyal fury.

A black face like night suppressed demons and monsters; white markings, like a guillotine, divided right from wrong.

"Master Wu, begin the play."

Zhou Sheng's voice began to change as well, becoming low and hoarse, as though he had become another person in an instant.

He closed his eyes as he put on his costume, as though brewing something within himself, yet his hands did not make the slightest mistake.

"Danshan, which play shall we perform?"

Master Wu asked quietly. After putting on his Face Paint, Zhou Sheng seemed to have gained an invisible majesty that made Master Wu unconsciously lower himself.

Zhou Sheng remained silent with his eyes closed, as though he had entered some strange state, and did not answer for a long while.

Seeing this, Master Wu could only grit his teeth and order the gong struck to begin the play, signaling them to first proceed with the usual Stage Breaking ritual.

Clang!

In the midnight theater, the sound of a gong suddenly rang out.

Though the Green-Robed Actress playing the female ghost was afraid, under her troupe master's repeated urging, she still forced herself to slowly step onto the stage.

Cloudlike sleeves covered her face as she recited in a mournful voice:

"Moon cold, waters chill, my soul has nowhere to rely; a lonely grave and wild spirit await the returning lamp—

Borrow three parts of a living man's breath, and reignite the ashes within this concubine's bones~"

Her drawn-out tone was soft, smooth, and winding, rich with charm. When she finished the final word, her water sleeves suddenly swept down, revealing a deathly pale face and cinnabar-painted lips.

That single appearance alone displayed the depth of her skill.

By then, Zhou Sheng had changed into his costume. He still stood backstage with his eyes closed, but his ears caught every stir of wind and grass upon the stage.

This Green-Robed Actress had considerable skill. Stage Breaking was not a play, and everything depended on improvisation. For her to perform like this despite her nerves showed her standard.

And yet such a Green-Robed Actress had always been suppressed by the star performer Shen Jinhua, reduced to a supporting role. That showed just how profound Shen Jinhua's skill had been.

What a pity.

Then those playing spirit officials and Divine Generals stepped onstage one after another. Following the ritual, they began beating gongs and drums, scattering chicken blood, setting off firecrackers, and relentlessly driving away the female ghost.

No one knew how long this continued. The performers were already gasping for breath, yet Zhou Sheng still had not gone onstage.

As though he were waiting for something.

Finally, another quarter of an hour passed. Just as everyone was about to collapse, the surrounding candle flames suddenly swayed, and several went out.

An indescribable chill spread through the air.

The next moment, the "female ghost" who had been constantly fleeing across the stage suddenly stopped. Chicken blood had splashed onto her face and slowly trickled down her powder-covered cheeks.

Those pitch-black eyes stared silently at the "spirit official" pursuing her with chicken blood.

Then, the sound of a sanxian suddenly rose. That familiar tune made everyone's faces change dramatically.

The Injustice to Dou E!

Backstage, Zhou Sheng abruptly opened the eyes he had kept shut for so long. In that instant, his gaze was stern as lightning, like a bright mirror hung high, reflecting the figure of the white-clad female ghost.