Above the Great Dao
Chapter 217 - 117 There is a Jujube Tree in the Village, Evil Spirit Arc (Requesting monthly ticket on the 1st!)_2

Chapter 217: Chapter 117 There is a Jujube Tree in the Village, Evil Spirit Arc (Requesting monthly ticket on the 1st!)_2

Chen Shi gazed into the distance, only to see the town enveloped in a green mist, as if formed by the Qi of Incense Fire.

They entered Sanhe Village, and Black Pot once again took out the Compass, controlling the wooden cart, which emitted creaking and screeching sounds, strikingly harsh in this silent village.

"The cart’s wheel hub needs oiling," Chen Shi broke the silence.

He was startled by his own voice; in this silent village, it seemed particularly loud, spacious, and echoed.

Dingding was nervous, took down a cyan-blue pipa bag from his back, held it in his embrace, and looked anxiously around, fearing something might jump out and scare him.

Chen Shi looked to both sides, and saw that the doors of each household were wide open, some had a small incense burner placed at the doorstep, palm-sized, with a few incense sticks inserted, the fragrance curling upwards, merging into the green mist in the air. Those without incense burners had a handful of soil at the threshold, with several incense sticks in it.

Behind the thresholds, there were often old grandmothers, kneeling on the ground, hands folded in prayer, very devout.

There were also women, or women with one or two children beside them, kneeling upright, also with hands folded.

Behind some thresholds were men or old people, thumping their heads on the ground, one after another.

Strangely, regardless of age or gender, they all wore hats.

The hats were black, very tall, taller than their heads.

They didn’t speak; their faces and clothes, seen through the green mist, seemed colorless, turning black and white.

"Could these hats be to protect against the midwife plucking off their heads?" Dingding whispered quietly.

"Creak. Creak."

The cartwheels continued to make strange noises, and Chen Shi, disturbed by this, stopped the cart, crouched down to check, only to see something flash under the cart, too fast to see clearly.

The smog here was heavy, like the night, and visibility was poor.

The wooden cart moved forward again, the creaking noise ceased and was replaced by screeching sounds.

Chen Shi looked down again, saw something small in the green Incense Fire Qi approaching the wooden cart, but when it saw him looking, it ran away like flight.

"Black Pot, keep an eye on our surroundings. This smoke seems a bit off."

Chen Shi instructed and took over the Compass from Black Pot’s claws to control the wooden cart himself.

Black Pot quickly reverted to walking on all fours, looking around vigilantly.

As they continued to advance deeper into the center of Sanhe Village, a giant shadow gradually emerged within the green smoke, towering, its branches sprawling like dragons and pythons, extending in all directions—a large tree.

Ahead of the large tree, glimpses of light pierced through the fog, catching their eyes, but the smoky air was too dense, allowing only the blurred light to flicker.

The sounds of trumpets and suonas came, drip-drop, droning, a blend of singing and instruments, with songs following, in the cadence of traditional Chinese opera.

Approaching closer, the large tree became clearer, though still slightly blurred, and cheers of applause like thunder could be heard.

Further, voices shouted, "The performance is not good, down you go, down you go!"

Gradually, more people began to jeer, shouting, "Get down, get down!"

As Chen Shi, Dingding, and the others got closer, they saw that under the large tree, many people of varying heights craned their necks to look at the stage ahead.

In front of the large jujube tree, directly facing them, was an opera tower. Below the tower was where the Sheng (male lead), Mo (middle-aged character), Jing (painted face), and Dan (female lead) changed clothes, preparing to go on stage, with candles lit and doors and windows covered with cloth, allowing only sparse glimpses of light to pass, occasionally obscured by figures behind, likely the performers blocking the light.

And above, on the stage, performers were fully decorated, some with flags on their back, some dressed extravagantly, with clowns hopping around, drums, gongs, flutes, pipas, erhus, and gaohus echoing from underneath the curtains—the orchestra of the opera troupe.

The one being called off stage was a young male lead, wearing a black top scorer’s hat, adorned with a big red flower, bewildered and panic-stricken by the jeering, seemingly about to cry on stage.

Below, even more people were yelling for the young performer to get down.

Chen Shi noticed that the audience below was a bit strange.

The front row’s audience was of normal height.

The first row was about the height of children, each subsequent row half a head taller than the previous, with the third row half a head taller than the second, and the fourth row half a head taller than the third!

As the rows of onlookers moved back, their bodies surprisingly grew taller, reaching up to more than a zhang (approximately 3.3 meters) in height!

They were tall and thin, as if only growing taller without widening, with thin arms, legs, bodies, and even slender necks, all topped with large heads.

Dingding tightened his grip on the pipa in his arms, shrinking his neck, and exclaimed in surprise, "So many people! Does everyone in the village love watching opera this much?"

She had just said this when suddenly the rowdy crowd fell silent, as if frozen in place.

Dingding was startled but saw that the spectators, both in the front and back rows, were slowly turning their heads towards her.

As they turned their heads, their bodies began to dissipate.

Those bodies, curiously composed of Incense Fire Qi, were alright until their necks moved; when they did, the Qi scattered, leaving only heads suspended in midair turning backwards.

Pairs of eyes landed on Dingding.

Above, the leaves rustled loudly.

At that moment, Chen Shi observed more closely and saw that these heads all wore black, tall hats, connected at the back by long stems.

The heads resembled large jujubes hanging neatly beneath the tree.

They looked at Dingding without uttering a word.

The Green-robed Scholar’s face was a picture of terror, and he quietly gestured to Dingding to keep silent, indicating that noises were forbidden during the play.

The stage also gradually quieted down; the actors of various roles stopped, standing there somewhat unsure of what to do.

Chen Shi addressed the jujube heads with a bow, "We are part of the troupe. We apologize for speaking out of turn and disturbing everyone. Continue the performance on stage, allow us to get ready!"

The troupe on stage hurriedly resumed their music and dance.

"Listen to Xue Liang narrate, pride melts away at once as snow!"

"Cold warmth of human feelings, not made by heaven; who can change it by a hair’s breadth."

"I lacking, she needy, she in cold and hunger, I in pamper..."

...

Underneath the stage, countless jujube heads slowly turned back to watch the play.

Their necks, gathered again with green smoke, gradually formed shapes of bodies, tall and short.

Dingding breathed a sigh of relief, and the Green-robed Scholar quickly led them away from the stage.

"Pop!"

Suddenly, a vine wrapped around the neck of a young male actor on stage, yanking his head off and sending it flying into the air, landing among the spectators, where it continuously cheered for the stage performance.

Should the other heads jeer, it joined them in heckling.

As for his headless body, it wobbled and fell.

Chen Shi maneuvered the wooden cart to the front of the theater; the door opened and several frightened girls gazed out. They quickly pulled the group inside and hurriedly shut the door.

One of the girls lamented, "Why did you barge in here? If the plays aren’t performed well, heads roll here. Several of our fellow actors died, and our leader’s head got snapped off... Which troupe are you from? Why just three of you? And a dog, does the dog perform too?"

Chen Shi ignored them, parked the wooden cart, and with a swish, swept all the makeup and powders off the dressing table, whispering, "Black Pot!"

Black Pot stepped forward; Chen Shi stabbed it with a laugh, collecting Black Dog Blood.

Chen Shi ground cinnabar and rapidly wrote talismans on the dressing table.

The girls, watching him, widened their eyes in shock.

At that moment, a man came down the stairs, his voice lowered, "It’s time to go on stage! Are you all ready?"

The girls hurriedly put on their coronets and were about to head upwards when the manager glanced and said, "We’re missing a pipa... You, you! Come up!"

Dingding jumped, "Me?"

"Yes, you! Hurry up!"

Dingding, nervous, opened her blue fabric bag, took out the pipa, and followed the girl onto the stage.

"Hurry up with your drawing!" she called back to Chen Shi.

—On the first day of August, we’re racing for the monthly ticket! Brothers, support us!!!

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