As night fell, the three east-west avenues and the three north-south avenues in the center of Murhe City were empty. Unlike the bright lights in the past, the lanterns on both sides of the avenues were now turned off early, and the roads were filled with crowds waiting to watch the excitement.
The ceremony is about to begin.
Xiao Nanhui took the strange mask from the old priest, looked left and right, and couldn't tell which side was right and which was wrong. He could only say awkwardly: "Sir, I don't know how to put on this mask? I'm afraid I'll make a mistake..."
The old priest smiled, but his dry mouth was toothless, making him look rather creepy. He moved his eyelids, and Xiao Nanhui realized that the priest was actually blind.
"Miss, you are from another place, right? I guess you don't know what kind of gods this Zhu Ming Festival is dedicated to."
Xiao Nanhui nodded: "To be honest, sir, this is my first time attending this ceremony as well."
The old priest reached out her withered hand and touched the eyes painted with bright red paint on the mask. In fact, it was more like a hood than a mask, because it was surrounded by nine faces, each with countless eyes, some open and some closed, reminding her of the rose flowers that were either in full bloom or about to bloom.
"The deity worshipped during the Zhu Ming Festival is called Ji Ma. According to legend, he has a head resembling a wreath and countless bright red eyes. He governs discipline and is considered the most just and strict of gods. To oversee the good and evil of the world, Ji Ma was gifted with extra eyes. To avoid the glaring sunlight during the day, he only appears at night. People revere him, and during sacrificial ceremonies, they spontaneously extinguish candles and light only talismans to guide him."
Therefore, the streets outside are now pitch black, with no lights except the cold moonlight.
Xiao Nanhui lowered his head and felt that the countless pairs of eyes on the mask seemed to be staring at him.
"I see. So this mask has no front or back?"
The old priest nodded, touched Xiao Nanhui's head, and put the mask on her head with his own hands.
The light around her dimmed, and Xiao Nanhui's vision became narrow. She could only see the situation outside through two small holes in front of her.
Through the mask, she heard the old priest's disembodied voice.
"Although the mask has no front or back, the road has only one direction. Young lady, please do not lose your way."
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The ceremonial procession consists of nine huge floats. Each float is carved with a nine-story soul tower in wood according to the ancient sacrificial tradition. Various paper figures are tied between each floor to interpret a mythological story.
In front of the float was a long line of 119 torches, each holding a banner made of talisman paper. When lit, they turned into fireballs that burned for just half an hour.
This half hour is the time it takes for the ceremonial team to walk from the starting point to the end point. The entire team starts from the southeast intersection, first walks west along the outermost east-west street, and then turns north after passing nine intersections, making three "return" shapes from the outside to the inside, and finally reaches the Youyin Altar in the center, which is the place where the final sacrifice is offered.
Xiao Nanhui is the chief priest this year and needs to stand on the highest level of the ninth float. In fact, it is better to say that he is hanging than standing.
Originally, the highest wooden floor was only an inch of space, and this small space was not a solid wooden board, but was made up of several bamboo poles and wood. One had to be very careful where they stepped. As the team began to move forward, the float, which was not very stable to begin with, began to shake, and the top wooden floor was the most shaky.
She began to understand why Zhu Mingji was competing in climbing a high tower to pick flowers. Just look at the car in front of her. If someone without some skills, they wouldn't even be able to stand.
The procession waved its banners to the beat of drums, and the stream of fireballs formed a giant, winding dragon as it slowly advanced. The streets were already packed with spectators. Aside from New Year's Eve, the Zhuming Festival was the most bustling. Even the elderly, usually women and children, emerged from their homes. Shop assistants and servants, now enjoying a moment of leisure, poured into the streets to join in the celebration. The final destination, the Youyin Altar, was already packed, making it impossible for ordinary families to get a seat. However, ordinary people had their own way of enjoying themselves: they waited for the procession to pass, threw their tea flowers, and then bowed their heads to silently recite a wish.
Xiao Nanhui was sitting high up in the luxurious carriage, with bright red petals floating in the air. She looked down at the countless people who were looking up at her, clasping their hands together devoutly and making wishes, and she inexplicably felt a sense of mission.
This primitive and ancient celebration truly possessed a magical power, stirring the emotions of those who participated. At that moment, she felt as if she were not herself, but the god named "Jima", who had descended to the world to observe his people, punish the evil and promote the good, and uphold justice.
It is said that sincerity is the key to success. Perhaps only in front of God are everyone equal.
As the honor procession moved forward, Xiao Nanhui gradually adapted to the frequency of the bumps and began to be alert to his surroundings at all times.
Zhongli actually said that the ceremony is when the jade seal will appear, and someone will definitely take action.
It was so dark all around that the meager moonlight was almost negligible under the encroaching darkness. She felt that she was exposed to countless gazes, but she could not see clearly those eyes in the darkness.
After completing the first U-shaped path, nothing happened. Xiao Nan looked back at the road ahead and found that the roads on both sides suddenly narrowed.
This is the area around the old town of Murhe.
Over a hundred years ago, a terrible plague struck Murhe. Remnants of the towering walls still remain on the borders of Huozhou, an extraordinary measure taken to prevent the infected from escaping. When the plague finally subsided, Murhe was rebuilt on the outskirts, with the Pingxiao Tower at its center. The area in the city where the plague broke out was sealed off and burned. Years later, even if it was still inhabited, it was sparsely populated, and this became the Old City.
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