Chapter 182

Song Lin lowered his head and said dejectedly: "Actually, Master signed a contract with the village chief; if the play can't be performed, we must pay fivefold compensation, fifty or sixty thousand yuan per play; if we really follow the contract, I'm afraid Master will lose the whole opera troupe."

Under our relentless questioning, Song Lin finally revealed the truth.

Pangzi was stunned, then immediately asked Song Lin: "Did your uncle sign a contract with the village chief?"

Song Lin nodded dejectedly and said: "Yes, we only found out after signing the contract…"

"After signing the contract we found out, found out what?" I asked doubtfully.

Song Lin sighed and then told us: actually, this village hires people to perform plays every year, but no opera troupe can ever finish a performance. Almost every time a troupe performs, they encounter strange and eerie things. Eventually, no one dares to perform plays in this village.

Pangzi grew increasingly displeased as he listened, finally rolled up his sleeves and snapped: "Everyone knows no one dares to show up, yet they still invited my uncle to perform this damned play, and even signed a contract under the pretense of propriety—are they obviously trying to screw over my uncle?"

Saying that, he rolled up his sleeves and prepared to settle accounts with that so‑called village chief.

"Actually, you can't blame the village chief!" Song Lin said helplessly: "When they were discussing it, the village chief told Master the situation, but Master didn't think much of it, brushed it off, and casually agreed. The village chief followed proper procedure in drawing up the contract, so he's not to blame either."

"Sigh…" Pangzi sighed, loosening his clenched fists, and resignedly said: "This uncle, really…"

Pangzi's mood at this moment was both worried and stifled—worried about the safety of the Liu Family Troupe, and stifled that his uncle doted on him to such an extent that he'd rather see the troupe collapse than let Pangzi put himself at risk.

"Instead of sighing here, let's think of another way!" I patted Pangzi's shoulder and comforted: "It's getting late; we should head back, thinking as we go, or else your uncle will worry again."

Pangzi nodded glumly: "That's all we can do."

Following the dark, winding goat‑track, Pangzi, Song Lin and I grabbed our flashlights and rushed back to Liu Guozhong's residence.

When we got back, we found several uninvited guests inside the house.

An old man leaning on a cane sat opposite Liu Guozhong, with two young men standing behind him.

As soon as we stepped inside, we vaguely heard the old man discussing Peking opera with Liu Guozhong; from the few words we caught, we realized this old man was the village chief of Hu Village.

"Hey, you guys, do you really have to bully people like this? The deadline for handing over the play hasn't even arrived, and you're already rushing to seize my uncle's opera troupe?" Having heard only a couple of sentences, Pangzi flew into a rage, rushed up to the village chief, slammed his hands on the table, and glared at the three of them.

The village chief Hu was startled by Pangzi's shout; the two young men quickly stepped forward, shielding the old village chief behind them.

"Hey hey, Xiaoqiang, don't be impulsive—you've misunderstood the old village chief's intention," Liu Guozhong said, pulling Pangzi behind him and repeatedly apologizing to the old village chief.

"Village Chief Hu, I'm truly sorry—my nephew has just arrived and doesn't know what's going on. This may have caused a misunderstanding; please forgive us, sir." Liu Guozhong bowed his hands in apology to the old village chief.

"What misunderstanding, uncle? The deadline for handing over the opera troupe hasn't arrived yet, and this old man is already rushing to take it away—who would believe there's no foul play?" Pangzi insisted.

Liu Guozhong wasn't angry; he just waited for Pangzi to finish, then patiently explained: "Village Chief Hu isn't here to take the opera troupe; he's here to discuss things with your uncle."

At this point Pangzi was surprised, looking at the two of them bewildered and asked: "Discuss? Discuss what?"

"Heh…" The village chief Hu across from us smiled amiably and said slowly: "Little one, you've misunderstood—I'm not here to collect the opera troupe from Master Liu. I came to discuss with Master Liu whether the play can still go on. If it really can't, Master Liu would refund one‑third of the money to our village, after all we signed a contract and spent so much manpower and material resources helping build the stage; if we don't collect some penalty, the old guy on the village committee won't let me off the hook."

After the village chief Hu finished speaking, Pangzi's face flushed red as a monkey's butt. It was now clear that the village chief wasn't here to cause trouble. The difference between a fivefold penalty and a one‑third penalty is obvious—clearly the village chief just wanted to go through the motions to quiet village gossip.

After a moment of blushing, Pangzi snapped back, thumping his chest with a bang: "Chief, rest assured—I guarantee that as long as the date arrives, this play will surely be performed on the village's newly built stage for the elders and fellow villagers."

"Really"—the village chief Hu froze at that moment, lost in a daze.

"Shut up"—just as the village chief Hu stared blankly, Liu Guozhong grabbed Pangzi, glared at him fiercely, and snapped: "You little brat, what do you know? Don't go puffing up your face to look fat here."

... Actually, Liu Guozhong's remark was mistaken—Pangzi doesn't need to swell his face; he's naturally a fat guy.

However, this nervous uncle didn't even notice his logical mistake; he was about to bow and apologize to the village chief Hu, but before he could utter the 'Hu' syllable, Pangzi yanked him back.

"Uncle, I'm not lying—I've already figured out the cause of the haunting and grasped the nature of that thing. Dealing with it will be easy for us; you can rest completely at ease."

Not only Liu Guozhong, but even I was baffled—when did Pangzi figure out the details of that thing? How could I not know?

Liu Guozhong eyed Pangzi suspiciously and asked: "Xiaoqiang, have you really figured out the opponent's details and are you truly confident? Or are you just deceiving your uncle?"

"Really… I examined those brothers' injuries today and already deduced from their aura which demon is causing the trouble. Uncle, rest assured—we won't have to pay compensation; the play can go on." After assuring Liu Guozhong, Pangzi turned to the village chief Hu and promised: "Chief Hu, rest assured—once the date arrives, the play will surely appear on the stage intact and flawless."

The village chief Hu's breathing grew more rapid, even shedding excited tears: "Little one, are you really telling the truth, not just trying to soothe this old man?" He gripped Pangzi's hand tightly, unable to contain his excitement.

"Really, so you must not collect any penalty; instead, you should have the money ready!" Pangzi said, still holding the village chief Hu's hand, eyes shining.

The village chief Hu waved his hands excitedly: "No problem—as long as you can put on the play, our village won't ask for a refund; we're even willing to add an extra thirty percent for you. As long as you perform the play, any amount is fine." The village chief Hu was so excited he almost stumbled over his tongue.

I gently nudged Song Lin, feeling puzzled as to why the village chief was so nervous. After all, it's just a play—how could his reaction swing as wildly as someone who wins the lottery and then loses his father?

Song Lin lowered his voice and whispered in my ear: "This village used to be a famous anti‑Japanese base, with many retired Eighth Route Army soldiers living here. First, the resistance is a memory for these elders; second, they don't want their descendants to forget their roots, they want them to know how this peaceful life came about, and hope that generation after generation will inherit the elders' will and glory."

"'So they want to express it through a stage play!' I understood instantly. I said, 'No wonder the village chief values this play so highly—there's this hidden meaning after all.' Indeed, they had long wanted to show the villagers a glimpse of the anti‑Japanese era, but no troupe could pull it off. Now Pangzi pats his chest and promises the village chief Hu; one can imagine how delighted the chief must be."

At the end, the village chief Hu kept thanking Pangzi over and over; finally, escorted by the two young men, he left the house with a flushed face and refreshed spirit, walking out with big steps.

When only the four of us remained inside, Liu Guozhong's face darkened; he glared at Song Lin and snapped: "Who let you run your mouth like that?"

Song Lin lowered his head, afraid to look at Liu Guozhong.

"'Uncle, this was originally just a small matter—nothing to do with Lin Ge'er. Even if he hadn't spoken, I could easily settle it.'" Pangzi hurried out to smooth things over.

"'Sigh… forget it!'" Liu Guozhong waved his hand, sighed, and though he said nothing more, his expression showed he had finally decided not to pursue the matter.

"'I also know Linzi's painstaking effort—I can't bear to see the troupe collapse.'" Liu Guozhong sighed again, then told Pangzi: "Stay tonight, let's have a couple of drinks, and meanwhile tell your uncle the details of that thing; otherwise my heart will remain uneasy."

"'Ah… I can't, uncle!'" Pangzi rubbed his eyes, yawned, half‑asleep: "I spent half a day treating those brothers; now my head and body are exhausted, I can't muster the energy. I want to sleep first and drink with you another day."

Seeing Pangzi truly exhausted, Liu Guozhong felt sorry and didn't press further; he quickly had Song Lin lead the two of us to a room to rest.

The room Song Lin led us to had only two wooden beds, with straw mats worn and torn. However, Pangzi and I didn't mind—having chosen the Daoist path, we must be ready to endure hardship; without enduring hardship, one cannot master martial arts nor become a Daoist.

After seeing Song Lin off and closing the door, Pangzi and Pangzi each chose a bed and climbed onto it.

A few minutes later, unable to contain my curiosity, I asked the Pangzi on the other bed: "Pangzi, tell me, what exactly is the origin of that thing?"

Who would have thought, Pangzi muttered dazedly and countered: "What, what origin?"

"'You know, the thing that's been haunting the brothers in the opera troupe?'"

"'Hell if I know where it comes from—I haven't even seen what it looks like!'"

I jumped up, eyes wide open, and stammered: "You…… you didn't even figure out the details, yet you rashly promised the village chief—this…"

Pangzi rolled his eyes and disparaged me: "You don't know the value of firewood, rice, oil and salt because you're not managing the household—if we don't perform, we'll have to honestly pay up; one‑third of fifty thousand is about twenty thousand. Even a mosquito is still meat." Evidently, the miser calculates accounts down to the last detail, the abacus clicking away.

"'But… what if the troublemaker is a zombie? What would you do?'" I laughed despite myself.

Pangzi stared for a moment, then burst out laughing at me: "I told you it's impossible—you've watched too many movies; there are no zombies in this world."

I was momentarily speechless… unable to utter a word for a while. Not long after, the sound of Pangzi's snoring came from the room; I, however, lay awake on the bed, unable to close my eyes over this problem.

Perhaps, Pangzi is right. This world simply has no zombies.

But if there are no zombies, why are zombie stories passed down through generations?

Am I overthinking because I've watched too many movies? In ordinary people's eyes, don't they also think gods and ghosts don't exist, and that drawing talismans to exorcise ghosts is illusory?

And I, am I not currently engaged in a profession that ordinary people consider illusory, doing things that people think could only happen in movies?

Is it because I've never truly seen or experienced it, so it's unknown! Or is it really just an illusion?

Perhaps life is actually just a movie. On stage and off, it's all a play; we can no longer distinguish true from false. Thus, many genuine things have disappeared, wearing the guise of truth while essentially being false, yet they have replaced reality.

Isn't that so?.