Chapter 253: Shadow Puppets and Lamplight (19)
Lu Xingxing felt like he was on the verge of an existential crisis.
He swore—truly swore—that when he returned to Haiyun Temple, he had diligently studied under his master, Taoist Song Yi. This time, he had been absolutely serious—no slacking off at all!
Not only that, he had been forcibly made to memorize stacks of ancient texts and manuals, some of them dozens of centimeters thick. He had memorized so much he nearly vomited, and on top of that, he was constantly berated by his master. Those days were a living nightmare.
When it was finally time to film this episode of the show, several other master uncles had even quizzed him. He was only allowed to leave after passing their tests.
As he walked out of Haiyun Temple’s gate, Lu Xingxing was overwhelmed with emotion, tears streaming down his face. He had never understood the suffering of students cramming for exams until now. It felt like he’d finally been liberated and could now run free.
Precisely because of that experience, he remembered what he learned during that period vividly.
To avoid returning to that hellish cycle of memorization, Lu Xingxing could swear on his life: even if he forgot his own name, he would never forget how to draw talismans!
But that inflated self-confidence had now been smashed to pieces by a courtyard full of shadow puppets and corpses.
Why weren’t the talismans working?!
This was impossible!
Lu Xingxing’s ten fingers were twisted like noodles as he tried to draw the correct signs, but there was no effect whatsoever. Worse yet, he looked like some fool from the village, idiotically fiddling with his hands.
“I swear! Believe me—I really know how to do this one!”
Tears welled in Lu Xingxing’s eyes as he looked at Song Ci.
Song Ci: “…………”
Without hesitation, Song Ci turned to Nan Tian and said, “We’re counting on you now. Use whatever you can remember. Anyway, with this dumb mutt here, the situation can’t possibly get any worse.”
“Hey! Young Master! Listen to me—ahhh, I got a cramp in my fingers! It hurts, QAQ!”
Lu Xingxing clutched his fingers, face twisted in pain, tears instantly spilling out.
Song Ci ripped an old, worn-out door panel from the wall beside them, swung it in a wide arc, and *smack!*—struck a charging corpse directly in the head, sending it flying several meters away.
With the immediate threat taken care of, Song Ci turned back to look at Lu Xingxing, completely exasperated. This guy was so drained he could barely stand—Song Ci didn’t even have the energy to be mad at him anymore.
“…Lu Xingxing, can you stay cool for more than three seconds?”
Lu Xingxing blinked, honestly thinking he had been pretty cool all along.
After all, he had made it onto last year’s Top Ten Hottest Musicians list!
Song Ci snorted coldly, clearly unimpressed. “If you can manage that, I’ll give you the Song Company.”
Lu Xingxing: Why does that sting a little? Am I imagining things?
Still, despite what he said, Song Ci sighed and resignedly began prying apart Lu Xingxing’s crumpled fingers.
“I’m serious. This really isn’t my fault. There’s definitely something weird going on in this museum. None of the talismans or spells are working here.”
Lu Xingxing looked deeply worried. “I think this place is more dangerous than anything we’ve faced before—far more terrifying than it appears.”
Song Ci rolled his eyes dramatically, clearly not buying it. “You’ve got zero credibility left, Dumb Xingxing. If Brother Yan said that, I’d believe it. You? Nah.”
He glanced Lu Xingxing up and down and let out a disdainful “Heh.”
Lu Xingxing: “???”
Are you mocking me? Am I imagining that too?
Nan Tian gave Lu Xingxing a sympathetic look but didn’t dare speak up while Song Ci was visibly irritated.
Besides, it was only a hunch on his part.
—But he felt the same way as Lu Xingxing.
After all, Nan Tian had been confirmed to be the last descendant of the Nan Village bloodline, a direct descendant of Grandma Nan. With the responsibility of preserving the traditions of Nanming Mountain, he had taken it upon himself to pass on the cultural heritage.
Because of this, the two sisters from the village had dumped everything they had from Nanming Mountain onto him—after a brief explanation of spells and traditions, they cheerfully left to help the hostess run their guesthouse.
Thanks to his heritage as a descendant of a shaman family, Nan Tian had at least gained a basic understanding of these things.
Although he was nowhere near Yan Shixun’s level—heck, even a novice disciple from Haiyun Temple could outdo him—Nan Tian had still gained some insights and could vaguely sense certain things.
So, when Nan Tian racked his brain trying to drive away the shadow puppets and corpses, he was shocked to find that even the tiny bit of spellwork he knew was completely useless.
However, being a rookie, Nan Tian wasn’t confident in his judgment. He assumed it was his lack of skill or understanding that caused his techniques to fail this time.
But if someone like Lu Xingxing—who came from a legitimate Taoist background—was saying the same thing…
Nan Tian began to doubt his own judgment again.
He truly felt as if this place had cut off the connection between heaven and earth. It was as though they themselves were no longer human, while those shadow puppets looked more like they were filled with the essence of ghosts and spirits.
Nan Tian even suspected—could it be that they were the ones inside the painting? Just like those stories he’d heard in the past from Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio.
But no matter how he phrased it, the idea sounded utterly absurd. Afraid that Song Ci would give him a mocking “heh” in response, and having learned a lesson from Lu Xingxing’s previous example, Nan Tian quietly shut his mouth and decided to observe a little longer.
Lu Xingxing and his companion had managed to escape their room because Nan Tian had opened the door for them, creating a path in what was otherwise a completely sealed space.
Because of this, Lu Xingxing began to wonder if the other guests were in the same situation.
Everyone recalled their memories and confirmed which room each guest had entered. Even while being hunted down, they still made time to check each room to see if anyone else had escaped.
After all, Lu Xingxing knew a bit of Taoist magic, but the others were just ordinary people. Even Xie Lin, who had been with Nan Tian, had disappeared—there was no telling what had happened to the rest.
Lu Xingxing feared that their window of survival might be brief, so he was desperate not to miss it. He was determined to be the first to discover any signs of the others the moment they appeared.
Unfortunately, no matter how many times they checked, the rooms remained empty and silent. No one had shown up, and Lu Xingxing’s hope was crushed bit by bit.
He clutched his cramping fingers, muttering to himself about the situation, completely puzzled.
But just then, his ears twitched—he suddenly heard a loud *thud* come from the next room.
Startled, he turned his head toward the sound. Then, surprise lit up his eyes, and he immediately began hopping toward the room on one leg.
Because the wound on his ankle hadn’t healed, the only way to slow the blood loss was through physical methods. To Lu Xingxing, his injured foot felt as though it had vanished from the end of his leg. The moment it touched the ground, the pain was like walking on a severed limb.
So he had no choice but to move forward in a clumsy, unfamiliar one-legged hop. When he got too excited and forgot about his injury, putting his foot down again, the pain would make him scream and howl like a wounded dog.
Nan Tian was dumbfounded by the sight, while Song Ci looked on in disgust. “What’s this guy up to again?”
Lu Xingxing had determined that the sound had come from the room An Nanyuan and Zhao Zhen had gone to explore.
He excitedly pushed the door open. The name of his friend was right on the tip of his tongue, ready to be shouted—when he was met with the sight of a life-sized wooden skeleton falling straight toward him.
The sound he’d just heard had come from that skeleton.
Its fingers were still extended forward, reaching for Lu Xingxing’s chest like a dagger plunging into his heart.
Lu Xingxing shrieked and quickly grabbed onto the doorframe, hopping to the side on one leg.
*Boom!* The skeleton crashed to the ground.
Only then did Lu Xingxing get a clear look at the room.
An Nanyuan and Zhao Zhen were standing at the back of the room, surrounded by a circle of wooden skeletons, large and small, all neatly turned toward them.
And those skeletons were moving.
Step by step, the wooden figures closed in, forming a tightening circle. Their extended arms pointed directly at the two in the center—there was nowhere left to run.
The two darted left and right, trying to break out of the encirclement.
But although the skeletons had been finely polished and smoothed, their finger bones were unnaturally sharp. Even the slightest touch left a cut.
An Nanyuan’s clothes had already been shredded into rags. He looked like a handsome beggar.
Just as An Nanyuan was shouting in despair, he suddenly noticed the room’s light brighten, as if someone had turned on a lamp.
He looked up in confusion—and through the skeletons in front of him, his gaze met Lu Xingxing standing at the doorway.
An Nanyuan froze, then suddenly lit up with excitement. “Xingxing!”
He waved enthusiastically at Lu Xingxing. “Over here! We’re here! Come save us!”
Lu Xingxing was delighted too. He clung to the doorframe and shouted back, “I can’t save you! Think of a way to get out yourselves!”
What he’d actually wanted to say was that there was something strange about this place. His talismans and spells weren’t working, his leg was still injured, and the half-meter-high doorframe was something he truly couldn’t hop over. An Nanyuan and Zhao Zhen would be better off getting out themselves—the courtyard outside was safer, and Nan Tian was out there, too. Together, they could look after each other.
But after thinking about it, that explanation felt too long-winded. Lu Xingxing was tired from blood loss and didn’t want to say that much, so he simply shortened it.
Which, of course, led to a misunderstanding between the people inside the room.
An Nanyuan: “…”
Then what were you so happy about?
Zhao Zhen shook his head helplessly, but he wasn’t too disappointed.
After all this time traveling together, how could he not understand Lu Xingxing?
Besides, he and An Nanyuan had just randomly appeared in a strange village, chased all over by skeletons. He’d managed on his own so far, and never factored Lu Xingxing into his plans—so there was nothing to be disappointed about.
Still, Zhao Zhen couldn’t help but feel something was off.
Back in the village, every household had been completely empty. It hadn’t felt like a real village at all—more like one drawn by someone’s hand. And it had been there so long that even the paint was oxidizing and fading.
That was why the colors were so dull. Yet not a single scratch could be found on the buildings.
Just when he and An Nanyuan were on the verge of being cornered by the skeletons and forced to flee to the lake, they stood by the shore with water in front and pursuers behind. It looked like their only escape was to jump into the water and swim.
But before Zhao Zhen could even suggest that plan, the village behind them suddenly began to collapse with a thunderous rumble. The skeletons, previously so aggressive, began clacking their teeth in terror as though they’d encountered something horrifying—and started running away.
Zhao Zhen and An Nanyuan exchanged looks, filled with confusion.
What just happened? An earthquake? Or were they really that scary?
But before they could figure it out, the scene around them suddenly shifted. The village and lake vanished, and they were back in the original room they’d been exploring.
As soon as they opened their eyes and got a clear look, they discovered that the wooden skeletons surrounding them had turned their heads with a creaking sound to look directly at them. Then, one by one, they stepped off the display stands and supporting racks, slowly closing in on them.
An Nanyuan was about to lose his mind.
In that moment, his brain involuntarily replayed every horror movie he’d ever seen—wooden puppets that moved, that killed, that murdered their masters and lived on in their place…
Before the skeletons even had the chance to kill them, An Nanyuan was on the verge of a mental breakdown from his own imagination.
From this point on, he felt certain he’d developed a phobia of all things carved from wood.
—Mom, this is way too scary! I can’t take it.
Zhao Zhen managed to stay calm. Even while being surrounded by wooden skeletons, he shouted toward Lu Xingxing at the doorway, “Xingxing, just stand there and keep the door open! We’ll make a break for it!”
Lu Xingxing’s eyes lit up in an instant. He immediately understood what Zhao Zhen meant.
“Oh, oh, I get it! And then as soon as you guys come out, I shut the door, right?”
A smile touched Zhao Zhen’s eyes as he shouted back, “Exactly!”
Next to them, An Nanyuan cast a complicated look at the two of them: You’re plotting loudly like this? You’re just banking on these skeletons not having any brains, huh.
But considering Lu Xingxing couldn’t use talismans and they were under attack, this was probably the best plan they could come up with.
An Nanyuan grabbed Zhao Zhen’s hand, took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and with a muffled “Ahhhh!” charged forward without looking back.
The skeletons’ sharp finger bones left scratches across their bodies, but neither of them cared. Ignoring the pain completely, they ran with everything they had.
If they were afraid of getting hurt, they’d only hesitate more and more until they’d lose any chance of escape.
Better to charge forward now and grab that sliver of hope!
Lu Xingxing did his part perfectly.
He watched them closely, tense, and just as they were about to burst through the doorway, he gripped the door tightly, calmed himself, and began a silent countdown: Ten, nine, eight…
The moment they leapt across the threshold and landed outside, Lu Xingxing slammed the door shut with a loud *bang!* and threw his weight against it, fingers scrambling to lock it as fast as he could.
He timed it so precisely that the wind from the closing door blew right into An Nanyuan’s face, making it feel like he’d just been slapped by a fan.
The two of them landed hard on the ground outside the courtyard and barely managed to stay on their feet. Zhao Zhen bent over, gasping for breath, then looked over to see Lu Xingxing still busy with the door and burst into laughter.
It had been a close call, but they’d made it out—and even found a few companions. Not bad at all.
When Song Ci and Nan Tian saw the two of them come running out, they froze for a second before shouting their names in delight.
“Didn’t think Xingxing would actually be useful for once.”
Song Ci shot Lu Xingxing a sideways glance, then turned to Zhao Zhen and said, “But really, it’s so good you guys made it back.”
Zhao Zhen smiled. “Yeah, Xingxing did great.”
He added sincerely, “Honestly, I was worried Xingxing might mess up the timing and shut the door right as Nanyuan and I were trying to get out, locking us in. But turns out, he pulled it off.”
Song Ci let out a *pfft* and laughed. “That sounds exactly like something that idiot would do.”
Just as Lu Xingxing finished locking the door and looked up, he caught the tail end of their conversation.
With the skeletons banging against the other side of the door behind him, he slumped down like a dog that had been kicked for no reason.
Lu Xingxing: Feels like I’m getting bullied by the both of them.
Before they had time to regroup and look for the others who hadn’t returned yet, the entire Shadow Puppet Museum suddenly started to shake violently.
The withered tree in the courtyard creaked and fell over. The corpses and shadow puppets toppled in all directions, trembling as if in fear.
The group staggered, trying to keep their balance. “What’s going on? An earthquake?”
But even as they asked, cracks began to appear beneath their feet—and in the sky above as well. Around the golden-red sun wheel, flames erupted. The sky began to curl and darken, and the acrid smell of burning filled the air.
Lu Xingxing looked up, and a thought suddenly struck him. This scene—it reminded him of the shadow puppet stage in the room earlier, and the windows that had looked more like paintings than glass.
It was as if the entire sky was one giant shadow puppet screen. The candlelight flickered, tipped over, and the flames began to consume the screen.
The entire Shadow Puppet Museum, along with heaven and earth itself, had been constructed as one massive shadow puppet stage. And now, the illusion was collapsing. The set was burning down, the false reality crumbling away.
As panic began to rise and no one could understand what was happening, the courtyard suddenly came crashing down with a thunderous roar. Bricks tumbled. Dust filled the air.
Through the thick clouds of smoke, two vague figures emerged, illuminated by the burning golden sun wheel as they walked toward them, side by side.
Lu Xingxing squinted. He hadn’t even clearly seen their faces yet, but his survival instincts had already kicked in.
He immediately realized—it had to be his master aunt. That person beside her could only be Yan Shixun.
Lu Xingxing jumped in excitement, waving his arms and shouting, “Master Uncle! Master Aunt! We’re over here!”
The others were momentarily confused by his outburst. But as they looked again, they too recognized the pair—Ye Li and Yan Shixun.
In an instant, everyone began shouting Yan Shixun’s name in excitement.
Yan Shixun glanced at the group in the courtyard, hesitated a moment, then turned to Ye Li and asked, “Since when did you get so close with Lu Xingxing? He’s acting like a hyperactive husky seeing his owner come home.”
Ye Li lowered his eyes with a faint smile. “Probably because he knows now that he doesn’t just have a master uncle—he has a master aunt too.”
Yan Shixun opened his mouth, but before he could reply, a trace of blood suddenly appeared at the corner of his eye.
He coughed and looked back at the group in the courtyard. After counting heads, he realized they were still missing a few.
“They must be trapped in other shadow puppet plays. Let’s go find them.”
The smile on Yan Shixun’s lips gradually faded. “But this still isn’t reality. We’ve only come out of a deeper layer of the shadow puppet world… back to the outer stage.”
At the mention of this, Ye Li’s expression also turned cold and solemn.
He let out a cold snort. His anger toward the one who had used the ebony statue only deepened.
But what truly puzzled him was how his image from a thousand years ago had managed to survive until now…
Ye Li’s bloodless lips pressed into a thin, straight line.
If you love what Ciacia is doing, then consider showing your support by supporting a cup of tea for her at Kofi. If you can’t wait for the next release chapter, subscribe to advanced chapters membership on her Kofi to get access to up to 10 chapters!
