Chapter 442: S Private Room

If you talk about leadership, Cheng Shuili is well‑versed in it.

Although she doesn't do it, it doesn't stop her from remembering the leadership styles from her past life.

In ordinary people's eyes, helping subordinates solve problems is a display of leadership, but Cheng Shuili knows that's only the most basic level.

True leadership, summed up in four characters, is "making trouble when there's none."

"Temporarily seal?"

Cheng Shuili slightly furrowed her brow, her tone carrying a perfectly measured hint of displeasure and scrutiny, "Is this how your procedure runs? The director hasn't been around lately; this safety hazard left unattended, waiting for the next time they'll tear the entire backstage apart?"

Cheng Shuili is clever; when she mentions the procedure, she only says "procedure," unaware of the specifics and doesn't bring them up.

And the director matter was spoken directly by the Gray Puppet before her, absolutely genuine.

She brings it up in a tone that already knows, which only adds credibility to this fictitious identity.

The lead Gray Puppet's simply drawn eyes seemed to widen a bit, and in its flat tone, an unusual stutter appeared: "This… the director said… wait for him to return…"

"Wait for him to return?" Cheng Shuili Qing Qing hummed, cutting it off, "If he returns, he'll probably see a pile of waste and a performance accident. Do you want to take responsibility?"

She took a small step forward, her sharp gaze sweeping over the puppets busy repairing the curtain and cleaning; her voice was low, yet it made every Gray Puppet's movement pause.

She thought to herself that these guys truly aren't scared; even a tenth of the leadership tactics from her past life would have terrified them.

Her face, however, wore a "you're too unprofessional" expression as she questioned again, "The basic workflow has become this lax?"

The lead Gray Puppet's head seemed to droop even lower, "S‑sorry… we were just following the usual…"

"The old convention is to bundle up the incident and toss it aside? That kind of shoddy handling was acceptable before," Cheng Shuili interrupted again, disappointment evident in her tone, "Now I'm here. From today onward, change it."

Her tone was decisive, leaving no room for doubt.

The lead Gray Puppet's body visibly stiffened, its simply drawn eyes staring straight at Cheng Shuili, seemingly contemplating her words seriously.

Cheng Shuili gave it no chance for deep thought, her sharp gaze sweeping over the other Gray Puppets behind it that were peeking this way.

"What? Still need me to teach you how to do it?"

Her voice suddenly deepened, bearing the coldness of long‑held authority and a hint of impatience.

Ordinary people really can't fake this.

The lead Gray Puppet shivered, almost immediately bowing its head, its flat voice becoming urgent and obedient:

"No, we dare not! Please give us instructions!"

Done.

Completely frightened.

Cheng Shuili was certain in her heart, but her face still kept that "my time is precious" indifferent expression, casually issuing a few universally applicable orders for the Gray Puppets to carry out.

Only then did she fix her gaze on the lead puppet, assuming a superior stance, Qing Qing coughed lightly.

【9】 That was obviously hinting at something.

This obviously hints at something.

But the Gray Puppets could even mistake their leader, so naturally they couldn't understand her hint.

Cheng Shuili waited for a while; seeing the puppets remain still, she turned her head to glance at it.

It stood aside, its body twisted like a pretzel from nerves, its facial expression equally anxious, clearly unsure what to do.

Cheng Shuili, taken aback by this naively simple reaction, gave a light cough twice and spoke, "Take me to a place to rest for a while, and then we'll discuss the Juchang's issues properly."

The Gray Puppet then suddenly understood, hurriedly nodding, bowing to signal Cheng Shuili to follow it.

It led Cheng Shuili, carefully slipping in from the spot where the curtain had been torn and then sewn back together.

It lifted a corner of the heavy velvet, revealing an even noisier, more chaotic scene.

Indeed, this was the backstage of the Juchang, a huge, dim, maze‑like space divided by countless frames, curtains, and scattered props.

The air was mixed with dust, wood shavings, and cheap perfume.

Warm yellow light came from scattered bulbs hanging from the ceiling and frames, flickering and casting countless trembling shadows onto the layered dark curtains all around.

Cheng Shuili glanced around and saw a variety of actors.

There were characters wearing hoods like Little Red Riding Hood or the Big Bad Wolf, but most were humanoid forms cobbled together from tattered costumes and puppet joints, filled with stuffing, wearing various masks, each different in shape yet all exuding an inhuman stiffness and oddness.

Maintenance puppets moved through the area, busy and silent.

They lifted fallen prop stands, picked up scattered feathers, wiped dust from tables with cloths, or, like herding disobedient sheep, gently yet firmly escorted actors who were too close to dangerous zones away.

The Gray Puppet led Cheng Shuili along a relatively spacious passage inward.

As soon as they entered, the actors froze like fish that sensed a scent of blood, countless gazes converging from all directions.

Those looks weren't entirely hostile, more numb, or hollow curiosity.

Those wearing character hoods had deep, hollow eye sockets. The cobbled humanoids' crude eye lines on their masks also turned the same way.

The background sounds of murmuring, rehearsing, or arguing each fell eerily silent at that moment.

Only the rustling of maintenance puppets cleaning and moving continued, yet it sounded even more suppressed.

Cheng Shuili kept moving, not even a flicker in her gaze.

She maintained that cold, slightly displeased aura, as if everything around her was already commonplace, even a bit weary of this pointless attention.

But inside she was once again relieved to have frightened the lead Gray Puppet.

She saw clearly that the actors' only reaction to this sudden stranger was to attack!

And now the reason they remained still instead of charging was because the lead puppet stood in front of Cheng Shuili.

The puppet, completely unaware of its role, when sensing the gazes, even straightened its crude body further, deliberately lowering its flat voice to explain to Cheng Shuili:

"These actors… sometimes get a bit curious. Please don't mind, they don't dare to disturb…"

Cheng Shuili Qing Qing let out a light "mm" from her nasal passage, as a response.

Her gaze swept over a few nearby cobbled actors trying to approach, her eyes calm and unruffled, bearing a top‑down detachment and warning.

Without her saying a word, the Gray Puppet moved ahead, its flat voice suddenly rising, carrying the urgent tone unique to order‑keeping:

"Step back! Everyone step back! Do not obstruct passage!"

It even unconsciously waved its hand, which held no tool, making a shooing gesture.

Those few restless assembled actors froze in motion, their masks seeming to show reluctance or confusion, yet they indeed halted their approach and even slowly retreated a short distance.

Cheng Shuili felt a slight stir in her heart.

These actors seem to have a deep-rooted apprehension or obedience toward the maintenance of the puppets.

Even when facing her, an obvious outsider, as long as the puppet maintainers show their attitude, they will somewhat restrain themselves.

This gave her greater room to maneuver.

"Lead the way." Cheng Shuili spoke again, her tone still that unquestionable flatness.

"Yes, yes, this way." The Gray Puppet hurriedly replied, leading her briskly through this slightly crowded area and turning into a passage whose sides were piled with crates and baskets and hung with old costumes.

In the dim light, those hanging garments resembled silent, bloated ghosts.

The further they went, the dimmer the light became, and the air grew increasingly stagnant.

The feeling of being scrutinized by countless hollow gazes had not completely vanished, but seemed blocked by layers of obstacles, becoming vague and distant.

Finally, the puppet pushed open a small door with blotchy paint set into a wooden partition, stepped aside, and invited Cheng Shuili to enter.

Inside was an extremely crude room.

The room held a transparent glass coffee table, two chairs that looked rather luxurious, and most importantly, this seemed to be the theater's SVIP room.

Not only could one see the stage scenery, but also the audience's seats.

Now only a few people sat in the seats; judging by their attire, Cheng Shuili could tell at a glance that they were all players.

It seemed her guess was correct; ordinary clearance skills could only reach the theater's audience seats.

And she…

Having come all the way from backstage, she entered the SVIP room and even became the leader in the hearts of this group of puppets.

The difference between these two routes will surely bring many differences.

Cheng Shuili had already begun to anticipate.

After walking around the room, she turned her head toward the Gray Puppet still standing behind the door and said, "Close the door."

"Yes." The Gray Puppet immediately turned, consciously stood outside the door, carefully closed the door panels, shutting out the faint noise and prying from outside.

Only then did Cheng Shuili relax a little.

She let out a long breath, sat in the chair, and turned her head to look outside.

The door was gently pushed open a crack, a somewhat disheveled figure slipped in, and then quickly shut the door tightly.

Obviously, this was also a player.

This person wore a neat dark outfit, but the cuffs and pant legs were stained with much moss and mud, the hair was somewhat disheveled, breathing carried a hint of urgency, obviously having encountered some trouble in the corridor beforehand.

Cheng Shuili stared at him, lost in thought.

Compared like this, the route she had chosen seemed better.

Or rather, it was just right for her.

After all, ordinary people wouldn't bring a bucket of water into an instance, let alone have the Abyssal Ring, such a cheat item.

Cheng Shuili no longer imagined that unknown road in her mind; looking at the audience situation, she should wait until the players have mostly arrived, or until a certain point, before the next procedure begins.

What comes next is time; she only needs to wait patiently.

Cheng Shuili raised her hand to take out the box of watermelon chunks used to lure Little Red Riding Hood, placed it on the coffee table, opened it, speared a piece with a fork and put it in her mouth, leisurely enjoying it.

The refreshing, sweet juice spread across her tongue, temporarily dispelling the stale, cloying sweetness in the air.

While eating, Cheng Shuili, behind the glass, observed the movements of the audience below without showing any emotion.

As time passed, more and more players appeared in the audience seats.

They were mostly wary, carrying the unique tension of entering an instance, carefully seeking seats, rarely communicating with each other, only exchanging glances to size each other up.

Occasionally, a few from the same team, although talking, kept their voices extremely low, and were soon drowned out by the theater's own faint rustling whispers and the off-key humming drifting from deep within the stage.

Cheng Shuili counted, including the one who had just entered, there were about twelve people in the audience seats.

Most importantly, she did not see a single trace of Qing Qing among them.

Cheng Shuili didn't know whether Qing Qing hadn't arrived or had taken another route like her, but regardless of what happened to Qing Qing, it didn't concern her much.

Just as she put the last watermelon piece into her mouth and set down the fork, the theater's internal lighting dimmed without warning.

All lighting focused on the huge stage ahead, the audience seats fell into an ambiguous gloom, only able to barely make out the outlines of those nearby.

The stage's heavy crimson curtain, amid the grating sound of the winch turning, slowly opened to both sides.

On the stage was displayed a set of ordinary static scenery.

A playhouse constructed of rough wooden boards and colored paper, with a whimsical style, stood beside paper-made trees, under which lay several brightly colored mushroom dolls.

The warm-toned cardboard and dolls strove to create a fairy-tale-like cozy feeling.

The cottage's windows were painted with smiling arcs, and even a wisp of meticulously crafted, immobile smoke made from cotton wadding rose from the chimney.

The paper tree's leaves were lush tender green, the mushroom dolls were round and cute, bearing exaggerated smiles.

Everything looked as if it had been cut and pasted straight from a children's picture book.

Next, the actors appeared.

A petite figure in a puffy skirt, wearing a Little Red Riding Hood head covering, with her back to the audience, slowly walked to the cottage.

After striking a pose, she became like a statue, with no further movement.

There was no announcement, no music, and no narration.

Under the gaze of all the audience, a prop axe that had been set up beforehand fell from the sky, striking straight at the sole actor on stage.

That axe, which looked blatantly fake, passed straight through the puppet's head, followed immediately by a dull creak of the wooden board.

Not only the stage puppet, but even the floor was slit by that axe, which appeared to have no lethal power.

Stuffing and the puppet's fabric scattered across the ground; it never even made a motion, and thus ended its performance.

And that red hat...

In the split second before the axe came down, with a gust of wind from nowhere, it floated lightly toward the audience seats.

Amid the silent, tense gaze of all the players, the hat, as if it had chosen its target, landed precisely on one player's head.

That person wore an ordinary dark coat, looked about thirty, and their face was somewhat blurred in the dim light.