The Ghost Guests Arrive

Night had fallen, and the sky was pitch-black.

Looking down the slope from the doorway, Daliang Village in the mountain hollow was pitch-black too. Not a single person was in sight.

The pitch-black hollow seemed capable of sucking away a person's soul-Li Yichun merely leaned out and gave it an extra glance, and a chill spread through his body. He felt as though ghosts were silently watching him from every side.

He shuddered, quickly pulled his head back in, shut the courtyard gate, and secured the bolt.

Li Yichun carried the incense burner by the gate to the threshold and set it down in line with the gap between the doors. Then he fetched three incense sticks, lit them with a match, and walked backward around the courtyard holding them, chanting all the while, "Honored patrons and guests, please come choose an opera...

"Our operas are wonderful: 'The Boy Passes the Trial,' 'Three Battles with the White Bone Demon,' 'Zhong Kui Marries Off His Sister,' 'Nine Lotus Lanterns'...

"Take your pick, whichever you please...

"Honored patrons..."

After walking backward around the courtyard three times, Li Yichun returned to the gate.

He was dressed as a huadan, yet he was doing what a prostitute did outside a brothel to solicit customers.

Li Yichun planted the three incense sticks in the burner and stared at the wisps of smoke drifting fitfully from their tips, his lips dry.

Just then, Chang Dafeng's voice sounded unexpectedly beside him. "Two short, one long-that's ghostly breath.

"The guests have arrived."

Li Yichun's heart jolted and his back went numb. Turning his head, he saw the troupe leader standing beside him, dressed in black, holding a bamboo sieve with a cloth bag tucked at his waist, his expression cold and stern.

"Troupe leader~" he called out, as if complaining.

Startled and frightened, his soft cry came out unexpectedly coquettish.

"Go stay with the others. There's nothing for you to do here."

Chang Dafeng sent Li Yichun away and untied the cloth bag from his waist, pulling out a handful of fine sand mixed with incense ash. Holding the small bamboo sieve steady in one hand, he crouched and sprinkled the sand onto it with the other.

The bamboo sieve shook gently, and the fine sand fell through its mesh onto the ground behind the incense burner.

The grayish-white grains stood out against the dark yellow earth.

Bent over and sifting sand, Chang Dafeng edged toward the main hall one step at a time.

In front of the main hall, Qian Heng planted five wooden plaques upright in the ground, each carved with the name of a selection from one of the supernatural operas the troupe performed best. Then he sat down on the ground beside them.

Li Yichun came running over in a panic and sat cross-legged beside Qian Heng.

Ding Ling sat opposite the two men.

The three sat on the ground, with the five opera plaques right in the middle.

Watching Chang Dafeng approach step by step as he sifted the sand, Ding Ling explained to Zhou Yang in her mind, Wherever the sand is sprinkled, ghosts can walk.

If a hoofprint the size of a fingernail appears on this ghost road, it means the ghost guests have arrived.

Following Ding Ling's gaze, Zhou Yang studied the layer of fine sand glowing white in the lamplight. Its surface was smooth and level, with no sign yet of the hoofprints she had mentioned.

He asked Ding Ling, Can this layer of white sand really tell us whether any ghosts have come nearby?

At the question, Ding Ling began to giggle.

Laughing to herself, she explained to Zhou Yang, You're as perceptive as ever.

Just as you suspected, this layer of white sand is only for show. It can't tell us whether a ghost has come nearby. The hoofprints that appear on it later will be marks the troupe leader deliberately makes by blocking the holes in the sieve with his fingers.

That includes the opera selection afterward. It looks as though ghosts are choosing, but we're the living people who actually decide.

If performing a ritual like this brought ghosts to our door instead, wouldn't that be sending everyone straight into the tiger's jaws? We'd all be eaten by ghosts!

So this ritual of 'Inviting Ghosts to Choose an Opera' is really just a trick to fool people.

At a creepy time like this, Qian and Li are both scared stiff as quails, but you're in the mood to joke with me. You really are bold, Zhou Yang said. Though when it matters, that courage of yours always seems to fail you.

*...* Ding Ling was embarrassed for a moment and could say nothing.

Zhou Yang chuckled inwardly, though his expression remained impassive. Since this is a trick to fool people, why does everyone in the troupe seem to take it so seriously?

You all know it's a trick. Couldn't you just go through the motions together and be done with it?

That won't do either, Ding Ling said. Even if there are no ghosts in the ritual and it's only meant to fool people, everyone still has to act as though ghost guests have really arrived.

Look at that incense burner. It's placed in the lower position, in front of us.

We're sitting behind it in the honored position. Don't we look like spirit tablets receiving incense offerings?

Right now, we may look like people, but we're actually occupying the "corpse position," as spirit tablets left here by the ghosts. When we reach out and push over one of those opera plaques later, we'll be making a Ghost Opera Selection on the ghosts' behalf.

Since we're making a Ghost Opera Selection on the ghosts' behalf, if we don't believe there are ghosts here, then the opera we choose won't be for them, and it won't work.

But if we do, it'll work very well!

I understand. Zhou Yang nodded.

He looked at the opera plaques surrounded by the others.

When hoofprints appeared in the fine sand and the "ghost guests arrived," everyone would gather around the plaques, place their hands together, and ultimately push one over, making a Ghost Opera Selection on the ghosts' behalf.

This ritual of "Inviting Ghosts to Choose an Opera" was remarkably similar to the "pen spirit" game.

Both involved several people holding one object together and guiding it in an unpredictable direction...

At the thought, an ominous feeling suddenly rose in Zhou Yang's heart.

The night grew colder and colder.

Qian Heng felt the chill seep into his shoulders and back, making them stiff. He quietly rolled his shoulders.

Beside him, Li Yichun suddenly said, "Brother Gao... will he come back?"

Gao Hongbo?

Hadn't he gone into that stone house, with no chance of surviving?

How could a dead man come back?

The scattered thoughts suddenly connected in Qian Heng's mind. His back stiffened even more, and he stared wide-eyed at Li Yichun-

Li Yichun had been trembling nonstop just moments ago, but now he had stopped. He wore a dazed expression, his head lowered as he looked at the opera plaques, as though he had no idea what ghastly thing he had just said!

A moment ago, Qian Heng had felt that having someone beside him at least made things warmer and kept him from feeling so chilled inside.

Now he wished he could kick Li Yichun three li away!

That jinx!

The troupe leader was sifting sand, and the "ghost road" had nearly reached them. It was even harder for Qian Heng to do anything else, so he could only suppress his churning thoughts and clench his fists desperately to keep himself from shaking too badly!

He then looked away, turning his gaze to Ding Ling opposite him.

Ding Ling's eyes were lowered, and she looked perfectly composed-even steadier than those of them who had spent years traveling the jianghu.

"A guest has arrived-"

Just then, Chang Dafeng, still sifting fine sand, suddenly called out in a hoarse voice.

The cry was like a crow cawing in the middle of the night, enough to make anyone shudder!

"Your honored presence graces our humble home. Please choose an opera!"

Immediately afterward, Ding Ling spoke up, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Qian Heng came to his senses at once and called out after Ding Ling, "Your honored presence graces our humble home. Please choose an opera!"

When he finished, he didn't dare move a muscle. He strained to look at Li Yichun out of the corner of his eye, terrified that Li Yichun would make a mistake now and cause a major disaster-

But Li Yichun suddenly lifted his face. He was beaming, his smile like a spring breeze to anyone who saw it.

Rouge and powder covered his rather angular face, and his smile looked as though it had been carefully painted on. Look at it a little longer, and it seemed like no smile a human could make!

It was more like the smile painted on paper effigies or portraits!

Wearing that smile, Li Yichun smiled sweetly and said, "Your honored presence graces our humble home. Please choose an opera!"

A chill shot straight through the crown of Qian Heng's head!