Chapter 65: Longsheng Opera House

It happened at midnight!

Inside the room, Sha Lifei frowned, “I heard a noise, woke up, and found the Daoist had fallen off the kang. No matter how I called, he didn’t respond—I thought he’d had a sudden illness, so I hurried to fetch the village doctor.”

“The doctor was baffled too, until an old carpenter from the Wan family noticed something amiss and sent someone racing back to town to fetch Elder Wan—only then did we learn he’d been ambushed…”

Listening to Sha Lifei’s account, Li Yan’s face turned icy.

On the opposite bed, Wang Daoxuan clenched his teeth, fists tightly balled, body taut; around him, twelve oil lamps glowed, arranged in the pattern of the Twelve Earthly Branches.

Elder Wan’s expression was solemn: his left hand held half a bowl of clear water, his right held three chopsticks, murmuring incantations.

Then he picked up one chopstick, tapped it three times on Wang Daoxuan’s forehead, dipped it in the water, and stuck it upright in the center of the bowl.

Plop!

The chopstick did not stand—it fell to the ground.

Elder Wan narrowed his eyes and tried again.

Li Yan knew this method was called “mù liàng,” colloquially known as “standing chopsticks,” a widespread folk witchcraft.

Wang Daoxuan had told him about it—it was a form of divination.

Plop! Plop!

As the remaining two chopsticks fell, Elder Wan finally sighed and shook his head: “No reaction. His living soul has been seized.”

He looked at Wang Daoxuan on the bed: “Fortunately, Master Wang was sharp—he sensed danger and used the Spirit Platform Locking Technique before his soul departed, preventing anything else from taking over his body.”

Li Yan said grimly: “Elder, do you know who did this?”

“I know exactly.”

Elder Wan sneered: “The one who struck is Chen FaKui, a disciple of the Li Mountain Nine Yuan Sect. He’d secretly infiltrated Xianyang City and conspired with the White Ape Gang, aiming to use dark arts to break through his cultivation barrier.”

“Yesterday, I arrived at the City God Temple. The temple keeper, Daoist Qingyang, was furious—but to uncover the mastermind, he didn’t make a scene. Instead, he and I laid ambushes in Menggu Village.”

“At midnight, someone came. We captured him, interrogated him, and found he was a thug from the White Ape Gang. Following the trail, we learned Zhou Peide and Yuan Qu were collaborating with Chen FaKui.”

“That same night, the White Ape Gang was surrounded and crushed by the yamen’s troops. Daoist Qingyang personally set up an altar and summoned the Night Wanderers—but found no trace of him.”

“Zhou Peide has been imprisoned. According to his confession, Chen FaKui’s ritual was meant to lure Li Brother out of the village for an ambush.”

Sha Lifei growled: “The Zhou family truly acts like scum!”

“The Zhou family is finished.”

Elder Wan shook his head: “Using dark arts to steal fortune for breakthroughs violates the Profound Gate’s taboos. The Nine Yuan Sect’s lineage will purge him, and the Tai Xuan Orthodox Sect’s Enforcement Hall will strike too—Chen FaKui will surely die.”

“As for the Zhou family, when such a thing happens, their patron, Left Censor Lu, will immediately sever ties. Though Zhou the Monkey didn’t directly participate, without backing, his house will collapse when the tree falls and the monkeys scatter…”

“We’ll deal with the Zhou family later!”

Li Yan said grimly: “Our priority now is saving Master Wang. Elder, do you have a way?”

Elder Wan shook his head: “To imprison a living soul requires a wandering-soul jar or similar artifact. First, we must find it—if Chen FaKui destroyed the jar, Master Wang’s soul will scatter forever.”

Sha Lifei panicked: “If the wandering-soul jar’s in Chen FaKui’s hands, and that brat’s hiding somewhere we can’t even find in the City God Temple—what do we do?”

“Don’t rush. There’s another way.”

Elder Wan said: “Xianyang has many oddities. In the Longsheng Troupe, there’s a martial clown named Wu LaoSi. He’s obscure in the troupe, but he’s actually a Profound Gate cultivator—he’s opened his mental root and mastered the art of crossing over to the spirit realm.”

“He once suffered a trauma, grew disillusioned, and stopped helping others cross over. He hides his identity in the troupe—but he owes me a favor.”

“I’ll write him a letter to request his aid. Though he can’t summon back Master Wang’s soul, he can pinpoint its general location. With Li Brother’s abilities, you should find him.”

“Remember: never act against a Nine Yuan Sect disciple at night.”

“Also, I’ll use a secret method to protect Master Wang’s body—but his soul must be recovered within seven days, or it’s too late…”

…………

The Longsheng Troupe was the foremost opera troupe in Xianyang City.

Unlike itinerant troupes that set up temporary stages in villages, Longsheng Troupe had existed for a hundred years and performed year-round at Longsheng Garden near Xianyang’s Confucian Temple.

The people of Guanzhong loved opera, and tickets were often sold out.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Before today’s show even began, the theater’s page rang the gong at the entrance.

A curious onlooker glanced at the signboard—blank—and asked: “Hey, what play are they performing today?”

“Yeah, why’s there no title?”

Xianyang had plenty of idle rich folk; the entrance was already crowded. The page shouted: “Today, Boss Luo is in high spirits—he’s performing ‘Drunk Beating the Demon Monkey’ for three days straight, and it’s free for everyone!”

At this, the crowd erupted in discontent.

A plump young nobleman shook his head: “Forget it. Everyone knows ‘Drunk Beating the Demon Monkey’ is Boss Luo’s own creation. Last time he performed it, the White Ape Gang blocked the door—it was awful.”

“So now you’re putting it on because the Zhou family’s down?”

“Let Boss Luo cool off—we want ‘Stealing the Immortal Herb’ and ‘Deep Palace Grief.’ Miss Lü’s just become famous. To make a star, we need to support her…”

“Exactly! We don’t want to watch monkey fights!”

The page bowed apologetically: “Please understand. You all know Boss Luo’s temper—if he’s angry, he might shut the theater down.”

At this, the crowd grumbled about bad luck.

The greatest opera fanatic in Xianyang was none other than Boss Luo, Luo Shihai.

His ancestors had been high officials in the imperial court; after returning home, they became local magnates. Several streets in Xianyang belonged to them, along with vast farmlands—his descendants could live in luxury forever.

!

Luo Shihai himself, in his youth, was brilliant in literature and passed the scholar examination, but he had no interest in officialdom. Instead, he loved martial arts and became the master of Xianyang’s Bagua Gate.

He was born to luxury, lacking nothing.

The one thing he craved? Opera—obsessively.

Others who loved opera might just spend every day at the theater.

He bought the entire troupe and became its boss.

The origin of ‘Drunk Beating the Demon Monkey’ was well known.

Boss Luo had trained a brilliant young female lead, hoping to make a name for her in Chang’an and rival other theaters—but she hanged herself after being tormented by a Zhou family scion.

The incident caused a huge uproar.

Even Luo Shihai, who never meddled in martial affairs, nearly went to war with them—only after mediation did he settle it with a duel against Zhou Pan.

Though Luo Shihai was gifted and held the Bagua Gate mastership, he still fell short compared to Zhou Pan, who risked his life for advancement.

After his defeat, bitter and resentful, he composed ‘Drunk Beating the Demon Monkey.’

The entire play was nothing but insults and violence—purely an outlet for rage.

They had no interest in watching it.

But seeing the page’s firm stance, the crowd reluctantly dispersed.

These noble youths had endless amusements; they didn’t care about free tickets. But the poor treasured them—once they heard Longsheng Garden was offering free admission, they flooded in from all directions.

Among the crowd, Li Yan and Sha Lifei were squeezed in.

Li Yan hadn’t come to watch opera. He stepped beside the page, bowed, and said gravely: “Excuse me, is Wu LaoSi, the martial clown of your troupe, here?”

“Oh?”

The page noticed Li Yan’s Guanshan dao and studied his face—suddenly remembering something, his expression turned serious, and he made an odd hand gesture: “So you’re Li Brother. Are you here to present your card (pay respects) or just wandering the docks (casually)?”

The page himself was a member of the Liu Sect.

Li Yan said grimly: “Brother, don’t be tense. I’ve come on the invitation of an elder, to ask Wu Elder for a favor.”

He extended the formal invitation.

Wu LaoSi?

The martial clown of the troupe—quiet, unremarkable, never spoke much. How could he be connected to a blade-wielding man like Li Yan?

“Li Brother, wait a moment.”

Though puzzled, the page took the invitation and rushed inside. Moments later, he returned quickly: “Li Brother, come in. The show’s about to start. Wu LaoSi says he’ll find you after it ends.”

“Very well. Thank you.”

Li Yan nodded and entered the theater with Sha Lifei.

Behind them, the page watched them go, frowned, and muttered: “This kid’s trouble. I must tell Boss Luo—don’t let him stir up trouble.”

Saying this, he hurried off…

(End of Chapter)