Working Puppet, Attack!

Shen Le was whipped twice by the Camphor Tree and scrambled away, shielding his head.

He returned to his room, pulled out his phone, and checked—well, the camphor tree is a hermaphroditic species. So, when a camphor tree becomes a spirit, is it a big sister or a big brother?

That was a question worth pondering...

However, let alone the fact that it was late at night and he had already made such a blunder, Shen Le wouldn't dare go back and pester it with questions the next morning.

He arrived right on time, clutching the Little Puppet as he ran toward the Heavenly Fragrance Restaurant. People were coming and going in front of the building, mutton was churning in the large pot by the door, and the Landlady was smiling as she served up big bowls of mutton noodles...

Everything looked like a normal noodle shop. As for last night—the way the lights went out and the fires were extinguished the moment people left, that quiet, eerie feeling—it felt as if it had all been a dream.

Shen Le entrusted Xiao Ling to the waitress, Xiao Yu. He watched her stand on the performance stage in the center of the hall, watched her manipulate the silk threads, and heard her begin to sing in a high-pitched, warbling voice. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed.

Wait, something was wrong!

She wasn't manipulating anything at all!

From start to finish, Xiao Ling was moving her own limbs and dancing on her own!

As for the singing, it wasn't the waitress singing either; there was a microphone clipped to her collar, and the microphone was playing a recording. It was clearly lip-syncing...

Wait, did they know this Little Puppet was alive?

Or were they all bewitched by the puppet?

Shen Le looked left and right, just about to find an opportunity to ask the Landlady, when a bowl of mutton noodles was placed on his table. He buried his head and picked up his chopsticks, but after only two bites, he felt something was off.

How did this mutton taste seven or eight grades lower than what he had eaten yesterday?

Although Shen Le was puzzled, the restaurant was bustling with a constant stream of people coming in to eat, and everyone from the Landlady to the waitresses was busy working without a moment's rest.

Besides, in terms of flavor, this bowl of mutton noodles was still quite good. The noodles were chewy, the broth was delicious, the sliced mutton was crystal clear, and the little bits of gelatin within the meat melted the moment they touched his tongue.

To say it wasn't delicious would only be in comparison to the bowl from last night; if placed anywhere else, it would easily beat every other restaurant on the street.

Shen Le put his thoughts aside and ate leisurely, picking at the noodles one by one and sipping on the sliced mutton occasionally. While he ate, he watched the Little Puppet dancing on stage, singing:

"Sister Xiaoqing, hold back your Longquan sword, and listen to my words, my husband, do not be afraid.

Your wife is not a woman of the mortal world; I am a snake immortal from Emei.

I only descended the mountain out of longing for the mortal realm, and came to the West Lake with Qing'er.

We met in the wind and rain upon the lake..."

Sigh, this is the 'Broken Bridge' act from the Legend of the White Snake. For this scene, the puppet's costume should be entirely white, or at most, white with a bit of blue embroidery.

This bright red outfit doesn't quite fit; I should buy her some new clothes later...

Also, the 'Broken Bridge' act requires Bai Suzhen, Xiaoqing, and Xu Xian to be performed properly; one puppet is a bit lacking.

When the customers thin out later, I'll talk to the Landlady and see if she can order another puppet.

Wait, what was that?

In his peripheral vision, he saw the customers throughout the restaurant nodding their heads, humming along to the tune, and tapping their fingers on the square tables in rhythm.

In a moment of distraction, Shen Le caught a glimpse of a rainbow-colored halo expanding from the Little Puppet. When it swept over Xiao Yu, it suddenly surged tenfold in intensity, enveloping the entire hall and even spilling out onto the steps outside.

As the halo passed, a very faint, thin, grayish-black gas was drawn out from the diners, strand by strand, and twisted into ash.

Even the passersby walking by the door, those peeking in through the glass windows, had their expressions soften. Those with furrowed brows, those sighing, those carrying hidden worries...

As they left the circle of light, their steps became much lighter, as if a heavy stone had been lifted from their hearts.

Shen Le blinked hard, but the halo vanished, as if it had been a hallucination.

The more this happened, the less Shen Le dared to act rashly. He ate his noodles quietly and observed with caution.

He ate while recalling the state he was in last night, silently circulating his energy. A warm current gradually rose, bringing him back to the visual state he had achieved while practicing the night before—that state of "empty room producing white light," where he could see everything clearly—and he observed carefully.

It was true. There was indeed a halo around the Little Puppet, expanding and contracting, expanding and contracting, sweeping away the black gas from the diners!

The diners clutching worn-out leather bags with troubled faces;

The diners tapping on their screens while eating, their faces full of irritability;

The diners grabbing two buns and rushing off, their shoulders hunched under the weight of their backpacks...

As the halo swept over each of them, the sorrow on their faces quietly diminished, or even faded away.

This was a good thing!

Shen Le watched quietly, not saying a word. By the time he finished his bowl of noodles, the crowd in the restaurant had gradually thinned. He stood up to leave, paused at the cash register by the door, and asked in a low voice:

"Landlady, where is the mutton here produced?"

"It's locally produced!" the Landlady said with a smile, her eyes full of pride.

"We use locally raised goats, only year-and-a-half-old lambs weighing sixty or seventy pounds. They drink lake water and eat clean grass, which is why it has such a good flavor.

We slaughter and butcher them fresh, then simmer them over a high fire. Aside from salt, we don't add any other seasonings!"

"Uh... then the mutton from last night..."

The mutton from last night didn't taste like this at all!

If it wasn't a local goat, could it have been Ningxia Tan sheep? Altay fat-tailed sheep? Or Inner Mongolian mutton?

Or perhaps it was some legendary specialty, produced only in a specific pasture with an annual yield of fewer than five hundred head?

"Last night's? That was brought in by the guest himself..." The Landlady pursed her lips into a smile, her eyes dancing. Shen Le froze for a moment, then realization dawned on him:

No wonder the guest had to give the word before he was allowed to eat it; it turned out it wasn't an ingredient from the restaurant's own stock to begin with.

When he continued to ask about the breed, the Landlady just smiled without answering, so Shen Le had to tactfully walk away. Seven or eight meters from the shop, he channeled his internal energy, straining his ears to listen:

The sounds of guests ordering, waiters responding, dishes being served, and opera singing—every sound drifted into his ears. After listening patiently for a good while, suddenly, a silver-bell-like giggle drifted from the kitchen far away:

"This little fellow is quite lucky. Rain Artisan is not something one can just eat whenever they please... We only get to eat it once a year, thanks to that lord's grace..."

Yu, Rain Artisan?

What kind of thing is that?

So, what exactly did I eat last night?

Shen Le racked his brain, searching through a pile of homophones, but after a long time, he remained baffled. Just as he was about to give up, he looked up and saw two acquaintances walking toward him with a rhythmic clatter:

Oh!

The Special Affairs Department duo!

What are they doing here?

If they were to charge headlong into the Heavenly Fragrance Restaurant, well, oh my... After they managed to create such a haunted-house atmosphere last night, what would they find if they walked in today?

Would it be like a thunderbolt striking a wildfire—no, like Yan Chixia crashing into Lanruo Temple?

Shen Le grew interested, turned around, and returned to the Heavenly Fragrance Restaurant, picking a corner seat to sit and watch the show with leisure.

To his disappointment, the Maoshan Taoist duo seemed quite familiar with the place; they nodded to the Landlady upon entering and even exchanged greetings with a few of the waiters.

Then, they... they...

Hey! You two, why are you heading toward my Little Puppet!