Gazing into the Mirror

The eight large characters on the page bled into a pool of ink, sending ripples spreading across it.

Zhou Yang's consciousness suddenly plunged into those ripples. Darkness surrounded him.

He had the sudden sensation that he had plunged into the sea and was hurtling toward the bottom-

In that instant, a jumble of images and memories flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern.

He suddenly saw a mirror.

A mournful operatic voice came from within it. Zhou Yang leaned closer and saw himself in the mirror, his body covered in gaping "ghost mouths" that spewed cold ghostly qi, which drifted everywhere without any discernible pattern.

Zhou Yang's reflection vanished in an instant, but the singing continued without pause.

A female ghost dressed in bloodstained white appeared in the mirror.

Threads crisscrossed around her, weaving into a net.

The net kept spreading outward.

Spreading in layers.

Spreading beyond the mirror.

That net...

Chang Dafeng's warning flashed through Zhou Yang's mind:

"An old folk saying goes, 'Puppet threads, ghostly ripples.' It means that a puppet gives off a threadlike qi. That qi holds the puppet up, making it look like a puppet in a puppet show...

"But if the qi around it looks like the rings of a tree or ripples on water-in short, if it keeps circling around it in rings, then it's a ghost!"

Puppet threads, ghostly ripples...

The qi around that ghost was like a net, encircling her in ring after ring...

She was a ghost!

Not a puppet!

As his consciousness sank completely into darkness, a thought in Zhou Yang's mind suddenly boiled over!

The mournful singing washed over him, sweeping through his every thought: "My lord dwells in my loving heart, while I am left with a breaking one; the moon alone knows my wounded feelings...

"Meeting is hard, parting easy, ah; now all that remains is regret too late;

"Do you recall the joy we shared that day, like phoenixes together..."

"Ding Ling!"

A man's voice, deliberately pitched high, suddenly came from behind Ding Ling.

Perhaps the voice was too shrill, for Ding Ling thought she heard an echo ringing in her head.

The echo was low, somewhat like her benefactor's voice.

Ding Ling held a woodcutter's knife and gazed at the black water in the vat, where her solitary figure was faintly reflected. Her expression dimmed, and she turned to glare at the man who had called her name.

Though the person was a man, he wore rouge and powder.

Though he wore men's clothes, he had a pair of embroidered shoes on his feet.

The shoes were exceptionally small, yet they accommodated his feet.

He was Li Yichun, the performer of female roles in the opera troupe.

Seeing Ding Ling's gaze, Li Yichun rolled his eyes irritably. He walked with graceful steps and curled his lip. "You little brat, you dare glare at me? Believe it or not, I'll slap you.

"Hurry up and follow me!

"What are you standing there in a daze for?

"If you waste everyone's time, can you take responsibility?!"

"You're the one who wasted all that time. How can you blame me?

"We're just gathering firewood, but you had to paint your face. I say you're making eyes at ghosts-" Ding Ling raised her chin and fired back at Li Yichun without giving an inch.

"Hey-" Li Yichun, who had already walked ahead of her, turned back, raised an eyebrow, and glared at Ding Ling. "Since you rendered the troupe a great service last night, I won't lower myself to your level!

"Come on, let's go gather firewood. Dally any longer and the troupe leader will deal with you according to the rules!"

Ding Ling wrinkled her nose and gave a soft snort. She stopped bickering with Li Yichun and followed him, carrying her knife.

The two walked side by side toward the courtyard gate.

Li Yichun edged closer to Ding Ling.

He gave her a suggestive smile and blinked at her. In a soft, delicate voice, he asked, "Hey, Ding Ling, the troupe leader must have passed his true teachings on to you last night-that Opera Communion with Spirits method, right?

"Tell me, what exactly is that Opera Communion with Spirits method like?"

Seeing a man's face preening and posing right in front of her made Ding Ling sick.

She edged away in disgust, putting more distance between herself and the man who had come from a male brothel. She replied:

"The troupe leader said anyone who wants to see the Opera Communion with Spirits method can go straight to him.

"I'm not allowed to breathe a word of it to anyone.

"If anyone tries anything underhanded with me, the troupe leader's 'rules' certainly won't spare them!"

"You wretched girl!"

Li Yichun cursed bitterly.

He was about to say something else when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and saw Gao Hongbo, who played painted-face roles in the troupe, striding over with a firewood basket on his back and a sickle in his hand.

"Oh, Brother Gao!

"Didn't the troupe leader tell you to go with him to set up the stage at the drying ground?"

Li Yichun brightened and hurriedly greeted the man approaching them.

"He said he didn't need my help after all. He can manage on his own. So I'll go out and gather firewood with you.

"After all, Lao Heng and Little Stone are both men, and they have the strength for the work. You two aren't strong, so climbing the mountain and going through the woods to chop firewood would be harder on you." Gao Hongbo replied with a good-natured grin, his voice somewhat hoarse.

Hearing this, Li Yichun beamed like a flower. "Oh my, if you ask me, Brother Gao is the kindest person in our troupe. Now that something so serious has happened, we'll have to rely on you from here on out.

"Brother Gao, you must look after me."

"Heh, of course, of course..." Gao Hongbo readily agreed.

Ding Ling followed Li Yichun's lead and greeted Gao Hongbo as well. "Brother Gao."

She had previously been a general helper in the Lampstand Opera Troupe, far removed from the "stars" who could perform onstage.

Ordinarily, they had only exchanged nods. They were nowhere near as close as Li Yichun and Gao Hongbo, performers of the same standing.

"Ah, Ding Ling..." Gao Hongbo hurriedly answered. His mouth opened slightly; he clearly wanted to say something more to her-

But Li Yichun tugged at him and blinked at him.

"The troupe leader has rules. He won't let her talk about it.

"You'd best save your breath. There's no point asking."

It was now obvious what Gao Hongbo had wanted to say to Ding Ling.

-He had only wanted to ask her about the Opera Communion with Spirits method.

Gao Hongbo smiled, and the look he gave Ding Ling suddenly cooled.

He turned instead to speak quietly with Li Yichun.

The two walked shoulder to shoulder in front, and before long, Ding Ling had fallen behind.

The two ahead glanced back at Ding Ling from time to time. She did not know what they were saying about her in private.

Ding Ling pressed her lips together, her face taut and serious.

The people of Daliang Village had lodged the Lampstand Opera Troupe in this abandoned courtyard.

The old courtyard stood on a hillside at the highest point in Daliang Village.

Standing on the slope, Ding Ling looked down at dilapidated houses with broken roof tiles and rammed-earth homes, packed among the gullies and ridges below. They sprawled and scattered like the broken veins of a leaf.

Though figures moved among the houses, the village remained deathly silent, devoid of any liveliness.

She felt utterly alone as well.

Unable to help herself, she called softly in her heart, Benefactor? Benefactor...

Will you come back?

"Haven't I come back?" A man's voice suddenly rang out in Ding Ling's heart.

Ding Ling froze for a moment, then her heart leaped with joy, and a smile spread across her face.