A white boat blocked the way, and paper figures welcomed the guests.
Under the moonlight, everyone in the Southern Branch Troupe was deathly pale.
Troupe Leader Zhao Qigong glanced at the Head Steward beside him. The old man, already half in his grave, immediately understood and hurried from the bow into the cabin, though no one knew what he had gone to fetch.
The fleet had been stopped.
Or rather... they had already reached their destination.
That ghost had come out to "welcome" them.
"Dock the boats!"
At Zhao Qigong's shout, all eight boats, one large and seven small, began to move.
"Brothers! This time, either its soul is destroyed, or you and I all go to the Yellow Springs together!"
"Bring all your gear!"
Zhao Qigong shouted into the night with all his strength.
His voice had considerable power to stir people's hearts, but before that enormous white paper boat and the densely packed paper boys and girls, it seemed rather feeble.
Rather than fighting for a chance to survive... they simply had no choice at all.
On the musicians' boat, Qin Manjiang glanced at the Old Drummer and asked, "Why do we have to perform for a ghost?"
The Old Drummer stroked his drum and sighed. "Because our troupe wronged her first..."
"If we can't fulfill this last wish of hers, we'll only die even worse deaths."
He had finally spoken!
Qin Manjiang struck while the iron was hot and continued, "Who is she? What last wish?"
The Old Drummer glanced at Qin Manjiang, and something suddenly changed in his dim old eyes. He reached out and stroked Qin Manjiang's head. "Xiao Qi, you were never such a clever child..."
Qin Manjiang immediately sensed trouble, but before he could react, the Old Drummer suddenly pinched a tendon at