After carefully putting away the deeds of sale, Jin Yuebai wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. She took out a handkerchief and gently began to clean the dirt from Fang Xuyu’s face.
The boy was very beautiful.
It was a kind of delicate beauty, entirely lacking in aggression—anyone could have bullied him.
In fact, when he was young, he was indeed often bullied by some unpleasant boys.
They would lift his skirt and pull his hair, trying to see for themselves what his gender was.
Jin Yuebai had spent a long time on Flower Street and was a few years older than Fang Xuyu. To put it a bit inelegantly, she had watched Fang Xuyu grow up.
Though they were close in age, she had seen through the ways of the world early on. Fang Xuyu, though often bullied for his looks and dress, was still protected by everyone, so he remained innocent—tolerant and naïve. So when she looked at him, it was as if she were looking at a child.
So many years had passed, yet Fang Xuyu still hadn’t grown up.
After wiping his face clean, Jin Yuebai let out a gentle sigh.
Her gaze fell on the cup of coffee in front of Fang Xuyu, from which only a single sip had been taken.
If Fang Xuyu had truly intended to die together from the start, he wouldn’t have drunk just a small sip of coffee. He still wanted to live—even if it meant a future of painful addiction, at the moment he drank the coffee, he wanted to live.
But he had fallen into a dead end, one he had never been able to escape all these years.
Because he couldn’t get out or make sense of it, he handed his life over to his father, letting him decide whether he deserved to die.
Fang Xuyu shouldn’t have ended this way. This ending was not a good one.
After killing a few men, Xiao Congye also came over. She silently set down her axe and helped straighten Fang Xuyu’s collar.
“He was often unhappy.”
After a moment, she said, “But he won’t be unhappy anymore.”
While the two of them spoke, Jiang Yan and Shen Xiaoxiao were just two meters away.
By now, Old Master Fang’s corpse had been battered beyond recognition by Shen Xiaoxiao.
She kept swinging her knife, again and again, like a machine. Jiang Yan did not stop her, only stood by and watched. Such grief and rage—it was both like Shen Xiaoxiao and not like her.
Perhaps she had triggered the answer prompt; this was what her character was supposed to do.
Or perhaps she hadn’t triggered anything at all—this was simply what Shen Xiaoxiao herself wanted to do.
At this moment, Shen Xiaoxiao and the person she played had reached a unity of mind.
No one knew how much time passed. After a long, wordless frenzy, Shen Xiaoxiao finally stopped. The sharp knife slipped from her hand and fell to the ground with a dull thud. She swayed and sat down heavily.
A few seconds later, her eyes slowly closed. Her weak body tilted back, and with a “thud,” she fainted to the floor.
Jiang Yan quickly stepped forward to catch her.
But Shen Xiaoxiao was already unconscious, her mind clouded, her breathing rapid. Jiang Yan placed a hand on her chest and found her heart was racing, far beyond normal.
Xiao Congye noticed the commotion and hurried over to Jiang Yan.
“What’s wrong?”
Jiang Yan stood up. “It’s probably because of emotional upheaval—her heart’s beating too fast. I’ll take her to the pharmacy to have a look.”
Xiao Congye nodded.
She handed Jiang Yan a gun she’d just taken from a patrolman’s corpse. “Do you know how to use this?”
Jiang Yan replied, “No.”
So Xiao Congye gave her a quick lesson, then said seriously, “This gun has a strong recoil. If you haven’t trained, you probably won’t hit anything, but you can use it to scare people. If you run into danger, just point it.”
“Old Master Fang is dead. Only Master Wang is left in Lingren Village. He probably doesn’t know what happened at the Fang residence yet. With someone above him, he’s still restrained. But if he finds out Old Master Fang is dead, he’ll act even more recklessly than Old Master Fang.”
“So when you go back, don’t make a scene. Stay hidden. Don’t let anyone see you coming from the Fang residence.”
Jiang Yan agreed.
Xiao Congye thought for a moment, then added, “We need to search the Fang residence for supplies—try to find as many guns and bullets as possible. Once we’re all back at the theater, the troupe leader, Yuebai, and I will go to the Wang residence.”
“Now that we have guns, we’re not afraid of them anymore,” Xiao Congye said. “As long as we kill Master Wang, Lingren Village will finally be at peace, and everyone will have a chance to escape.”
With that, Xiao Congye called Xi Jueyun to come inside and search.
After a few steps, she suddenly turned back. “Never mind, I’ll go with you after all.”
But just then, Shen Xiaoxiao, on Jiang Yan’s back, suddenly forced her eyes open and refused Xiao Congye’s offer.
“It’s fine. I know my body… I just need to sleep it off.”
Hearing this, Xiao Congye didn’t insist.
Jiang Yan carried Shen Xiaoxiao out. As she neared the main gate, she listened carefully for sounds outside. Only when she was sure it was quiet did she poke her head out.
Old Master Fang liked peace and quiet; usually, no one dared to linger by his door.
Now, the whole lane was empty. Jiang Yan breathed a sigh of relief and carried Shen Xiaoxiao out.
The Fang residence was only about ten minutes from the theater, but carrying someone—and with the frail body of the girl Jiang Yan was playing—it took her over ten minutes to cover just half the distance.
Under the blazing sun, Jiang Yan wiped her brow in discomfort.
This was the first time she had truly felt the frailty and sensitivity of a human body. Even a slight rise in temperature could make her irritable and a bit of extra weight could crush her. When she was a yao, it wasn’t like this. She disliked sunlight because it was too bright, disliked carrying people because she didn’t want to be close to humans.
Those were subjective dislikes.
Now, everything was objective. She had no room for preference—her mind and body were simply exhausted.
The fatigue of the second half of the walk doubled.
It took Jiang Yan nearly twenty minutes to reach the shop-lined street. At the end of the street was the theater, and not far from it was the pharmacy. Jiang Yan instinctively relaxed.
But just as she did, she realized something was wrong.
Shen Xiaoxiao had been groaning the whole way—why had she suddenly gone quiet?
Jiang Yan immediately reached back and touched Shen Xiaoxiao’s face. Her cheek was burning hot.
She had a fever.
Jiang Yan quickened her pace, but even as she focused all her energy on putting one foot in front of the other, she couldn’t help but notice the furtive glances from the people in the shops.
Their looks meant different things—some were watching for drama, some were cold, some worried.
The girl from the tailor’s shop saw Jiang Yan, avoided her gaze for a moment, then, after a moment’s thought, looked up and hurried over.
She whispered, “Don’t go back.”
“Don’t go back yet.”
Jiang Yan was stunned and stopped in her tracks.
She wanted to ask why, but just then, a “ding-dong” sounded in her mind.
Shen Xiaoxiao was almost traumatized by that sound.
Even now, in agony, she instinctively clapped her hands over her ears, trying to block out whatever was coming.
But the cold female voice still drifted in—
[Yu Renwan has died.
Congratulations on completing Xu Qingsui’s character ending.
The performance continues.]
*
The moment she heard the voice, Shen Xiaoxiao broke down and closed her eyes. She was burning up, her mind fragile, unable to remember anything—only that her friend had suddenly died.
She wanted to scream, to let everything out, but the moment the thought arose, the answer prompt was triggered.
After choosing her option, she was forced into unconsciousness.
The news came so suddenly that Jiang Yan’s mind went blank.
The tailor shop girl’s lips moved, and Jiang Yan caught three words from her mouth—
“Master Wang.”
Jiang Yan forced herself to calm down, closed her eyes briefly, and asked, “Master Wang… what happened to him?”
The girl hurriedly said, “One of his eyes was blinded by a girl who looked a lot like the troupe leader. The other is so blurry he can barely see. He’s gone mad looking for that girl, but hasn’t found her.”
“I don’t know how, but forty minutes ago he suddenly showed up at the theater, demanding to see the troupe leader. He said if she didn’t come out, he’d shoot someone every five minutes. Lin Xiaotang and Aunt Wu’s bodies are still outside the theater…”
Images of Lin Xiaotang and Aunt Wu flashed through Jiang Yan’s mind.
Lin Xiaotang hardly needed explanation—a chattering, justice-loving fifteen-year-old boy, a gossip, and Jin Yuebai’s number one fan.
Aunt Wu was the lady who washed the theater’s costumes. Back when Jiang Yan didn’t know how to hand-wash clothes properly, it was Aunt Wu who taught her.
She taught her how long to soak the clothes, how to beat them, how to hang them so there’d be no wrinkles.
Because she felt sorry for Jiang Yan’s hands, white and swollen from soaking, she often took half the laundry to wash herself.
She was, in short, a kind and gentle aunt.
At this point, the girl seemed to recall the scene, and her body trembled slightly.
She lowered her voice, angry: “The troupe leader is so good to us, always saving food for us. If not for her… if not for her, so many people would have starved to death!”
“Master Wang must be desperate. Old Master Fang was still around, and so was Fang Xuyu—how could he dare touch the troupe leader?”
“Fang Xuyu would definitely avenge her. There’s so much blood outside the theater, it’s terrifying. Don’t go back yet,” the girl said to Jiang Yan. “Come wait in the shop.”
But Jiang Yan didn’t move.
She lowered her eyes, already understanding Master Wang’s intentions.
—Master Wang wasn’t desperate. He just thought there was no problem targeting Xi Jueyun now.
Old Master Fang had died in secret; news wouldn’t spread so quickly. So Master Wang wasn’t acting this way because Old Master Fang was dead, but because he knew Old Master Fang was planning to escape.
Since he was going to flee, he wouldn’t waste time, energy, or supplies, nor would he bother targeting a mere theater troupe leader. Even if Master Wang’s power was far less than Old Master Fang’s, if it came to a real fight, Old Master Fang would still lose something.
On the run, even a single bullet could save your life.
Master Wang understood this well. He also knew that, while Old Master Fang might humor Fang Xuyu in daily life, at a time like this, he would never stick his neck out for his son’s friend. He might even wish the theater would be destroyed, so Fang Xuyu would give up his dreams of performing.
So Master Wang had no qualms about going after Xi Jueyun.
He’d coveted her for a long time, and now, after having one eye gouged out by a girl who looked like her, his old and new grudges combined—he was determined to destroy Xi Jueyun.
But the problem was, Xi Jueyun wasn’t at the theater at all.
Thinking back to the voice she’d just heard, Jiang Yan had already guessed the truth.
She instinctively lowered her voice.
“Did Master Wang leave?”
The girl nodded sadly. “He left.”
“He left in such a hurry that the troupe leader didn’t even have time to remove her stage makeup. She followed Master Wang in her Yu Ji costume, but she didn’t take her Mandarin duck sword.”
The girl guessed, “Maybe the sword was too sharp, and Master Wang wouldn’t let her take it.”
Jiang Yan didn’t contradict her.
The story had taken a dramatic turn; the truth was complicated.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t allowed to take it.
It was that the sword was in the real Xi Jueyun’s hands.
The one who went to her death in Xi Jueyun’s place was Yu Renwan.
She was also Xu Qingsui, a hundred years ago.
To avoid being recognized by Master Wang, this highly talented girl had hurriedly applied thick makeup upstairs. To make it less conspicuous, and with two gunshots ringing out, she suppressed all emotion, calmly putting on Xi Jueyun’s costume.
Fortunately, her figure was nearly identical to Xi Jueyun’s.
Fortunately, Lin Xiaotang and Aunt Wu never revealed where the real Xi Jueyun was, even to their deaths.
If even one person in the theater had told the truth, today would have been a different story. Master Wang would have rushed to the Fang residence, trapping everyone there, and Lingren Village would never have had a future.
So, if anyone reads this story, they should know that in this play there are leads and supporting roles, but in the end, they are all leads.
Their roles are clear, each linked to the next.
They all have ideals.