Opera God's Righteous Garden

Wu Wang asked, feigning difficulty.

"Why must it be me?"

This Troupe Master had far too many secrets.

Never mind that he could die and come back to life, control Ghostly Shadows, and perform a human sacrifice ritual for some unknown purpose.

Most crucially, Wu Wang remembered it clearly.

The Jiangshi Prince had called the man "Brother Ji"!

The master of a simple opera troupe was on "brotherly" terms with a prince who guarded the frontier and fought on the battlefield.

Even if Wu Wang didn't know the specific historical setting, the presence of candles, firelight, and royalty made one thing clear. This was no modern era.

Unlike in modern society where celebrities held prominent status, it was a different story in the old days. Despite training hard from a young age, being an opera actor was not a respectable profession.

First-rate were emperors and ministers; second-rate, officials and generals; third-rate, gentry and merchants.

Fourth-rate were sects and gangs; fifth-rate, artisans and craftsmen; sixth-rate, doctors and farmers.

Seventh-rate were shamans and beggars; eighth-rate, thieves and swindlers; ninth-rate, performers and prostitutes.

Singing in an opera for a living belonged to the very bottom of the social ladder, the Lower Nine Streams. In a way, opera performers had even lower status than a courtesan.

A courtesan could at least "go straight" by marrying an official or a famous scholar to change her social standing.

But actors, also known as youling, could never escape their lot.

They were barred from imperial examinations, forbidden from marrying into high society, and could only find partners within their own community.

The saying "a slave for a day, a slave for a lifetime" was no exaggeration.

In such a rigid hierarchy, a first-rate "Prince" treating a ninth-rate "actor" as an equal was, in itself, the biggest anomaly.

"Still playing dumb with me? Don't think I don't know."

The Troupe Master stared intently into Wu Wang's eyes.

"Your family has been shamans (xi) for generations. Figuring out the Eight Characters of Birth Time and the zodiac signs of your martial brothers should be simple for you, right?"

He continued, emphasizing each word.

"Only you know whose limbs to take."

Wu Wang's mind went blank.

"?"

Do I know? Am I supposed to know?

Holy crap! So I'm not so simple either?

But I'm not the real Bai Sha!

One moment I'm supposed to be refining pills, the next I have to play shaman and perform divinations.

What kind of bullshit difficulty is this Instance?

Wu Wang cleared his throat.

"Ahem, since you already know, I suppose if I don't agree, I won't be walking out of this opera house today?"

He glanced at the five-colored husk and the Clown Ghost Shadow on the stage. He then looked at the numerous shattered Ghostly Shadows on the ground playing the part of corpses.

All of them were staring at him like tigers eyeing their prey, as if they would pounce and tear him to shreds the moment the Troupe Master gave the order.

The Troupe Master smiled faintly.

"I never said that. After all, the Prince wants to see you tomorrow."

The moment he finished speaking, Wu Wang shot to his feet. He walked out of the opera house without looking back, leaving only his words behind.

"Then I'll give you an answer after I see the Prince tomorrow."

After Wu Wang left, the Troupe Master sat alone in the empty audience. He gazed at the patched-together Five-colored Ghostly Shadow on the stage, his eyes growing vacant.

He opened his mouth slightly, his tone rising as he began to sing.

“My strength plucked up the hills, my might shadowed the world! But the times are against me, and Dapple runs no more! When Dapple runs no more, what then can I do? Ah, Yu, my Yu, what is to be done with you~”

His singing was so stunningly brilliant it would have moved any audience. It was hard to imagine that a man with the face of a handsome youth could possess such a powerful voice. He sang the tune while seated, a clear sign that he still had strength to spare.

As his song continued, the Five-colored Ghostly Shadow on the stage picked up a sharp sword that glinted coldly. It placed the blade against its own neck.

With a swift turn, its head fell to the ground.

The head rolled and rolled until it stopped at the Troupe Master's feet. Its featureless visage looked up at his face.

A single, crystal-clear teardrop fell upon it.

In that instant, the candlelight and all the bizarre Ghostly Shadows vanished without a trace, plunging the room into a darkness so thick you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

The main door of the opera house swung shut on its own with a loud boom.

The entire building returned to dead silence.

Just as Wu Wang stepped outside, he ran into the skinny old man, who led him to the living quarters.

It was a row of simple brick-and-tile houses, nothing particularly grand. Considering the historical setting, Wu Wang found them perfectly normal.

"Master Bai, we're here."

The skinny old man smiled fawningly.

"The Troupe Master wanted me to tell all the Star Actors to get a good rest tonight. We mustn't mess up tomorrow's performance."

Wu Wang nodded casually, acknowledging the message.

But the old man didn't leave. Instead, he leaned in with another warning.

"The garden's been a bit... unpeaceful at night. If you need anything, just give this old servant a shout."

He added, "Try not to go out, whether to relieve yourself or just enjoy the cool air. You wouldn't want to catch a cold."

With that, the old man finally turned and left.

Wu Wang narrowed his eyes, staring at the man's stooped back. His last two sentences were quite thought-provoking.

What did he mean, the garden wasn't peaceful at night? Haunted? This was no joke. He knew for a fact that this opera garden truly was haunted.

Could it be that besides the Troupe Master and his Ghostly Shadows, there are other ghosts in this Opera God's Righteous Garden?

Once the old man was completely gone, Wu Wang lay down on his bed. He withdrew his gaze from the door and spoke casually to the empty room.

"Hey, friend. You've seen enough, haven't you? How about coming out for a chat?"

A moment later, there was still no movement.

With a swift motion, Wu Wang reached under the bed and pulled out a chamber pot.

He spoke again to the corner near the door.

"You followed me all the way from the opera house. If you're going to keep playing dumb, don't blame me for what happens next. I'm about to reenact a famous scene. I'll be Sun Wukong, and you can be the Buddha's fingers."

Seeing Wu Wang actually start to loosen his waistband, the presence hiding in the dark could hold back no longer.

A scarecrow staggered out from behind a table.

"Sorry, I mean no harm," it said, its voice the first to break the silence. "I just want to ask you a question."

Hearing the familiar loli voice, the corners of Wu Wang's mouth turned up. He knew immediately whose prop this was.

The scarecrow hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"I wanted to ask... do you know a player named 【Yan Shuangying】?"

It was clearly the Fox Loli, 【Xiaoxiao】, controlling the scarecrow. She had felt an inexplicable familiarity from this player called Pending Death, which was why she had been secretly observing him. She just hadn't expected to be found out so quickly.

Faced with a spy who had delivered herself right to his doorstep, Wu Wang just shrugged and smiled.

"Of course I know him. He's my Private Tutor."

He then gestured toward the door.

"If it's convenient, shall we go out and talk?"

"We can take a stroll around this Opera God's Righteous Garden while we're at it."

"I'd like to see for myself just how unpeaceful it is."