In the dead of night, amidst the woods, could someone be setting up a stage for a performance?

But this late at night, who could the audience possibly be?

A sense of the absurd and grotesque crept into everyone’s hearts.

Lu Guiyan’s brow was tightly furrowed. The bizarre scene inevitably brought to mind tales of the supernatural, but as a woman of the Jianghu, she had never believed in ghosts or gods.

’Someone must be playing the ghost...’ She considered taking a detour, but it felt pointless.

After all, if this was truly aimed at them, their pursuers would find them one way or another. Better to just forge ahead.

As the sound grew clearer, Lu Guiyan and the others could distinguish the sounds of several different instruments.

There were cymbals, gongs, drums, a wooden fish, and even bamboo clappers...

But with so many different sounds, there should have been a large group of people.

Yet as far as they could see, there were no bustling figures—only a patch of firelight glowing through something white and rectangular, with something moving upon its surface.

"...Doesn’t this look just like a shadow puppet show?"

Mo Beidou scratched his head as he voiced his thought.

Hearing this, the others exchanged glances, all feeling he had a point.

Fear is often born from the unknown, and Mo Beidou’s words dispelled the gloom clouding their hearts. After all, what was so scary about a shadow puppet show?

The group immediately quickened their pace. Sure enough, upon a white screen, two small figures were locked in ceaseless battle, the cymbals and gongs clashing from behind it.

So there really was someone who, instead of sleeping, was hiding in the mountain forest in the middle of the night, having lit a bonfire to perform a shadow puppet show?

Lu Guiyan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but she didn’t dare let down her guard.

The woods were deep and the night was desolate. Even if this wasn’t the work of some malevolent spirit, anyone who dared perform a shadow puppet show here was by no means an ordinary person.

And their arrival had alerted the person behind the screen.

One of the two small figures suddenly exited the stage. The other leaped into the air, tumbled several times across the screen, and landed. With a flick of its long spear, a voice rang out:

"Halt!

"Who... goes there!?"

Lu Guiyan cupped her fist in a salute.

"We are merely passersby. We apologize for the disturbance, Senior, and hope you will not take offense."

"Hmmmm?"

The small figure on the screen spun around twice, its voice filled with doubt, before it suddenly looked up.

"Under the cover of night, you travel in such a frantic hurry. Could it be that you are villains on the run?

"Tell me, passersby, from whence do you come, and whither do you go?"

Not wanting to get entangled, Lu Guiyan smiled and said:

"We had no intention of disturbing you. We will take our leave now."

With that, she turned to lead her people away.

But the small figure on the screen moved again, its spear tip rising.

"Hehehe, since you’re here, you can just... OUCH!"

As the voice cried out, the small figure on the screen vanished. Then, Fang Shuwen’s voice came from behind the screen:

"How do you work this thing?"

"You... you... you..."

A rather old voice, laced with terror, came from behind the screen:

"When did you get over here?"

"I just came over while you were talking."

Fang Shuwen fiddled with the shadow puppet he’d snatched from the man, shooting him a glance.

It was an old man who looked to be in his sixties or seventies. His hair and beard were white, and he had a lean, distinguished frame.

He was sitting in a very peculiar chair.

Numerous instruments were strapped to it, with pedals at his feet. With a press, a switch, and a stomp, the sounds of different instruments emerged.

This was how, despite being only one person, he could produce the sounds of so many instruments.

Fang Shuwen had seen shadow puppet shows before. He knew that in the puppeteering trade, this skill had a name: ’Shi Bu Xian,’ the mark of a top-tier performer.

The difficulty lay in a single person achieving the effect of a full ensemble, coordinating various instruments perfectly while also manipulating the puppets. Such multitasking was no easy feat.

Fang Shuwen toyed with the puppet in his hand, then asked:

"What were you saying just now? ’Since we’re here, you can just...’ what?"

The old man stared at Fang Shuwen as if he’d seen a ghost. After a long, conflicted moment, he finally ventured, tentatively:

"...Stay and watch a performance before you go?"

"I suppose I could."

Fang Shuwen poked his head out from behind the screen.

"Miss Lu... why don’t we watch a show? We’ve been walking half the night, and everyone is tired. How about a short rest?

"It’s a rare chance to see a shadow puppet show, and it’s even free."

The old man sucked his teeth. ’Who said it was free?’ he thought.

But then he remembered how Fang Shuwen had appeared silently by his side and snatched the puppet—a move he hadn’t even been able to dodge—and decided that fine, no money it is!

’A real man stands tall between heaven and earth. How could I haggle over the mere stink of copper?’

Lu Guiyan was taken aback. She couldn’t understand why Fang Shuwen wanted to stop here.

Still, since he was the one suggesting it, he must have a reason.

After a moment of contemplation, she cupped her fist and smiled.

"Then we thank you, old sir."

With that, she waved a hand.

"Everyone, rest for a while. We’re watching a... shadow puppet show."

The old man forced a bitter smile, feeling he’d run into the worst luck tonight.

’Having to perform a show for free, just like that.’

But what was done was done. No point arguing. He would just have to perform.

The Escort Masters and Porters of the Escort Agency weren’t particularly interested in the puppet show. The two people they were protecting, however, were like curious children, quickly finding an empty spot to sit and staring eagerly at the white screen, waiting for the show to begin.

Seeing everyone scattered about, Fang Shuwen called out with a smile:

"Everyone, gather ’round! Come closer! What can you possibly hear from so far away?"

The Escort Masters and Porters looked confused, not quite understanding his intention, but they gathered closer anyway.

They didn’t know Fang Shuwen well, but he was Darts Leader Mo’s junior martial brother. Out of respect for their leader, if not for him, they felt they had to listen.

Fang Shuwen found a spot near the front and sat down. A shadow flickered beside him, and he turned to see Lu Guiyan.

She sat down beside Fang Shuwen and asked in a low voice:

"Did you discover something?"

’Those with profound Inner Strength often have exceptionally sharp senses. Just because I can’t perceive anything doesn’t mean Fang Shuwen can’t.’

Fang Shuwen glanced at her in surprise, then smiled and nodded.

"You’ll know soon enough."

His words did not put Lu Guiyan’s heart at ease; on the contrary, it began to pound.

’This means our Golden Cicada Shell gambit has likely failed. The Fierce Tiger Gang is probably waiting for us up ahead.’

At this thought, she sighed and instinctively glanced at Sun Qian among the crowd.

The next moment, cymbals and gongs clashed. The show had begun.

The old man announced the title of the play: "Rebel Disciple Fang Huai."

It opened with the story of a scholar, bullied and destitute, who happened upon an old man that taught him Martial Arts. The scholar abandoned his literary pursuits for martial ones, and his natural talent allowed his Cultivation to deepen by the day.

But the scholar’s heart was wicked. After his master passed on his Martial Arts, he felt no gratitude. Instead, he plotted to kill his master and steal his secret manuals.

The story itself wasn’t particularly captivating, but the old man’s rhythmic narration and the accompaniment of various instruments easily drew the audience into the tale.

The play reached its climax: Fang Huai had poisoned his master, his true intentions were laid bare, and the wounded master was now battling him on the banks of a great river.

Just then, a series of whistling sounds cut through the air.

In the blink of an eye, figure after figure dressed in black appeared in the firelight.

Their ranks parted, and a leader stepped forth.

He too was dressed in black, but on his chest and cuffs was the stark embroidery of a slant-eyed, ferocious tiger!

His expression, however, was ugly. He glared first at the members of the Lu’an Escort Agency, then at the white screen of the puppet show, his eyes practically spitting fire.

But just as he was about to speak, a soft cough sounded.

He instinctively turned to see a plainly dressed young man, who smiled and held a single finger to his lips.

"Shhh. Don’t be hasty. Let’s finish watching the show before we talk."