Fools' Troupe

The first thing I did in the morning was to knock on that padlocked door.

The paperwork was ready: a contact slip from the market management office, plus a photocopy of the guarantee letter stamped by Phoebe. Zhou Yu knocked three times, but no one answered. He folded the contact slip, slipped it under the door, and took a step back to look at the lock.

"The ashes haven't been touched," Chisa said.

"It shouldn't have been touched," Zhou Yu said. "Touching it would only cause more trouble."

Emerging from the dead-end alley and circling around to the Sallero's Outdoor Gallery, it was Dania first heard the sound. A circle of people had gathered on the gallery steps, and someone in the circle was acting. Halfway through the performance, the person on stage shouted down to the audience.

"Who's afraid of missing a princess who's been kidnapped by a dragon?"

Dania raised her hand. "I will."

"Okay! You're the one." A pair of hands reached out from the crowd and pulled her inside.

The girl pulling her was a theatrical performer with twin ponytails, her eyes were different colors, her face was expressionless, and her grip was strong. Sigelica later recounted the next scene three times. The princess was kidnapped by the dragon, and all that was needed was a scream. Dania was carried up the steps, paused for two seconds, and then screamed. Her scream was so genuine and heartfelt that it shook the surrounding neighborhood; even the Lottie Lost on the other side of the bridge peeked out. Laughter erupted from the audience, and coins clattered as they were thrown onto the stage.

"Stop. Perfect." The girl put Dania down, her face still flat, and bowed deeply to the audience. "This princess is genuinely frightened. An encore. I'll play the dragon again."

As she said this, she subtly spread one hand into a claw at her side. The laughter from the audience grew even louder.

The box monster rolled out from behind the curtain at that moment. It was a box about half a person's height with four short legs, and the lid opened and closed, keeping time for itself. Dania stopped acting and squatted down to look it in the eye.

What's your name?

A muffled voice came from inside the box, which could be considered as announcing their name.

"Pero," she said, turning to Zhou Yu, "It looks just like Bozai. They both sit like that, belly up. Bozai sat like that when he was supervising, his tail even pressing down on the flat surface, like a daily wage for dou da fu."

As she counted, her voice trailed off. Zhou Yu didn't reply, but took out a fragment of Tacet Discord Core from her canvas bag and placed it in front of her. Pero leaned over to smell it, then used the lid of the box to hold the core in place and showed it to Dania.

"It accepted gifts," Sigelica said. "It's more sensible than those fairies."

Dania wiped her eyes and smiled back, "Could I take a picture of it? I'll send it back to Bozai to show him."

"Take any picture, it's the most photogenic." The girl walked over and extended her hand to Dania first. Dania placed her hand on the girl's, shook it, and then let go.

"Roccia. The Fools' Troupe," she said. "It's Pero."

She glanced at Dania, then at Zhou Yu.

"Just now, when you were scared, your hands were shaking," she said to Dania. "They were shaking really realistically. Come with me on the tour."

"We can't dig it up," Zhou Yu said. "She has an employer. Me."

"Meals provided?"

Meals are provided.

Roccia glanced at Dania, Dania nodded rapidly. She shook her head at Zhou Yu, as if complaining on Dania's behalf that the price was too low.

The theater troupe's booth was set up at the side entrance of the gallery, a table covered with cardboard boxes. On top of it were three pieces of paper, each stamped with the Order's seal, and next to the seal was a large character. "Rejected."

"Three times now." The captain emerged from behind the booth, his fiery red costume gleaming, his voice booming like champagne, even his wry smile. "Brant, director of the Fools' Troupe. The first carnival after the reconstruction, the whole city is waiting for the show, and we've submitted our application three times, rejected three times."

"What's the reason?" Zhou Yu asked.

"There's no precedent." Brant flattened the three sheets of paper. "They said our company has no precedent for performing in Ragunna. We'll apply again once there's a precedent."

Where does the precedent come from?

"First there's the performance, then there's the precedent." Brant spread his hands. "So, it's a vicious cycle."

Zhou Yu picked up the three rejection slips and read them one by one, even turning them over on the back.

"This isn't about a lack of precedent," he said. "It's about insufficient material."

"Materials?" Brant and Roccia exchanged glances. "We've even submitted the posters."

"Posters are useless. The regulations don't care if you can perform, they care about the thickness of your documents. Safety plan, venue contract, audience capacity, emergency evacuation, refund policy—each one on a separate sheet of paper. Did you submit them?"

The stall fell silent.

"Do we have to pay this much?" Roccia asked in a low voice.

"It has to be submitted." Zhou Yu opened the document bag. "And it has to be thicker than anyone else's. The thicker the documents, the easier it is to stamp them. I'm good at this."

The administrative branch opened that afternoon.

Zhou Yu occupied the long table on the second floor of Margaret's house to write materials, making three copies, with the safety plan on page seven. Sigelica received the stamped list, drew the errand route on the back of the paper, and started from the Order window, turning clockwise halfway Ragunna.

"Eleven stamps," Zhou Yu said. "Come back for dinner after you're done."

Eleven?!

"If one is missing, come back tomorrow. The one who runs the fastest will get a 500 yuan raise next month."

"Chisaki's mother said the same thing." Sigelica grabbed the list and went downstairs.

Chisa's job is easier. Roccia recite the opera lines for her.

Roccia didn't speak, but opened the script, folded a corner, handed it over, and pointed to a passage.

Chisa took it and read it from beginning to end, word by word, in a tone as flat as if she were reciting a menu.

The people in the gallery fell silent. Then, someone burst into tears.

Roccia's hand, which was raised halfway, stopped in mid-air, slowly fell down, patted her leg, and then ignored her face.

"This is it," she said, "The one who died. What did you do before?"

"Bodyguard."

She nodded, took a small notebook out of her sleeve, wrote a line, and put it away.

Dania leaned closer to look. It said in the notebook, "Can't dig it out."

Chisa returned the script, her face was blank, but the tips of her ears were slightly red.

Dania whispered in Zhou Yu's ear, "Her ears are red."

"Don't make a sound."

The materials were handed over in the evening. There were three copies, plus a poster sample and a paw print of Pero. The priest at the window flipped through them, glanced up at Zhou Yu, and then looked down and flipped through them again.

"The material is very thick," he said. "Results will be available in seven working days."

Roccia didn't speak, but pushed Pero to the window. Pero opened the box lid as wide as possible, revealing a complete set of hand-painted scenery and posters.

"A process is a process."

Before she finished speaking, Phoebe came out from the inner room, passed by the window, casually pulled out the top document, flipped through a couple of pages, took out a pen, and signed her name on the first page.

"I'm on duty tonight," she said. "These materials shouldn't take seven working days."

Brant took off his hat and bowed outside the window. Hidden inside the hat was a bottle of champagne. Roccia jumped up and down, high in the air, but his face remained expressionless. Pero banged the lid of the trunk loudly.

The festivities subsided, and the group headed back. Passing the Order's gate, they saw a calendar displaying the years of each Laurel Festival. Dania stopped and searched through the calendar, finding the 41st festival. A long gap followed that year before the 42nd. She reached out and touched the 41st festival's calendar.

"What are you looking at?" Sigelica asked.

"An old friend," Dania said.

Next to the calendar was a newly posted notice, the ink still wet.

[Notice: During the Carnival, all public Echo in the area will undergo Silent Maintenance. Activities at all Echo will be suspended for three days during this period.]

A few citizens returning home late had gathered around the notice. Some read it aloud, while others grumbled and cursed, all saying it was a routine matter, happening every year, with complete signatures and numbers.

Dania finished reading the line of text, then glanced back at the bridge. Under the bridge arch, the Lottie Lost stood ramrod straight, clutching her sword, Chop Chop on the windowsill waved to her, just as it had that morning.

"Are they going to keep quiet for three days?" she asked.

No one answered.

Under the bridge, the Lottie Lost was still standing in the same spot. Dania waved to it, and it nodded.

"It'll be under maintenance for three days." She withdrew her hand, her voice lowered. "After three days, will it still recognize us?"

Zhou Yu didn't reply. He glanced at the signature section of the notice again; the signatures and numbers were complete, and the stamp was clear. He wrote those four words down in the schedule and folded a corner over them.

On the gondola ride back, no one spoke again. Along both sides of the waterway, the Echo of singing continued, as if trying to sing the song a few more times before something was about to happen.