Chapter 121: Physiognomist Xie Lingwei [Believe it or not]
On the coast of the East China Sea, in the southern part of Chengzhou, in Wangjia Village, which is nestled between the mountains and the sea, a sacrifice to the sea god is being held.
On the colorful lacquer-painted Dou Ba stage, actors wearing opera hats and long black beards bowed and saluted: "I got up early in the morning and burned a censer of incense to thank the heavens and the three officials."
His voice was clear and resonant in the octagonal pointed-arch ceiling. If it weren't for the trembling at the end of his voice and beads of sweat on his forehead, it would have looked like he was just singing the most ordinary opening scene.
Opposite the stage, there is no auditorium, but a temple leaning against the mountain. On the pillars in front of the temple there is a pair of couplets, the first one reads:
【Wannian Zongshe Xianyinghou】
The lower line is:
【Thousand-year-old famous sea king】
It seems that the audience of this play is not humans, but Marquis Xianying and King Zhenhai.
The opening scene was already being sung in the front stage, but the actors backstage looked pale and there was no sign of the busyness of the upcoming performance.
The body of troupe owner Zhao Guihua lay coldly on the ground. The statue of Prince Bodhisattva worshipped by Guihua Troupe was also broken into pieces. The leading actress Zhao Sulan and the male actor Zhao Erbao collapsed on the ground. The younger actors knelt beside the body of the troupe owner, crying silently.
Zhao Sulan felt cold all over, and she was thinking about how the Osmanthus Class had become like this.
The Osmanthus Troupe left Guanshan County and sang all the way to the south of Chengzhou. The troupe owner saved more than 200 taels of silver and planned to return to his hometown to buy land and houses when he had enough money. If the disciples were able to read, they could go to school. His Majesty had introduced a new policy, and people of low status could also take the imperial examinations. As long as they could produce a Wenquxing who made it to the top, the Osmanthus Troupe would be able to transform into a gentry family and no longer be of the lowest class, and would no longer have to sell their smiles and wander the world.
Perhaps it was because the journey was too smooth, or perhaps it was because the Guihua Troupe was too greedy, but when they arrived at Wangjia Village, the head of the Wang family offered them a high price of five hundred taels of silver and invited them to perform temple opera in the village.
The troupe owner and several older actors such as Zhao Sulan and Zhao Erbao were all hesitant when they heard the offer, but money is seductive and they could return home after doing this job. The old troupe owner, who had been wandering for half his life, wanted to be a farmer, and the young actors wanted to study hard and take the imperial examinations. How could they be willing to live a mediocre life after playing the roles of kings, princes, generals and ministers?
On the way to Wangjia Village, Zhao Guihua repeatedly reminded them to just focus on singing the opera, and no matter what else happened, just pretend you didn't see it if you saw it, and pretend you didn't hear it if you heard it. Just leave after the opera is over and don't meddle in other people's business.
The youngest Ying'er nodded solemnly. None of the children in Guihua's class would act naughty about such things.
No one expected that the first person to get into trouble would be the most experienced old boss.
Last night, as soon as the Osmanthus Troupe entered the village, they were urged by the patriarch of the Wang family to start singing the first play.
The stage was built opposite the temple, which enshrined an unknown statue of god. Zhao Guihua knew that this was strange, so before the performance, she burned three incense sticks to the statue of the ancestor god, Prince Bodhisattva.
As soon as the incense was lit, everyone heard the faint sound of rising tide. Suddenly, it was pitch dark all around. The moon above their heads disappeared at some point, and the sky turned into pure darkness.
An altar with burning incense and candles appeared in everyone's sight through the window, becoming the only light in the darkness.
A circle of bonfires was burning around the altar. People surrounding the bonfire held a bamboo in their hands with a dead chicken hanging on the bamboo, and waves were rolling behind them.
A human figure in a straw raincoat sat on the altar, with his back to the stage, striking bells, chimes, and cymbals. People holding bamboos in their hands shook the bamboos to the sound of the strikes and shouted someone's name.
"Zhao Guihua~" They shouted one after another, and the shouts gradually became louder. The people in Guihua's class finally heard it clearly, "Zhao Guihua is coming~"
Zhao Sulan, Zhao Erbao and the others were all stiff, and the darkness around them seemed to have turned into a ball of cotton, squeezing them so hard that they couldn't breathe or speak.
The old boss didn't respond, so the people around the campfire continued to shake the bamboo and shouted even louder, "Come on, Zhao Guihua!"
The shouts became more and more mournful, and the sound of the tide became louder and louder, but Zhao Guihua could not even hear the sound of breathing. A faint light emanated from the statue of Prince Bodhisattva, and the next moment it was submerged in darkness.
The apprentices wanted to look back at their old master, but they couldn't turn their stiff necks.
The louder the noise outside, the quieter the room becomes.
An unknown amount of time had passed before, amid deafening shouts and the sound of the tide, a figure in a straw raincoat turned around. A piece of paper with his birth date was stuck to his face. The sea breeze blew the paper up, revealing an old face full of wrinkles. It was the face of the old boss.
Zhao Sulan, Zhao Erbao and others screamed uncontrollably, but the shrill cries and the heavy sound of the rising tide suddenly disappeared. With a whoosh, a strong wind blew past, and everyone subconsciously closed their eyes. They could vaguely hear the old boss's screams.
When I opened my eyes again, the suffocating darkness had faded away, and the moon reappeared in the sky. The altar, the bonfire, and the figures holding bamboos and wearing straw raincoats had all disappeared without a trace, like a dream.
However, the old boss who fell to the ground and died, and the shattered statues of the Prince Bodhisattva, all proved that all this was not an illusion.
In the temple opposite the stage, the bright light of the eternal lamp shone through, casting long slanted shadows on the statues of Xianying Hou and Zhenhai Wang, with an expression that seemed to be smiling.
A young man from the Wang clan walked to the backstage door, as if he hadn't seen the corpse that hadn't closed its eyes yet, and said to Zhao Sulan, Zhao Erbao and others: "Grandpa asked me to ask, when can we go on stage?"
He glanced at the bulging bag on the opera box and reminded, "The deposit has been paid, you are not going to default on it, are you?"
Zhao Erbao's legs were shaking, and his trouser pockets were soaked. Zhao Sulan pinched her palms hard, trying not to look at the old boss's body, and held back her tears as she said, "We'll return the money to you."
The young man lowered his eyes, and when he raised them again, the corners of his mouth had a smile that matched the curve of the statue: "Have you thought about it?"
Zhao Sulan wanted to nod, but she caught a glimpse of the shadow of the statue behind him, spreading like a tide. She shuddered, swallowed her original words, shook her head and said, "Just kidding, I'll be on stage soon, right away, please wait."
The young man said "Oh", returned to his expressionless state, turned around and left.
Zhao Sulan looked at the shadow of the statue again, but found nothing unusual, as if what she had just seen was just an illusion caused by her fear.
But she thought for a while, looked at her fellow students who were still in shock, and said, "We have to finish this play."
After saying that, she took the lead and asked Zhao Erbao and other actors to cheer up and work together to complete the first play.
After the performance, it was already daybreak and the horrific scene that seemed like a nightmare never appeared again.
But the old boss's body still lay backstage, silently reminding them of what had happened.
Before the exhausted actors had time to cry for their master, the young man who delivered the message came again, saying that the first play was sung well, and the master asked everyone to start the second play as soon as possible.
…
This is the second play.
After the opening scene, it was time for the main show. The actor dressed as the child prodigy had red eyes and tried hard to suppress his tears. He walked onto the stage to the sound of gongs and drums. Just as he was about to unfold the banner, one of his hands trembled and the banner fell to the ground.
Two cold gazes fell on the little actress named Ying'er. She hurriedly lowered her head to pick it up, but made a mistake in her haste and failed to pick it up twice.
The malice in the cold gaze became more intense. Ying'er didn't dare to look up to see where it was coming from. Tears rolled down her painted cheeks.
The actors backstage watched this scene in horror, and someone urged quietly: "Hurry up and pick it up... Stop shaking, please, stop shaking..."
Some people close their eyes and pray to gods and Buddhas randomly, but even the ancestors cannot protect them, so who can they count on?
Zhao Sulan, who had changed into the costume of a divine general, gritted her teeth, kicked Zhao Erbao who was shaking like a quail, picked up the red tasseled spear, recited the lyrics, and rushed onto the stage.
Zhao Erbao tremblingly grabbed the spear, took a few deep breaths, and mustered up the courage to follow.
The two men sang and paced, playing with gunfire, blocking Ying'er behind them, isolating her from the cold gaze that seemed to be real.
Another child prodigy took the opportunity to pull the banner. Ying'er nodded, bent her waist, and quietly walked off the stage with him.
Two long spears flew up and down like silver dragons, dong dong clang, dong dong clang, the fierce sound of gongs and drums, and the gun flowers were dazzling.
The wonderful performance seemed to calm the "audience". The cold gazes were withdrawn and the statues in the temple lowered their eyes, still with a half-smile on their faces.
Ying'er's knees went weak and she knelt on the ground, looking at her senior sisters and brothers on the stage, crying silently.
…
When the second play was over, the sun was already high in the sky, at noon.
The actors of the Osmanthus Troupe were scared and hungry. Some of them could hardly stand, let alone continue singing the second play.
Zhao Sulan licked her cracked lips, staggered a step, and was quickly caught by Zhao Erbao.
"Will they give us food?" Zhao Erbao whispered, "If this continues, people will starve to death before the show is over."
Zhao Sulan didn't say anything, but a terrible guess emerged in her mind. Perhaps Wang had never intended for them to leave alive from the beginning.
The temple opera was just a cover. What Wangjia Village really wanted was the sacrifice to the sea god...
Just then, she heard the respectful voice of the Wang clan leader.
"Thank you, Master. This way please."
She raised her head in surprise and looked out of the backstage window, only to see a woman in a gray robe, with a wine bag hanging around her waist, a string of copper coins hanging in her left hand, and a flag in her right hand, walking towards the clan leader's residence accompanied by the clan leader Wang.
There were four words written on the flag:
【Believe it or not】
Zhao Sulan stared at "Teacher Xie" in a daze. Somehow, she felt a sense of familiarity, as if she had seen her somewhere, but she couldn't remember where.
Teacher Xie noticed that someone was looking at her, so she turned around and her eyes fell on Zhao Sulan's face.
Zhao Sulan was shocked.
She had never seen eyes like these. They seemed to be covered with a layer of mist, containing mysteries that no one could fathom. The layers of darkness reminded her of the sea at high tide last night... no, these eyes were even vaster and more mysterious than that sea.
Her face suddenly turned red, and strength surged out of her weak body. She pushed the window open, climbed out of the house, and rushed towards Master Xie.
She couldn't believe that Master Xie, who had such deep and wise eyes, would be fooled by Wang.
The only hope for the survival of the Osmanthus Class lies in Teacher Xie!
Li Zhou, who had become the simulated character fortune teller Xie Lingwei, was thinking about what dishes to order when he arrived at the clan leader's house, when he suddenly saw a familiar little girl running towards him.
She thought about it for a while, but couldn't remember who the other person was. In the simulator, Miss Yu, who was trying hard to pretend that she didn't exist, made a surprised sound for the first time: "Zhao Sulan?"
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
