Xiao Ran watched the figures draw closer. They walked and danced as they came, beating the snake-skin drums at their waists to a lively rhythm.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The sound was not loud, but it rang with extraordinary clarity through the mountain forest, seeming to travel an immense distance on the cool breeze.
From a mountain stream in the distance came a woman's high, clear cry: "Ah~~~ ya-ya~ ah~~"
"Whoosh!!"
As the cry faded, a huge bonfire suddenly blazed to life on a distant mountainside.
Its light illuminated the slope. Then, starting from the bonfire, countless sparks lit up one after another, winding up the rugged ridge like a fire dragon illuminating the night sky.
Just then, a chorus rose from the distant ridge, its voices suddenly soaring to their peak. "Oh—hey—hooo!!!"
The song was deep and mournful, with the rough simplicity of Qin opera. It carried the resolve and reverence of people offering their lives to nature at the dawn of creation.
In an instant, the trees and plants, birds and beasts around him echoed the hoarse song with a clear rhythm.
Even the venomous snakes beneath the bushes swayed their bodies to the beat.
By then, the black-cloaked figures had gathered around Xiao Ran. Only now could he make out their faces.
Their dark faces were covered in a thick layer of mud and ash, while crooked lines of white lime had been drawn across their cheeks. They circled Xiao Ran, beating out the rhythm on their drums.
Xiao Ran's body seemed to be moving forward in time with the drums, entirely of its own accord.
What was this supposed to be?
An illusion?
No, why did it feel like... a spirit-summoning ritual?
Xiao Ran's mind was perfectly clear. He knew that none of this could be real.