Keep Singing

The atmosphere backstage shifted in an instant. Sensing something was wrong, Li Huowang’s expression tightened. He immediately tucked away the Heavenly Scripture, pulled back the curtain, and looked out.

What he saw made his blood run cold. The actors on stage and the musicians beside them had all frozen in terror, trembling where they stood.

His gaze swept forward, and his pupils shrank to pinpricks. There, sitting on a bench right below the stage, was the two-faced, small-footed woman he had encountered in the woods that day. She was crossing her legs, watching the opera alongside the black spirit tablets.

“It followed us? Has it latched on for good?”

“Don’t stop. Keep singing.” Li Huowang dragged a wooden stool to the very front of the stage, planted himself there with legs wide apart, and stared straight at the small-footed woman.

The sight of his back gave the Lü family troupe courage. They swallowed hard, exchanged glances, and the suona’s wail and the opera’s singing rose once more.

The small-footed woman’s gaze never left the stage. She paid no attention to Li Huowang’s hostility, as if her purpose this time was truly just to listen to the opera.

“I won’t move if it doesn’t move. I don’t believe it can stay once daylight comes.”

That’s what Li Huowang decided, and that’s what he did. Three months of life was something he would avoid spending if he could.

Thin mist began to seep from the floor of the ancestral hall. The atmosphere grew heavier, more oppressive.

Suddenly, the small-footed woman moved. Slowly, she reached out her plump right hand, grabbed two red candles from a plate, and stuffed them into her mouth. Crunch, crunch—she chewed.

She ate quickly. In no time, all the treasure candles on the eight-immortal table beside her were gone.

Then, the singing stopped again. The actor playing the young scholar on stage, Lü Xiucai, broke down sobbing in fear.

Without warning, the paper effigies that the Hu family had placed between the eight-immortal tables began to move. The ones with black skullcaps and bright red rouge on their cheeks reached out, lifted plates of red treasure candles from other tables, and floated them over to the small-footed woman.

“Hehehe~” A terrifying, piercingly thin laugh burst from the small-footed woman, making every member of the Lü troupe shake violently.

“Don’t stop! Keep singing!” Li Huowang’s roar exploded through the silent hall, shattering the fear in everyone’s heart.

“Si—iiing~!” Lü Zhuangyuan, dressed as an old man role, bellowed the cue. The music started again, louder and fiercer than before.

Everyone sang with all their might, as if trying to scream the terror out of their chests. Veins bulged on their foreheads; sweat poured down their faces.

The small-footed woman stopped laughing. Her face darkened, and she glared at Li Huowang with venomous intent. And it wasn’t just her—every paper effigy did the same.

Li Huowang didn’t flinch. He glared right back.

The third watch passed in this strange stalemate. Then came the fourth watch. The Lü troupe on stage was singing until their voices were nearly gone, but they dared not stop.

“Is it going to outlast me? How long is this thing planning to drag this out?” Li Huowang thought.

Just as he was hesitating whether to burn three months of his life and summon the Wandering Lord to settle this woman for good, the situation changed again. All the spirit tablets under the stage began to tremble for no reason.

Tatatatatata—the tablets knocked against the eight-immortal tables in a ceaseless rain-like patter.

That was the breaking point for the Lü family. They couldn’t take it anymore. They couldn’t handle just one of them—and now all of them were coming.

Seeing this, the small-footed woman began to laugh. She laughed with grotesque joy, the thin, piercing sound stinging Li Huowang’s ears.

But looking at the small-footed woman, Li Huowang’s lips curled into a smile of his own. A light, knowing smile.

“I think I’ve figured it out. With every move you’ve made, you’ve been trying to make them afraid of you.”

“If you don’t have some twisted human-like pleasure in fear, then I can only guess one thing: your food isn’t those candles. It’s the fear you squeeze out of them.”

The small-footed woman shot to her feet, her eyes filled with venom as she glared at him. Li Huowang knew he had guessed right.

“Boss Lü, don’t stop. Keep singing. Didn’t Master Hu say his ancestors wanted something cheerful? If you’re afraid the wind is getting in your eyes, just close them and keep going.”

“Hehehe. Tell me… do I look like a human, or do I look like a spirit?” With her plan in ruins, the small-footed woman gave a vicious grin, rose, and swayed as she began to close in on Li Huowang.

“I think you look like a split-ass egg that’s turned into a demon!” With a clang, Li Huowang drew the sword from his back in one motion and charged straight at her.

Now that he understood her game, all his hesitation vanished. This thing that played at being a ghost was far less dangerous than he had imagined.

They had just been two wolves afraid of each other.

A few strides and they met. Li Huowang swung his blade.

A flash of cold light. The woman was split in two. Pieces of red treasure candles spilled from her belly.

The upper half of her body scuttled behind him, reaching with her pale fingers for his back.

But before those ghastly fingers could touch his spine, they jerked back as if burned.

“Oh?” Li Huowang caught the reaction with sharp eyes. His heart leaped. It’s afraid of the Heavenly Scripture!

He threw away his sword, pulled out the Heavenly Scripture, and swung it flat against the small-footed woman’s face.

At the sight of the Scripture closing in, the small-footed woman’s face twisted in terror. She turned and fled.

In an instant, the tables had turned. Now it was Li Huowang, holding the Heavenly Scripture, who made her afraid.

Inside the Hu family ancestral hall, they circled each other for a good long while.

But as small as her feet were, she was fast. He chased her for ages and couldn’t land a single hit.

Breathing heavily, Li Huowang stared at the small-footed woman from across a table. This won’t work. Let’s see if I can drive her off.

“Get out! Do you hear me? I don’t want to see you again!”

The small-footed woman shot him one last venomous glare, then swayed her body into a dark corner of the hall and vanished.

Li Huowang picked up a lantern and approached the corner. There was nothing there.

Lü Zhuangyuan picked up the discarded sword from the floor, trotted over, and presented it with both hands.

Li Huowang took the hilt and slid the sword back behind his back. Then he saw Lü Zhuangyuan’s face twist into a fawning, ingratiating smile as he said, “Hehehe. Tell me… do I look like a human, or do I look like a spirit?”

No. Li Huowang’s heart seized. The singing hasn’t stopped! This Lü Zhuangyuan is fake!

The moment he realized it, the fake Lü Zhuangyuan lunged at him. Two pale hands pierced straight through Li Huowang’s body.

In an instant, a bone-deep cold flooded him. His emotions began to drain into darkness. Everything around him was sinking.