Audience

After the Fierce Ghost was gone, it was as if the storm had passed, and everything returned to peace. Only the indelible marks on the stage spoke of the intensity of the recent battle.

Zhou Sheng suddenly closed his eyes.

In his mind, as the Fierce Ghost dissipated, an ancient, mottled Turtle Shell began to glow. Its mysterious, crisscrossing cracks seemed to foretell unfathomable heavenly secrets.

In the lower right corner of the Turtle Shell were two ancient and profound characters, as if the Heavenly Dao itself, all-encompassing, resided within.

"Luoshu."

This was his greatest secret, one that even his master, who had taught him Ghost Opera for sixteen years, did not know.

Both his past and present lives began because of this mysterious Turtle Shell.

"Huan... Danshan--"

Master Wu, seeing that everything had settled, wanted to step off the stage to speak with Zhou Sheng. However, what greeted him was a fierce and sharp gaze.

Marquis Huan glared, his killing intent so potent that Master Wu trembled in fear.

On the stage, Zhou Sheng stood tall, like a black iron pagoda suppressing a dark spring. After a moment, he steadied himself, swept the hem of his robe with a 'kicking python' move, then held one arm to the sky, planting the Snake Lance upside down.

"Heaven and Earth are bright! Righteousness--shall endure forever!"

"The evil villain is vanquished, Stage Breaking--success!"

Each word struck like a golden hammer on a chime, making everyone's hearts tremble.

They immediately realized that Zhou Sheng wanted them to cooperate and finish this Stage Breaking performance.

With a beginning and an end.

Xiao Shan, the Martial Actor dressed as a Spirit Official, reacted the fastest. He immediately performed a 'searching the sea, gazing at the moon' move and chanted in his operatic voice:

"Why must we need the wrath of a Vajra to subdue demons? One spear planted on the ground brings peace to all! Do not say that the Men of Yan are only reckless; we bow to uphold a pure world!"

"Stage Breaking is successful, please, Marquis Huan, return to your position!"

Except for the Green-Robed Actress who had fallen unconscious, everyone else also chimed in with a few lines, though their performances were subpar, clearly not at their usual level.

After concluding his pose, Zhou Sheng, carrying the Snake Lance, strode forward and stepped through the 'entering the image' curtain into the backstage.

Thus, the play Stage Breaking finally concluded.

Only then did everyone heave a sigh of relief, their hearts still pounding with lingering fear. They immediately went to tend to the unconscious Green-Robed Actress.

Backstage, in front of a bronze mirror, Zhou Sheng was removing his makeup.

As clear water washed over him, a handsome face gradually emerged, and his towering, pagoda-like body quickly returned to normal.

The divine strength that could tear tigers and leopards apart, the martial arts honed through a thousand trials, and the overwhelming killing intent all dissipated.

Zhou Sheng rubbed his temples, an unconcealable weariness on his face.

The deeper he entered the role, the higher his skill, but the greater the consumption of his mind and body. If the female ghost had lasted a few more moves, he might have been the first to collapse.

His Dao cultivation was still too shallow.

If he hadn't played Lord Bao first this time and seized the opportunity to sprinkle the incense ash from the altar onto the female ghost, severely wounding her, it was truly hard to say who would have won.

He hoped the gains from this time would help him improve his Dao cultivation.

"Danshan, you've worked hard. Here, wipe your face."

Master Wu beside him quickly offered a clean silk handkerchief, his expression respectful, a mixture of gratitude and awe.

Zhou Sheng wiped his face and then looked at himself in the bronze mirror.

Traces of blood red still lingered in his eyes, as if some blood vessels in his eyeballs had burst. His entire demeanor appeared extremely listless.

As if he hadn't slept for days and nights.

Playing Marquis Huan truly was a case of going too far if one wasn't careful. As his master had said, with insufficient Dao cultivation, it was best not to force it.

Seeing Zhou Sheng staring at the bronze mirror without speaking, Master Wu, thinking of something, asked nervously, "Danshan, is there something wrong with this bronze mirror?"

"Shen Jinhua always put on her makeup in front of this bronze mirror before each performance. Could there be some lingering remnant soul, hidden within this mirror?"

Zhou Sheng was taken aback by his words, then shook his head and chuckled, "The bronze mirror is fine."

Master Wu nodded, but he was still determined to get a new mirror tomorrow, to avoid bad luck.

Zhou Sheng could guess his thoughts, and for some reason, a sudden wave of melancholy washed over him.

Earlier, lost in the role, his murderous intent and killing aura had made him impervious to any external matters. Now, having regained his clarity, he recalled Shen Jinhua's last words before her soul scattered.

At first, she had cursed and roared with all her might, but as the Yin energy dissipated, she gradually calmed down.

Before vanishing, she shed tears and sang a passage.

"You say my tears in the opera are fake like a cuckoo's cry, how do you know the blade's edge on this stage... is truly cold?"

"Oh, Marquis Huan! As your hand descends with the blade...

Can you distinguish--

Which black silken thread is Dou E's binding?

Which drop of blood is my soul passing through?"

Shen Jinhua was indeed a renowned actress in Yangcheng's troupe. Even Zhou Sheng was moved by her sorrowful and heart-wrenching singing. He lamented the passing of such an outstanding Green-Robed Actress.

She left behind her final swan song for this world.

"If June snow cannot cover my innocent bones— Why force me to spend half my life in makeup... playing Dou E..."

This was not Dou E's accusation, but Shen Jinhua's plea for justice.

Dou E had blood splattered on white silk, June snow, and a three-year drought to vindicate her. But what did Shen Jinhua have?

To this question, Zhou Sheng could only remain silent.

Having studied acting for sixteen years, he understood the difficulty of this path all too well. How many beatings and hardships must one endure to become a star?

But even if one became a star, what did it amount to in this cannibalistic world?

"Danshan, this is a small token of my appreciation. Please don't think it's too little..."

Master Wu took out a plate with five silver ingots, each weighing ten taels, totaling fifty taels.

This was a considerable expense for a troupe that had been closed for a long time and was already struggling financially.

Zhou Sheng had to admit that Master Wu was quite generous.

Fifty taels of silver, according to the prices in this world, was equivalent to over a hundred thousand yuan on Earth.

"Master Wu, does Shen Jinhua... have any family?"

"Yes, but after receiving the compensation, they all left. I heard they went to Yangzhou."

Zhou Sheng nodded, then accepted forty taels of silver, leaving one ingot behind.

"Leave these ten taels for the unconscious Green-Robed Actress. Help her buy more medicine to replenish her qi and blood."

The woman had been possessed by a ghost, which had already damaged her vitality. Coupled with her miscarriage, she likely wouldn't be able to perform for a long time.

Without these ten taels, she would probably have a hard time surviving.

Zhou Sheng couldn't stand by and watch, so he left ten taels. But he wasn't a saint, so he only left ten taels.

Not too much, not too little. If she was frugal, it should be enough to help her through this difficult time.

"Danshan is righteous. You truly are Old Master Yu's esteemed disciple!"

Master Wu quickly praised him.

Zhou Sheng merely looked at him quietly, the residual killing intent in his eyes flickering slightly.

"You understand the rules of the Ghost Opera profession. No one dares to embezzle our money."

Master Wu's smile froze, and he quickly nodded.

He had indeed harbored some selfish thoughts just now, but under Zhou Sheng's warning, they vanished completely.

The evil spirits were gone. Once the opera house reopened, they could continue to make money. There was no need to provoke a Ghost Opera Performer for ten taels of silver.

He knew very well how eccentric and dangerous these Ghost Opera performers were.

They could help you catch ghosts today, and turn you into a ghost tomorrow.

Not to mention, the blood on Old Master Yu's hands back in the day was so much that even a basin as large as a millstone probably couldn't wash it all clean.

A moment later, Zhou Sheng walked out of the backstage area. The people around him looked at him with awe and curiosity.

Many tried to strike up a conversation, but Zhou Sheng ignored them and walked straight towards the audience seats.

The seating area was empty, with no audience members.

But Zhou Sheng stopped in front of a seat in the back right, cupped his fists, and bowed to the empty space.

His calm voice carried a hint of solemnity.

In fact, amidst the solemnity, there was a trace of nervousness... a nervousness he hadn't even shown when facing fierce ghosts.

"Old sir, the play has ended, yet you have not left. Do you have any advice?"