Chapter 7: The Opera Ghost (Part 2)
“Holy—!”
It was impossible to tell who gasped first, but the single exclamation was enough to ignite the dead silence. A wave of fervent discussion erupted from all sides.
“He actually did it!”
“That’s incredible!”
The clearing was mostly bare dirt, so after the fire consumed the paper model, it simply extinguished itself, saving Jiang Si the trouble of putting it out.
The stage was a brilliant gold, but its structure was as real as any other. It had two levels, with staircases on either side leading to the traditional “General’s Entrance” and “Minister’s Exit.” An ornate, flying-eaved roof crowned the structure, making it look every bit the part.
Xiao Fengxian was the first to fly inside, her eyes darting up and down. Though she said nothing, both Jiang Si and Haidi could see the satisfaction written all over her face.
“That’s all it took?” Even with his amnesia, Haidi retained his common sense as a human. He was stunned that Jiang Si had built the entire thing so quickly.
“Like I said, I’m a pro.” Jiang Si let out a slow breath and addressed the ghost on the stage. “I’ve held up my end of the bargain. We’ll be on our way now and won’t disturb your performance.”
With that, he stuffed the remaining yellow paper into his backpack and was about to lead Haidi away.
“Wait!”
Xiao Fengxian stood beneath the stage’s ornate roof. The acoustics of the sound-reflecting walls and ceiling amplified her voice, making it carry far into the night. As she spoke, an invisible pressure radiated from her, instantly quelling the boisterous atmosphere. The weaker ghosts, unable to bear it, crumpled to their knees. Even the older spirits bowed their heads in silence.
“Did I say you could leave?”
With a light tap of her toe, Xiao Fengxian’s red opera robes fluttered, and in a blink, she landed before Jiang Si and Haidi. The light from Jiang Si’s phone was still on, illuminating her bewitching face—lips like crimson, brows like distant mountains, and eyes that burned into his.
“Is there something else?” The smile on Jiang Si’s face vanished completely. It was clear things weren’t going to be that simple.
“Sir, you possess a great talent. Why not come work for me?” Xiao Fengxian offered a faint smile. “Being a human can’t possibly be as free and easy as being a ghost.”
“Isn’t that right, everyone?”
Naturally, the assembled ghosts all murmured in agreement. They instinctively closed in, forming a circle around the two, their countless cold stares fixing on them as if they were already dead.
“Once you’re in our territory, you don’t just get to walk away.” The one who spoke wasn’t Xiao Fengxian, but the very same female ghost who had led Jiang Si here.
Seeing her smug expression, Jiang Si finally understood her true intentions.
They were after his paper-crafting skills. They wanted to force him to stay and work for them.
In other words, they wanted to use him as a living, breathing money printer.
The bright moonlight cascaded down, glinting off the kingfisher feather pins in Xiao Fengxian’s hair. She reached out with fingers tipped in red, intending to grab Jiang Si’s arm, but he dodged aside.
“Of course a ghost’s words are nothing but lies. You can’t trust a single one,” Haidi said, glancing worriedly at Jiang Si.
“She’s a powerful ghost, hundreds of years old. I don’t think we can win in a direct fight.”
While keeping his eyes locked on Xiao Fengxian’s, which were growing redder by the second, Jiang Si calmly reassured him, “Don’t panic.”
Haidi didn’t believe him for a second—how could a man who couldn’t even hurt a fly possibly stand up to a powerful ghost?
A cold hand landed on Jiang Si’s arm. Haidi spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. “In a moment, I’ll hold her off. You run. She’s a ghost; she can’t easily harm a human directly. Besides, this whole mess started because of me anyway.”
Even in such a dire situation, the first thing Jiang Si noticed was that Haidi, standing on solid ground, was a good half-head taller than him.
He briefly wondered what the man ate to get so tall before the warmth of his words sank in.
At least he knows how to repay a kindness, Jiang Si thought. I didn’t save him for nothing.
A short distance away, Xiao Fengxian had already flown into the air, revealing her true form. Her face was deathly pale, her eyes dripped with blood, and her long, dark hair shot toward them like a nest of sentient snakes.
Jiang Si shoved Haidi aside and pulled a long, white, rod-like object from his backpack.
He grabbed a handful of the incoming hair with one hand and, with the weapon in the other, lashed out.
The whip cracked, and a shrill scream tore through the air.
Xiao Fengxian fell to the ground in a heap, her hair returning to normal. The venom in her eyes was unconcealed as she screeched, her voice hollow and piercing, “What is that thing you’re holding?”
In the moonlight, the object in Jiang Si’s hand became clear. It was a staff the length of his forearm, wrapped in strips of white paper that swayed gently in the breeze.
“A mourning staff, of course,” Jiang Si said with a smile. “I heard that a staff made from Tung wood is especially effective against malevolent spirits. I thought I’d test that theory today, and it seems to be true.”
The female ghost who had led him there swayed on her feet.
Damn him to hell, she thought. He had been calling her ‘sister’ so sweetly, but he’d been hiding a weapon of this magnitude the whole time. And thinking back to his talk of a ‘ransom’… she wanted to spit.
Pah! You really can’t trust a word a man says.
Xiao Fengxian was equally stunned. She had lorded over this territory for many years, her power unquestioned by any ghost for miles around. And today, she had been taken down by a single human.
Her arrogant demeanor deflated considerably. “It seems,” she said, her tone softening, “that this has all been a misunderstanding.”
“How about this: I’ll let you leave, and we can call this misunderstanding even. What do you say?”
“Of course,” Jiang Si replied instantly. Haidi moved closer, about to warn him, but then he saw the mischievous glint in Jiang Si’s eyes.
Understanding dawned, and he said no more.
Xiao Fengxian gave Jiang Si a deep, sincere bow. “I was rash just now. Please don’t hold it against me, sir.”
They began to walk out of the clearing. Just as they were about to step out of the woods, another chilling gust of wind tore through the air, carrying an attack far more vicious than the first, aimed straight for Jiang Si’s heart.
Jiang Si was ready. He flipped the mourning staff in his hand to block it. On impact, the white paper strips flew out wildly, making a sharp rustling sound.
Ignoring the searing pain, the black hair wrapped itself tightly around the tip of the staff, determined to wrench it from his grasp.
Jiang Si held on tight. As they struggled, the sturdy mourning staff suddenly snapped in two.
The white paper strips fluttered to the ground. To Xiao Fengxian, it looked as if funeral money was already being scattered for Jiang Si’s demise.
She was about to let out a triumphant laugh when she saw Jiang Si, completely unruffled, pull another mourning staff from his backpack. The smile froze on her lips.
A deathly silence fell over the surrounding ghosts.
The smile hadn’t vanished; it had just moved to Jiang Si’s face. He grinned, his dimples faintly visible.
“Is there anything else?” he asked gently.
“No! Nothing!”
Xiao Fengxian ground her teeth, unable to fathom how Jiang Si’s backpack could possibly hold so many things.
“Oh, so you’re done. But I’m not,” Jiang Si said, pointing his new mourning staff directly at Xiao Fengxian.
“There are two kinds of people I hate most in this world. The first are people who deceive me. The second are people who deceive me a second time. You just managed to be both.”
Haidi fought to suppress a laugh as he watched Jiang Si advance on Xiao Fengxian, staff in hand.
After a few moments, Xiao Fengxian could no longer take it and let out a truly heartfelt cry of injustice.
“What have I done wrong? I’ve only made the same mistake any ghost in the world would make!”
“…”
Jiang Si stopped in his tracks. He pointed at Haidi. “He’s a ghost too. How come he doesn’t lie?”
Xiao Fengxian wiped away a tear, choked with indignation. “He’s a living soul at best! How can you call him a ghost?”
Jiang Si paused, realizing he had forgotten that detail. He cleared his throat. “Do you know how to send a soul back to its body?”
Xiao Fengxian looked even more aggrieved. “I only know how to take souls. I don’t know anything about sending them back.”
Fair enough.
Jiang Si lowered his aching arm. “Remember this,” he warned her. “This is a modern society. All people are equal, and all ghosts should be equal too. Don’t use your power to bully your own kind, and more importantly, do not harm humans!”
Xiao Fengxian dabbed at her face with the corner of her sleeve, her voice dripping with sorrow. “You don’t understand, sir. I was once a girl from a good family. If it weren’t for the wars, I never would have been forced to join an opera troupe to survive. Later, I was murdered by bandits and died far from home. My resentment was too strong, and I couldn’t pass on to the underworld. That is the only reason I am what I am today.”
“I have my own sorrows!” she wailed.
“That’s no excuse to harm innocent people,” Jiang Si said flatly.
“…I just love singing so much. Everything I’ve done has been for the sake of this performance!”
Xiao Fengxian declared this with righteous conviction, as if remembering a phrase modern people often used. “This is what they call… dedicating your life to art!”
Her gaze was so firm that even with her makeup smeared, you could see the unwavering belief in her eyes.
“…”
Jiang Si grew thoughtful, looking at her without a word.
Seeing them both standing frozen, Haidi walked over.
“What’s wrong?”
Jiang Si made a soft sound of consideration. “Would you be interested in acting?” he asked.
The question stunned both ghosts into silence.
Haidi had a faint idea of what he was planning, but Xiao Fengxian was just confused.
“Acting? What acting? You know how to make films? Like, with a camera, the kind they show on television?”
Jiang Si thought for a moment. “Something like that,” he said vaguely. “It’s for people to watch.”
Xiao Fengxian was intrigued but hesitant, unsure if he was just toying with her.
Jiang Si took out his phone and pulled up his portfolio—a five-minute animated short he had made.
Xiao Fengxian’s suspicious expression slowly morphed into one of fervent excitement, though she was still a little doubtful. “But didn’t you draw this? What does that have to do with me?”
“This time, I’ll be using live-action shots. If you agree, you’ll be my exclusive actress. You’ll have countless fans. You’ve seen modern celebrities, haven’t you? They’re mobbed by adoring fans wherever they go. You’ll be just like them.”
Jiang Si’s voice was low and deliberately hypnotic.
If any modern person, battle-hardened by hustle culture, had heard this, they would have immediately recognized it as an empty promise and run for the hills. But Xiao Fengxian was a century-old ghost, completely unversed in the ways of the modern world.
Star in her own production? And have countless fans?
The idea, which had already taken root in her mind, was now impossible to resist. She was on the verge of shouting yes.
“Since you’ve invited me so graciously, I suppose I can agree,” she said, nodding with forced composure. She glanced at the other ghosts who were watching the drama unfold and, remembering her earlier humiliation, grew annoyed. “What are you all crowding around for? Scram! Let’s just say we’ve gotten to know each other through this fight. From now on, we’re friends.”
She directed the last sentence at Jiang Si.
Jiang Si gave a noncommittal nod. Just as Xiao Fengxian was about to ask him more about the filming, she saw him take out a sheet of paper. “What are you doing now?” she asked curiously.
“Signing a contract.”
“…”
Haidi couldn’t help but glance at Jiang Si, who explained with a perfectly straight face, “To put it in black and white. A binding agreement, just in case you decide to make the same mistake all ghosts make… again.”
Jiang Si’s backpack was like a treasure chest. He produced a pen and began to write several lines with flourishing strokes. The previously calm Xiao Fengxian turned pale. “Is that really necessary?” she asked with a strained laugh. “Surely you don’t think I’d try to deceive you a third time?”
“What happens if the contract is violated?” Haidi asked, sensing this was no ordinary document.
“A person dies and becomes a ghost. Do you know what happens when a ghost dies?” Jiang Si asked.
Before Haidi could answer, Jiang Si continued, “When a ghost dies, it becomes a jiàn. If this contract is broken, the laws of heaven and earth will erase you. In other words, you die a second time.”
Could he be trying to trick me into becoming his ghost puppet? Xiao Fengxian had seen plenty of crooked people deceive spirits to serve their own selfish desires. Once a life-and-death contract like this was signed, there was no escaping it until reincarnation.
As her mind raced, her eyes began to dart around, looking for an opportunity to flee.
Jiang Si handed her the paper. But all it said was that Xiao Fengxian was forbidden from harming people ever again.
Xiao Fengxian, who could read a little, was stunned. She hadn’t expected the terms to be so simple. Steeling herself, she signed.
She couldn’t kill people wantonly anyway. Rather than spending her days hiding from underworld emissaries and living a meager existence, she might as well take a gamble. If she followed him, she could at least satisfy her passion for acting.
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