Behind the white curtain, figures began to appear. Strangely, though, apart from the overlapping sounds of instruments, the only noise onstage was the creaking of feet against the wooden boards. There were no voices.
It felt as though the ghost opera was still being prepared and had yet to begin, as if... it were waiting.
Jiang Cheng soon realized what it was waiting for. One by one, charred figures walked stiffly over to him, found their seats, and sat down.
Throughout this, Jiang Cheng remained tense. He could clearly feel several hostile gazes roaming over his back, as if they wanted to devour him alive.
As the last figure took its seat, the curtain made of white linen slowly drew open. The next second, a deep gong sounded, and the ghost opera began!
The lights above, which had been flickering on and off, all went out. In their place, dozens of white candles sprang to life around them, casting a ghastly glow.
By their light, Jiang Cheng noticed that he was the only one in tonight's audience who cast a shadow on the ground.
As expected, it was a ghost opera. He was the only living person among the audience.
On the rough, makeshift stage, several people in opera costumes took their positions. Accompanied by a brief, rapid drumbeat, they began to sing in high, wavering voices.
Jiang Cheng didn't know much about opera, but even he could tell something was off. The rhythm was wrong, and the actors' makeup was strange.
No matter what makeup an actor wore, their face all had a sickly green cast.
At first, Jiang Cheng instinctively assumed the actors were ghosts too. But he soon realized the situation wasn't that simple. Their eyes were dull, yet through them, he could still see the actors'