novellaaa Chapter 224 Come...to...watch...the...show...ah...
Chapter 224 Come...to...watch...the...show...ah...
Chapter 224 Come...to...watch...the...show...ah... (6000)
Lu Yuan led the two along the edge of the depression, avoiding several dark spots with particularly dense yin energy, and finally found a secluded place under a cliff in the southwest corner.
It was a huge, bluish-black rock, about half the size of a room, embedded diagonally between the cliff and the ground, forming a natural groove with the mountain behind it.
The rock surface was covered with moss and black water stains, and the edges were weathered and jagged.
But the front is surprisingly flat, like a stone tablet that has been deliberately polished.
Even more remarkably, there are two natural cracks at the bottom of this boulder, running through the rock mass.
From the outside, it looks like a useless cliff fold, and you wouldn't notice that there is a hidden space behind it.
Lu Yuan walked around the boulder, then took out a compass from his pocket, pressed the compass needle firmly in his palm, and observed it carefully for a moment.
His brow relaxed slightly, and he said softly to the two of them, "This place is nice."
"To the east, there is a cliff to block the wind; to the west, there is a huge rock to store energy; and although the south is open, it is directly in the blind spot of that willow tree."
"Most importantly, this stone is situated precisely at a node in the earth's ley line loop, allowing it to absorb some of the earth's energy and preventing the willow tree from draining its spiritual power."
Upon hearing this, Xu Erxiao and Wang Chengan immediately began clearing away the rubble and withered vines under the rock.
Xu Erxiao slammed the large box behind him onto the ground, wiping the sweat from his brow: "Brother Lu, what do you say we do? We'll listen to you!"
Wang Cheng'an then squatted down, took out three brass nails from his pocket, and drove them into the ground about a foot away from the left, right, and front of the boulder.
The nail was halfway into the ground, making a dull sound, as if it had been driven into something hard.
But Wang Chengan was prepared. He dipped his fingertip in cinnabar and smeared it on the nail head, and the sound immediately subsided, with no further movement.
Then, Wang Cheng'an looked at Lu Yuan and whispered, "The three elements are positioned so that the earth's energy is not leaked."
"Brother Lu, you can set up the altar now."
Lu Yuan looked at the skills Wang Cheng'an had just performed and nodded with great satisfaction.
These two really didn't waste their time following me; their skills are already quite impressive.
Keep in mind that the two of them had only been disciples for less than a year. If this were in other Taoist sects, disciples who had been disciples for less than a year would only be doing odd jobs in the temple.
Lu Yuan nodded at Wang Cheng'an, took out a piece of yellow cloth from his bosom, and spread it out with a shake.
The yellow cloth was four feet square, and the fabric was rough, like hand-woven linen, but the surface was covered with talismans drawn in cinnabar and ink.
The lines of the talisman are like dragons and snakes entwined, with a round tai chi symbol at the center, surrounded by the names of the twenty-eight constellations.
At each of the four corners is a winding incantation, which reads something like: "Azure Dragon of the East, Vermilion Bird of the South, White Tiger of the West, Black Tortoise of the North, and Gouchen of the Center, guarding the altar base."
As soon as the yellow cloth was spread out, it faintly emitted a deep, somber scent of sandalwood and mugwort, pushing back the surrounding stench.
Lu Yuan secured the four corners of the yellow cloth with weights, then took out three jujube wood nails, each 1.2 feet long, struck by lightning, from his bundle and nailed them into the ground in four different locations outside the yellow cloth.
As the nail fell, he murmured, "One nail brings clarity to the sky, two nails bring spiritual energy to the earth, three nails bring peace to the people, and four nails subdue evil."
"Firmly anchoring heaven and earth, the spirit follows the will."
With each nail driven in, the surrounding wind seemed to pause, and the deep hum sound seemed to fade into the distance.
After setting up the altar base, Lu Yuan carefully took out three memorial tablets from the bundle.
The very center piece is carved from peach wood, entirely black, with only the front inscribed with the eight characters "天地三清三境至尊" (Heaven, Earth, Three Pure Ones, Three Realms Supreme) in gold lacquer.
The memorial tablet wasn't large, but it was heavy.
Lu Yuan held it with both hands and respectfully placed it directly behind the yellow cloth, leaning against the boulder. He then used a small piece of clean white cloth to flatten the base.
The piece on the left is made of cypress wood, with fine wood grain and simple, antique carving.
The inscription above reads: "[The True Man Who Responds to the Primordial Laws of the Nine Heavens, the Heavenly Venerable Who Controls Thunder, the Golden Thunder Who Breaks Illusions, the Position of Zhang Jiuting]"
The handwriting is strong and sharp, exuding a fierce and incisive spirit.
This is naturally Lu Yuan's ancestor, and the source of his Taoist teachings.
Lu Yuan carefully arranged the memorial tablet, then took out a piece of yellow paper from his pocket. A complex talisman was drawn on it. He folded it into thirds and placed it under the memorial tablet.
The piece on the right was carved from ordinary willow wood, but it was coated with tung oil several times, giving it a smooth, lustrous sheen.
The inscription reads "The Positions of All Saints and Spirits of the Three Realms and Ten Directions".
These are memorial tablets used to worship various guardian deities and wandering gods, serving as "witnesses" invited to the Taoist altar to foster good karma.
After setting up the three memorial tablets, Lu Yuan took a step back and straightened his clothes.
He made a "Taishang Laojun" hand gesture with both hands and bowed deeply.
Upon seeing this, Xu Erxiao and Wang Chengan also quickly bowed in greeting.
After the ceremony, Lu Yuan took out the magic sword from his bundle.
The scabbard was black with few decorations, except for a dozen or so wraps of dried mulberry bark around the hilt, giving it a rough and solid feel when held.
As the sword was drawn, a cold glint flashed in the dim valley.
The spine of the sword is engraved with the Big Dipper, and the seven stars seem to flow slightly as the sword is turned.
Lu Yuan placed the magic sword horizontally on the yellow cloth in front of the memorial tablet, with the tip pointing due south, towards the willow tree.
Next is the compass.
It was an old bronze compass, its surface worn smooth and shiny.
The markings on it are densely packed, including the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches, the Twenty-Eight Mansions, the Eight Trigrams and the Nine Palaces, all of which are present.
The magnetic needle in the center does not point due south or due north like a normal compass, but rather vibrates slightly.
It was as if it was being pulled by an invisible force, always pointing towards the roots of that willow tree.
Lu Yuan placed the compass to the right of the magic sword, three inches away from it, and let the needle settle down.
"Light the candles."
Lu Yuan said in a deep voice.
Wang Chengan took out two white candles from his pocket. The candles were specially made and were more than twice as thick as ordinary candles.
The wax body was mixed with cinnabar and realgar powder, emitting a pungent medicinal smell.
He placed the candles on two bronze candlesticks on either side of the yellow cloth, which were firmly embedded in the cracks in the stone.
Xu Erxiao struck several matches before he could light the candle.
It wasn't that the wind was strong; it was that the air here was too humid and too cold, and it took several tries to light the match.
When the candlelight was lit, it emitted a dim, yellowish light, yet it was unexpectedly bright, dispelling the shadows within three feet of the candlestick.
The candlelight flickered slightly, yet remained steady, as if to say:
There is no wind here.
After the candles were lit, Lu Yuan took out a small blue stone incense burner from his bundle. The burner was only the size of a fist, and the words "Eternally Suppress Yin and Filth" were engraved on the bottom.
He added fresh incense ash to the incense burner, then carefully lit three sticks of "Jiangzhen incense" and respectfully inserted them into the burner.
The smoke from sandalwood is extremely fine, carrying a clear medicinal fragrance. Like a white line, it rises straight up to a height of about ten feet before slowly dissipating.
A hazy cloud of incense formed beneath the boulder, enveloping the three people and their memorial tablet.
"As long as the incense burns bright, the Dharma protectors will always remain."
Lu Yuan said in a low voice.
Then Lu Yuan took out a stack of yellow talisman paper, a piece of vermilion ink, and a wolf-hair calligraphy brush, and placed them on the left side of the magic sword.
The talisman paper was pre-cut, each sheet being three inches wide and seven inches long. The cinnabar ink was also made from top-quality cinnabar, and a sweet and fishy smell wafted out when it was ground.
Finally, he took out a copper coin strung on a red string from the bottom of the bundle.
The copper coin was round on the outside and square on the inside, covered in rust, but the four characters "Taiping Tongbao" could still be vaguely seen on its surface.
Lu Yuan hung the copper coin above the compass, about three inches above the surface, and let it rotate slowly.
"The Three Powers are positioned, the Four Symbols protect the altar, the Five Directions guard the area, the Six Ding protect the body, the Seven Stars shine, and the Eight Trigrams encompass everything."
Lu Yuan inserted the peach wood sword into the left front of the yellow cloth, with the tip of the sword pointing diagonally to the ground. He then took out a handful of incense ash and sprinkled it evenly around the yellow cloth, forming a faint circle.
With everything arranged, Lu Yuan took a half step back and carefully examined the temporary altar.
The tablets of the Three Pure Ones are in the center, the tablets of the Patriarchs are on the left, and the tablets of all the saints are on the right. The Dharma sword is laid out horizontally, the compass is turning, the candles are burning brightly, and the incense smoke is billowing.
In the cold, damp valley, beneath this giant rock, it seemed as if a world of its own had been created.
It stood out from the gloomy atmosphere of the outside world, exuding a calm and dignified Taoist aura.
Xu Erxiao's eyes lit up, and he lowered his voice, saying, "Brother Lu, the rim of this jar is beautifully decorated!"
Wang Cheng'an nodded, a look of relief in his eyes: "With this altar, we have enough confidence."
Lu Yuan did not relax. He took out three protective amulets from his pocket and gave one to each of them to stick on their chests and backs.
He then pressed the last one to his chest, patted his clothes, and said in a deep voice, "The altar is set up, and the energy is settled."
"Now, we wait for the moment when the evil aura of dusk is at its strongest."
He looked up at the lonely, swaying willow tree outside the giant rock, a glint of light flashing in his eyes: "At that time, I will use this Three Pure Ones Altar to draw upon the righteous energy of the five directions, suppress the evil spirit piercing the heart of that willow tree, and break the evil god's worship pattern in this Savage Gully!"
The three of them fell silent, sat cross-legged beside the yellow cloth, closed their eyes to regulate their breathing, and quietly waited for nightfall.
In the valley, only the willow tree swaying without wind and the low wailing of countless withered bones echoed in my ears.
Time flowed slowly in silence.
There was no sunlight in the valley, only a sliver of sky overhead, which gradually turned from pale white to grayish-yellow, and then sank into twilight.
Lu Yuan and his two companions took turns on guard duty. One of them kept an eye on the willow tree and the valley below, while the other two closed their eyes to regulate their breathing and conserve their energy.
At noon, Xu Erxiao rummaged through the box and found a few dried biscuits and a small jar of pickled vegetables.
The three of them hastily filled their stomachs with the cold water from the water bags.
The dry biscuit was so hard it hurt his teeth. Xu Erxiao's cheeks ached from biting it, and he muttered under his breath, "This damn place, even the biscuits are three times harder than elsewhere."
Wang Chengan didn't speak, he just chewed silently, his gaze never leaving the direction of the willow tree.
In the afternoon, the light in the valley began to dim at a visible rate.
It wasn't the natural, dusky yellow of sunset, but a grayish-black mist, as if seeping from cracks in the ground, spreading upwards layer by layer.
The willow tree's branches swayed even more violently, moving on their own without wind, as if countless invisible hands were pulling on every hanging strand.
Lu Yuan looked at the compass. The magnetic needle had stopped vibrating and was firmly fixed at the base of the willow tree, without moving an inch.
"Soon."
Before he could finish speaking, it was completely dark.
It wasn't the kind of darkness that comes with evening; it was as if someone had suddenly slammed a huge black pot over the Savage Gully, swallowing up all the light.
The candlelight beneath the boulder suddenly leaped up, spreading outwards in a halo of dim yellow light.
But the edge of the halo seemed to be bitten by something, jagged and uneven, unable to extend outward even a fraction of an inch.
Just as darkness descended, a gong suddenly sounded from below the valley.
"clang"
The gong sounded deep and worn, as if it were coming from an old, rusted bronze gong that had been struck for decades.
The sound echoed back and forth between the valley walls, carrying an indescribable sense of desolation.
Immediately following is the second tone.
"Thump"
It was the sound of drums, so deep and muffled it seemed to be pounding inside one's chest, making one's heart clench.
Then came a sharp, high-pitched sound from a huqin, a sound like a steel wire piercing straight into the eardrums and churning in the brain.
What followed was a chorus of voices—female, male, painted-face, and clown—as if an entire opera troupe were singing simultaneously in this deep valley.
But the sound was wrong.
The singing style was unrecognizable; it sounded like someone was imitating a traditional opera singer, but the imitation was poor.
Each syllable was drawn out excessively, twisting and turning seven or eight times, with a sobbing, choked tone.
The female voice is shrill like a woman wailing at a funeral, the male voice is low and hoarse like something is stuck in the throat, and the female voice is rough like sand rubbing against iron.
All the sounds mingled together, echoing and swirling in the dark valley.
It sent chills down your spine, making the hairs on the back of your head stand on end.
Lu Yuan suddenly opened his eyes, his right hand already gripping the magic sword lying across the yellow cloth.
Xu Erxiao and Wang Chengan were also startled at the same time. Their eyes met for a moment in the dim candlelight, and they all saw the same wariness and coldness in each other's eyes.
"Don't make a sound."
Lu Yuan said in a low voice, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.
"Go behind the rock and see what's underneath."
The three of them crouched low, pressed themselves against the huge, dark blue rock, and slowly moved to the edge.
Lu Yuan was at the front, pressing his body against the cold rock wall, only peeking out half of his face, his gaze passing over the rock's ridges and looking down into the valley below.
Then, his pupils suddenly contracted.
In the valley below, a stage appeared at some unknown time.
The stage was enormous, measuring three zhang square. The stage surface was made of old, blackened wooden planks, some of which were rotten and broken, revealing dark, gaping holes underneath.
Four thick wooden pillars stood around the platform, their surfaces wrapped with faded red silk and yellowed paper flowers.
In the dim light, the red silk looked like dried bloodstains.
A canopy was erected above the platform, its fabric tattered and hanging down in wisps that swayed gently in the still air.
The strangest thing was that there were eight lanterns lit around the stage.
The lantern was a stark white, the paper was frayed and unevenly pasted, revealing the dim yellow candlelight inside.
The candlelight flickered strangely, sometimes bright and sometimes dim, but it never went out.
The lantern light shone on the stage, shrouding the entire stage in a ghastly white light, as if painting everything with the color of a corpse.
There are people on the stage.
No, that's not a person.
Standing on the stage were a row of "things" dressed in theatrical costumes.
The one on the far left is an old woman, wearing a dark blue opera robe.
The material of the opera robe was indistinguishable; it resembled silk or some kind of coarse cloth, and under the light, it had a greasy sheen.
The old woman's face was covered with a thick layer of white powder, so white it was unbelievable, like a layer of paper peeled off her face.
There was a round patch of rouge on each cheek, so red it was almost blinding, like two congealed blood clots.
Her lips were painted bright red, but the corners of her mouth were stiffly stretched upwards, revealing an unchanging, chilling smile.
Her eyes never closed for a moment, remaining wide open with her pupils fixed straight ahead.
His pupils were like two black holes, completely empty.
Next to the old woman is a young woman, wearing a pink opera skirt with the hem trailing on the stage and long water sleeves reaching down to her knees.
Her face was also incredibly white, but her features were drawn even more delicately, and her eyes and brows exuded the charming allure of a young lady from a traditional opera.
But her neck was crooked, tilted to the left at an unnatural angle, as if her neck bone had been broken and then put back in a crooked position.
The actress's mouth opened and closed as if she were singing something, but the sounds that came out did not match her lip movements.
Her mouth was singing a female role, but what came out was the low, hoarse voice of a male role, as if another person's voice was being forced out of her throat.
Further to the right was a martial arts performer dressed in a white ceremonial robe with four small flags stuck on his back, but those flags were all drooping listlessly, as if they had been soaked in water.
The martial arts actor's face was bluish-gray, without any makeup, just exposed, with deep-set eyes, high cheekbones, and purple lips.
He held a long spear in his hand, the tip of which was rusted, and a few strands of black hair were wrapped around the shaft.
The martial arts performer doesn't sing; he just walks back and forth on stage.
His gait was strange; each step was extremely steady, but his knees did not bend, as if he were moving with two wooden sticks.
When he reaches the center of the stage, he will suddenly turn around, his movements stiff as a marionette, and then continue walking and turning, never stopping.
In the center of the stage, there was an old man dressed in a black robe with a long white beard that had turned yellow and black and stuck together in clumps.
The old man stood motionless in the center of the stage with his eyes closed, but his lips were moving rapidly, as if he were reciting something.
He spoke very softly, but it was heard very clearly in the valley.
It sounded like countless people whispering at the same time, the sound drilling into your ears and making your head buzz.
The scariest thing isn't any of that.
The most terrifying thing is that none of the "people" on the stage had their feet on the table.
Those feet were dangling about three inches above the table.
The embroidered shoes of the old female role, the bow shoes of the young female role, the black boots of the martial male role, and the cloth shoes of the old male role were all suspended in the air.
It was as if an invisible hand was lifting them up, putting on a show that didn't even exist.
Their shadows, cast on the table under the pale light, were completely out of sync with their movements.
When the shadow makes one movement, the "person" on the stage is making another movement, as if there is a moment's time between the shadow and the real person.
Some shadows even moved a beat faster than the person on stage; the shadows moved before the person on stage even moved.
The light from those eight lanterns couldn't reach anywhere outside the stage.
The edge of the stage seemed to be an invisible wall, locking all the light onto the stage surface, while the ground around the stage was even darker, as dark as an abyss.
Xu Erxiao's teeth were chattering, making a faint "clucking" sound.
He clenched his teeth desperately, but the chill had already crept up his spine to the back of his head, causing all the muscles in his body to tremble uncontrollably.
Wang Cheng'an gripped the amulet tightly to his chest, his knuckles turning white.
His face was also very pale, his lips were tightly pursed, and the muscles at the corners of his eyes were twitching.
Lu Yuan's breathing quickened for a moment, but he quickly suppressed it.
He stared at the eerie stage below, his mind racing.
When did this opera troupe appear?
The three of them stayed behind the boulder for a whole day, their eyes never leaving the valley below, but the opera troupe just appeared out of nowhere.
There was no sound, no warning; it seemed to have grown out of the ground.
Speaking of this opera troupe, I overheard some people drinking at the inn last night talking about it. They said there was some big opera troupe in Wild Man's Valley—
I didn't expect to see it as soon as I came in!
As for the large opera troupe below, they are certainly not people, nor are they a legitimate opera troupe.
They are evil spirits!
It is something that grew from the willow tree in this Savage Gully after it absorbed the essence of countless dead people.
They are no longer individual souls, but puppets formed by that evil aura, and are part of this entire system of offerings to the evil god.
Lu Yuan took a slow breath, suppressing the chill in his fingertips, turned around and gestured to the two of them, saying in an extremely low voice, "Don't move."
"Don't make a sound."
"They are singing."
"When they finish their first act, the evil aura will be at its strongest, which will also be the best time for our altar ritual."
Just then, the old man on the stage suddenly opened his eyes.
His eyes were pure white, without pupils, like two boiled fish eyes.
The moment he opened his eyes, all the sounds of gongs, drums, erhu, and singing on the entire stage stopped.
All the movements of the "people" also stopped at the same time.
The old man slowly turned his head and looked in the direction of the boulder.
His face was expressionless, but his two white eyes seemed to pierce through the darkness and rocks, locking onto the location of Lu Yuan and the other two.
Then, he grinned.
His lips parted, revealing a set of jet-black teeth and a tongue that was equally jet-black.
He let out a sharp, drawn-out laugh.
Like the sound of fingernails scratching a blackboard, amplified dozens of times, echoing throughout the entire Savage Valley.
Immediately afterwards, all the "people" on the stage turned their heads, and all their eyes turned to look in the direction of the boulder.
At the same moment, all the "people" spoke in unison, using a voice that didn't belong to any particular opera style, lightly uttering the sentence: "Come—to—watch—a—play—ah—!"