Chapter 299: Traces of the Night Watcher
All the Cultivators were on the mountain for the funeral, with only eight Disciple guards standing on the hill at the foot of the mountain, monitoring the kneeling commoners.
But as a surge of Qi suddenly erupted in the night, those eight Disciples instantly blacked out and collapsed to the ground.
At this moment, Ji You landed in a dark corner in front of the stage, looking up at the high platform.
The painted face on the stage had completed his opening appearance, then picked up a bundle from the table on the stage, as a long, drawn-out singing voice drifted over.
“In the dark room, I prepare, my heart like iron!”
“Tighten my clothes, tie my bag, my long sword polished like frost!”
“This body has long been pledged to the common people, to Cultivate into an Immortal—”
The martial painted face tightened his long sword and turned around: “To protect the four directions!”
At this moment, an Old Man entered the stage, took a few quick steps, lifted his robe, and declared: “Junior Brother, wait!”
“Senior Brother, Junior Brother’s mind is made up. Do not worry about my departure.”
“Even cats and dogs under the same roof feel attachment, let alone fellow Disciples for many years!”
The martial painted face listened, then pointed diagonally at the stage below: “Human ghost fires blaze in the night, while Immortals close their eyes and feign blindness! I’d rather be a sword suppressing evil in a wild grave than a wooden Carved beams in a golden hall!”
The Old Man’s hands trembled: “This journey will span a thousand mountains, Junior Brother.”
Below the high platform, Ji You stood leaning, listening to the drawn-out chanting from the stage, his eyes shimmering with a faint golden light—
This play by the Lang Family was called “Lang Family Old Ancestor Saves the World,” and it was said to be performed for nine full nights, starting at dusk each day and concluding at dawn when the rooster crowed.
The daytime was reserved for the troupe to rest, and the common people could return to their farming, only to come back and kneel before dusk.
The play for the first night was called “Leaving the Mountain,” telling the story of Lang Kun, who achieved great success in Cultivation in his early years, saw the suffering of the Human Race, descended the mountain to protect the four directions, waved his sleeve to bring rain during drought, and moved mountains with a mighty arm during floods.
At dawn, as “Leaving the Mountain” and “Wandering” reached their final act, the artists on the stage began to leave one by one.
Under the temporarily erected shed, the young troupe leader stepped out, cupped his hands, and thanked the main actors for their hard work.
He had supervised half of the previous night’s performance, and after confirming everything was smooth, he went to sleep for two hours. Now, still carrying the lingering fatigue, he saw off the artists and began to direct his assistants to come to the stage and change the scenery.
Last night, they performed “Leaving the Mountain,” with the backdrop depicting mountains and clouds. The next scene would require a backdrop of a small town and a lake.
Those backdrops already showed signs of age, not looking newly made. Especially the character “Lang” in “Lang Family Old Ancestor Saves the World” on the stage was temporarily sewn on with fabric of a different shade.
Ji You had already been able to confirm that this was indeed an old play that had been performed countless times, and not something newly written for Lang Kun.
He traveled from north to south, then changed course to the west, making a large detour, listening to various forms of performances.
Shadow puppetry, large drums, three-stringed instruments—most of the stories he heard were similar to those of Immortals like the Night Watcher slaying demons and evil, receiving the kneeling reverence of the common people. But this was the first time he heard someone singing about their origins.
Ji You knew that the repertoire of this troupe must contain more information.
So, he quietly left at dawn, found a secluded place to Body Refining, and then returned to the stage at the foot of Mount Wangyang at dusk.
The first night was “Leaving the Mountain,” the second night “Wandering,” followed by “Saving the World” and “Slaying Demons and Evil.”
This play was originally intended for the funeral of the Lang Family Old Ancestor, to receive the reverence of the common people, so the focus of the dramatic performance was still on singing praises.
Compared to the shadow puppetry, three-stringed instrument performances, and drum stories he had heard before, there wasn't much difference. However, Ji You still noticed some unique elements.
For instance, when the subsequent “Slaying Demons and Evil” began, many artists with green faces and ape teeth came on stage draped in black cloth.
Before their opening appearance, they would all hold up this black cloth and circle the stage once.
Ji You used to suffer from insomnia every night, took many sleeping pills, listened to sleep-aid music on video websites, and even listened to crosstalk and storytelling.
He remembered a saying from crosstalk and storytelling very clearly: “The storyteller’s mouth, the opera singer’s legs.”
It meant that a storyteller could cover ten thousand miles with a flick of his tongue, while an opera singer circling the stage once represented traveling all over the world.
In Ji You’s eyes, if the black cloth represented the night, then circling the stage once represented the night enveloping the world.
This bore a high degree of similarity to the story told in the book “The Night Watcher.”
And his Family’s tsundere ghost had a saying: if there are too many coincidences, then it’s definitely not a coincidence.
“A bit unnecessary.”
“This newly added character—”
On the fifth night, Ji You saw another difference besides the night.
Still within the story of “Slaying Demons and Evil,” a boy suddenly appeared beside the character similar to the Night Watcher.
The boy’s entrance was very simple: he was rescued by the world-guarding Immortal in the opera when passing by a farmstead. Being orphaned, he stayed by the Immortal’s side.
However, the boy had very few lines, mostly about eating and sleeping, with no significant meaning, which made Ji You feel that this specially arranged character seemed to be dispensable.
And in all the plays he had heard before, this little boy did not exist at all, and even the night represented by the cloth was rarely seen.
Perhaps this was because other operas, when referencing it, also realized that this character and setting were unnecessary, so they removed them.
But Ji You knew that both this boy and the black cloth must have a reason for existing in this opera.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been kept.
Performing opera is the most troublesome of all performance forms, requiring costumes, and practicing movements. Adding one more character would make it much more complicated, so there would naturally be no need to keep it.
On the eighth day, the sky was bright and clear.
Last night’s performance was still a segment similar to the slaying of evil spirits in Zhao Laotou’s shadow play. Lang Kun in the story was practically a savior,
protecting the four directions with just one person and one sword.
Ji You patiently listened to the end, then went to find a place to Body Refining, preparing to wait for this final performance.
For a grand opera that needed to be performed for several nights, the middle segments might be filled with passionate and stirring demon-slaying scenes, but the final act would inevitably have to reveal something different.
However, when he returned from his Cultivation in the afternoon, he found Mount Wangyue to be in a bit of a chaotic state.
Looking from afar, some small Sect who had come to pay their respects were blocked outside the gate, seemingly not allowed to enter.
It didn’t take long before countless Cultivators flew out from Mount Wangyue in the distant sky, drifting in all directions with surprise and bewilderment.
Looking up, they were densely spread across the sky, like ants moving house.
Commoners had already gathered at the foot of the mountain, waiting in panic. Seeing this scene, they immediately fell prostrate, their trembling bodies conveying fear and unease.
In fact, they had discovered from the first night that the Immortals guarding them would fall asleep as soon as the performance began.
So they weren’t truly kneeling, but rather squatting or sitting,
because if they were truly kneeling, their legs would be crippled not in nine days, but in just one night.
So when they saw the Immortals flying from the mountain, they thought their “disrespectful” behavior had been discovered, and they all waited for death in despair.
But after waiting for a long time, they realized that the Immortals had left.
Ji You also looked at the enormous Immortal residence on Mount Wangyue at this moment, his brows furrowing slightly.
Because just now, he had detected a surge of spiritual technique energy blossoming in the courtyard, then rapidly disappearing.
This was the grand funeral of the Lang Family Old Ancestor. Logically, no one should be engaging in combat, and the mourners leaving hastily before the nine-day mourning period was over also seemed very strange.
Nine has always been an auspicious number in Qingyun World.
The Human Race is divided into nine provinces, and Cultivation is divided into nine realms. Leaving on the eighth day seemed somewhat illogical.
However, Ji You was waiting to watch the final performance. Seeing that the well-rested artists had already gathered at the stage, he withdrew his gaze and didn’t pay too much attention.
“There are a few new characters—”
“They seem to be dressed very lavishly.”
Ji You surveyed the side of the stage, his gaze falling upon the unfamiliar characters, and he murmured to himself.
Because this play was meant to praise Lang Kun for achievements he himself was unaware of, aside from the misappropriated Lang Kun, the characters appearing, besides demons, were commoners awaiting rescue.
The commoners’ attire was very simple, all gray clothes and gray pants.
But the costumes of these characters today clearly indicated they were not commoners, which made Ji You feel that other character relationships might emerge.
However, as the play began, a group of solemn-faced Cultivators suddenly approached along the mountain from above.
The young troupe leader, the young Dan actress who was just about to go on stage, and the Old Man who had played many passerby roles were all called over. After a few reprimands, the three immediately looked panicked and returned to tell people to pack up their things.
At the same time, the Old Man also left in a hurry with a few assistants, returning half an hour later with four handcarts.
Immediately after, the troupe members frantically began loading the carts: one cart of costumes, one cart of props, and two carts of people. They finished packing by noon, intending to whip their horses and depart.
Not performing anymore?
Ji You frowned slightly, then stepped towards the lead carriage where the troupe leader was.
“Troupe leader.”
“Ah, it’s Young Master. Have I, Mo, met Young Master before?”
The people in the troupe had actually noticed him earlier, knowing that he listened to the opera every day, and seeing his attire, they knew he wasn’t an ordinary person.
His reply was humble.
Ji You glanced at the mansion on the mountain and said, "I've been listening to your opera for the past few days, and I think you sing exceptionally well. Why did you stop before the last act?"
The Old Troupe Leader swallowed his saliva upon hearing the question: "We don't know either. They just said we offended Heaven's Might and told us to pack up and leave quickly."
"Offended Heaven's Might?"
"Perhaps they felt that the opera we performed was inappropriate."
Ji You turned his head and glanced at the large mansion on the peak of Moon-Gazing Mountain, noticing that at some point, Cultivators were already guarding the mountain path.
However, judging by their attire, those guarding outside were not Lang Family Disciples, but rather Mountain and Sea Pavilion Disciples.
Seeing Ji You lost in thought, the Troupe Leader cupped his hands and spoke: "May I ask, Young Master, if you have any other matters? If not, we still have to hurry on our way."
Ji You came back to his senses and cupped his hands: "May I ask where you are all going?"
"We're returning home. This opera performance has been extremely tiring, and we need to rest. Performing one less show is a good thing."
Upon hearing this, Ji You took out a piece of silver: "I have some questions I'd like to ask. May I travel with you all?"
The Troupe Leader did not readily accept, but instead looked at him with some vigilance: "May I ask what the Young Master wishes to inquire about?"
"Nothing special, it's just that I didn't finish listening to the opera you performed, and I'm very curious about the rest of the story. Otherwise, it will always bother me."
"This—"
Seeing his hesitation, Ji You took out another piece of silver: "It's idle anyway, and besides, I see your carriage isn't too crowded."
The Old Troupe Leader thought for a long time, then reached out and took one of the smaller pieces: "These are enough."
"Thank you, Troupe Leader, for your kindness."
"Young Master, please get in the carriage. There's much trouble in front of Immortal homes; it's better for us to leave early."
Ji You nodded, then got into the carriage.
Then the coachman cracked his whip in front, and the carriage began to move slowly. Everyone in this opera troupe, being Mortals, eating Immortal food, and traveling extensively, had always been very cautious and would not speak freely about everything they were asked.
This was not because they had secrets to keep, but because they feared that if their words were inappropriate and spread, they would be seen as offending Immortals and face a calamity.
Ji You did not immediately state his purpose but instead chatted casually with the Troupe Leader.
Everyone in their opera troupe came from a county called Pingxi in southeastern Yunzhou. They had traveled extensively for many years, and because their signature repertoire was quite popular with Immortals, they lived reasonably well.
It was also for this reason that their lineage, unlike shadow puppetry, had not suffered a broken Legacy mid-way, where even the master's identity was unclear.
On the contrary, the Legacy of their lineage was very clear, which made Ji You feel fortunate.
And regarding the opera performed over those eight days, it indeed did not exceed Ji You's expectations.
According to the Old Troupe Leader, this opera was indeed an old play that their troupe performed for Immortal audiences and had been performed for decades.
Whenever an Immortal passed away and the Sect wanted the common people to mourn with them, those Immortals would specifically request this play, and they would also ask them to change the protagonist's name in the story to the name of their own Old Ancestor, to build the Family's glory.
What do the common people understand?
They don't even know what Cultivation is.
Some people, after listening, would indeed believe it, thinking that although the Immortal lords collected money and grain every year, they truly protected them.
In other words, the original version of this opera was very likely about the Night Watchman.
Ji You smoothly transitioned to the main topic: "What about the last act? What was the last act about?"
Upon hearing this, the Troupe Leader opened the box behind him and took out a scroll: "This is the content of the last act. Please take a look, Young Master." "This script is quite new."
"Yes."
Ji You reached out and opened the cover, his gaze immediately falling upon the book.
At this time, the carriage had already left the Moon-Gazing Mountain area, swaying along a dilapidated official road covered in dense jungle.
Sunlight pierced through the tree canopy, casting mottled patterns on the ground, which were scattered by the carriage passing by.
In the last carriage, two carriages away from the Troupe Leader and Ji You, sat the Huadan, Qingyi, Laosheng, and Wusheng, side by side.
Ever since leaving Moon-Gazing Mountain, the little Huadan had been restless. When Moon-Gazing Mountain was finally out of sight, she could no longer hold back and spoke.
"That Old Ancestor of the Lang Family, he probably came back to life as a zombie—"
The Laosheng's heart trembled upon hearing this: "Nonsense! Only Mortals come back as zombies. How could an Immortal come back as a zombie?"
The little Huadan spoke with pale lips: "If he didn't come back as a zombie, then why did they question us about whether we performed any plays about rising from the dead and returning to life?
And those Immortals suddenly left."
The Wusheng, who had been silent since getting into the carriage, finally couldn't help but speak when he heard the two discussing this matter: "Last night, I saw a shadow sitting up in the mourning hall..."
The Lang Family's opera was divided into an inner and an outer performance.
The outer performance, which praised their virtues, was for the common people, while the inner performance was for the Immortals.
Yesterday, there was a martial arts performance, and this Wusheng was taken up the mountain. He had been restless ever since returning, and only now did he blurt out the matter.
The little Huadan's face grew even paler: "Is that true?"
"It was just a blurry glance; I didn't see clearly. Maybe it was just a filial descendant attending—"
"Alright, don't forget the troupe's motto: 'Ears do not enter the door, eyes are covered by curtains, guard your tongue, and let your heart be calm.'"
The Laosheng, being extremely timid, couldn't help but stop their discussion.
The little Huadan and the Wusheng also knew that such matters were no small thing and finally closed their mouths, falling silent in the bumpy carriage.
Meanwhile, Ji You had finished reading the script for the last act, his expression somewhat speechless.
He had thought that the last act would contain a great deal of information, as new character relationships had appeared in it.
In his opinion, even if he couldn't find the Night Watchman himself, simply sorting out his surrounding relationships would still be a gain.
But he had been hasty, or rather, he had overlooked the purpose of this opera.
The script for this last act was not about the Night Watchman at all, but had been changed to be about Lang Kun.
In the story, after Lang Kun saved the world, he went to the Mountain and Sea Pavilion, diligently Cultivated the Dao, and finally died peacefully of old age, mourned and sent off by countless people, ascending to Immortal Ascension amidst a brilliant light.
When entering the Immortal Realm, the virtuous Lang Kun even recited a poem to the Mortal world.
A thousand years of Cultivation, achieved in one morning, looking back at the mountains and rivers, tears secretly flow.
Before stepping onto the Heaven Rank, the heart is already weary, unable to bear the sounds of human sorrow.
Ji You didn't know what law he had broken to have to read such a thing. He reached out and handed the script to the Troupe Leader: "Was this act newly written to follow the old play?"
The Troupe Leader nodded: "The first eight acts are fixed, but the last act is written based on the life story provided by the host Family."
"No wonder there are more characters in splendid robes. So they're Lang Family Disciples. What a sin!" "Is Young Master very reverent of this Lang Family Old Ancestor?"
Ji You looked up at the Troupe Leader: "No, I am only very reverent of the original person in the story."
Upon hearing this, the Troupe Leader couldn't help but be stunned.
Seeing his reaction, Ji You continued: "Troupe Leader, could you tell me the unedited story?"
"Unedited?"
"Meaning, not adapted."
The Troupe Leader shook his head upon hearing this: "Actually, let alone the original story, I've never even heard of the original ninth act. Our lineage has a rule: the last act is only passed down by the older generation just before they die."
Ji You pondered for a while after hearing this: "What about that night? In the opera you performed, what did the night filled with demons represent?"
"That—hasn't been passed down yet either."
"It's also known only by the older generation of your lineage, right?"
The Troupe Leader did not answer directly, but instead suddenly said: "Young Master, do you really believe this story?"
Ji You was slightly taken aback: "Does even the Troupe Leader himself not believe it?"
"There's no such Immortal. If there really were such an Immortal, how could this world have become what it is today? But it's not just the Young Master who believes, our Grand Master has always believed it—"
"Grand Master?"
The Troupe Leader nodded: "My Grand Master is the oldest generation in our lineage, but he is too old now and no longer comes out to make a living."
Ji You asked curiously after hearing this: "May I ask how old your Grand Master is this year?"
"Over seventy."
"Such a lifespan is indeed rare."
Ji You felt that he had found the right person. After a moment of silence, he spoke again: "Troupe Leader, could you take me to see your Grand Master?"
Initially, the Troupe Leader of the opera troupe did not believe that Ji You was interested in the opera they performed, thinking he had other motives. However, after this casual chat along the way, he realized that this person truly only asked questions related to the opera.
Operas are meant to be performed for others; there's nothing to hide.
Moreover, from his words and demeanor, he felt that Ji You was not a bad person. So the Troupe Leader was silent for a while, then nodded in hesitation.
