Jiang Yan did not accept the kindness of the girl from the tailor shop. She first went to the pharmacy, entrusting Shen Xiaoxiao to the doctor inside, and then made her way toward the theater.
A dozen meters from the theater, Jiang Yan saw two people.
Aunt Wu lay on the ground, her head facing Jiang Yan, her feet toward the theater. From Jiang Yan’s angle, she could see Aunt Wu’s half-gray hair fluttering in the wind.
Lin Xiaotang was not far from her. His delicate face was pale, his gossip-loving mouth tightly shut. Because they had been dead for some time, the blood beneath them no longer spread but had begun to congeal, darkening under the blazing sun.
They looked like bodies trapped in blood-red amber.
Jiang Yan wanted to break that imprisonment, so she strode forward.
There weren’t many people left in the theater, just seven or eight. Some were young, tasked with errands and wiping tables; others were older, responsible for cooking and laundry. They stood by the gate, hesitant to approach.
As if, by not touching them, those two hadn’t really died.
But this death had unfolded before everyone’s eyes.
Just forty minutes ago, Master Wang had burst into the theater, sitting high and mighty in the main hall, demanding Xi Jueyun accompany him home. At that time, everyone wisely kept silent, pretending to go upstairs to fetch the troupe leader.
But Master Wang grew impatient. After five minutes, he shot Lin Xiaotang, who had been staring at him. Then he threatened that if Xi Jueyun didn’t come down, he would kill one person every five minutes.
No one knew who would be next.
Master Wang’s gun pointed at random—whoever it landed on would be next.
Yet they all remained silent, tacitly guarding the same secret. The theater had been their shelter in Lingren Village; without it, this group would have died long ago!
So now, they could also protect the theater, protect the two troupe leaders.
They had all been prepared to die bravely, but suddenly Yu Renwan came down. With her makeup and costume, she looked so much like Xi Jueyun.
The resemblance was so uncanny that even those used to seeing Xi Jueyun were stunned, let alone Master Wang, whose eyesight was failing.
Thus, Yu Renwan was taken away, and the killing finally stopped.
Jiang Yan could imagine everyone’s grief, but leaving the bodies there wasn’t right. She walked to Aunt Wu’s body and asked, “I can’t move her alone. Can anyone help me?”
At her words, those standing by the door quickly sprang into action.
Two aunties, eyes red, brought over a new coat they’d prepared and carefully wrapped Aunt Wu’s body.
“This is the new coat Old Wu just bought—she never even wore it. She really liked it.”
“I told her so many times, you should enjoy nice things first,” said an auntie about Aunt Wu’s age, shaking her head with regret. She lowered her voice so only two people could hear, “See, she didn’t listen to me. Now it’s too late to regret!”
A boy about Lin Xiaotang’s age stepped forward, trying to carry Lin Xiaotang on his back, but after a few steps, he staggered.
Two girls, thirteen or fourteen, rushed over, calling out in distress, “Be careful! You’re shaking Xiaotang around—what if he falls?”
“Let us do it. Put him down!”
After some debate, the taller girl carried Lin Xiaotang into the theater’s main hall. The two bodies were placed on soft cushions, as if they were sleeping a peaceful sleep.
Once the bodies were settled, everyone began talking about Yu Renwan—Xu Qingsui.
“I wonder how Qingsui is doing…”
“Master Wang is a beast—he can think up all sorts of ways to torture people…”
“If she has to suffer so much, we might as well have all died together just now! Close your eyes and it’s over quickly, but falling into Master Wang’s hands… that pain must be unbearable.”
“But it’s only been a short while—Qingsui should still be okay, right? She must be okay, right?”
“Yeah, when the troupe leader comes back, the Fang family’s guns will be ours. Then we’ll storm the Wang residence and get Qingsui back!”
“Right! Master Wang wanted to marry the troupe leader so badly—he wouldn’t kill her right after bringing her home. Qingsui must be fine!”
They comforted each other, trembling voices gradually steadying, clinging to their hopes.
Their imaginings grew more and more beautiful.
Only Jiang Yan knew that Xu Qingsui was already dead.
She’d died more than ten minutes ago.
Time passed quickly; Xi Jueyun and the others should be back soon. Thinking of Yu Renwan hurriedly putting on makeup upstairs, Jiang Yan suddenly wanted to sit in her room for a while. She climbed the stairs, walked down the corridor, and entered her room.
As soon as she opened the door, she saw makeup and powder scattered across the dressing table.
Jiang Yan carefully closed the boxes and wiped the powder from the table with a cloth.
Xu Qingsui really was a clever person.
Decisive and intelligent.
She knew perfectly well that Master Wang didn’t actually love opera—he just wanted to appear cultured. The other masters liked to listen and critique, so he did too, but in truth he couldn’t tell the roles apart, couldn’t distinguish the makeup, and couldn’t appreciate Xi Jueyun’s singing.
So Xu Qingsui knew she could fool him by herself.
Even if Master Wang asked her to sing, she wasn’t afraid—she was sure he couldn’t tell good from bad.
Thus, she successfully protected Xi Jueyun.
After tidying the boxes, Jiang Yan opened the drawer to put them away, but as soon as she did, she saw a piece of paper on top, covered in writing.
Jiang Yan picked it up and found it was a note from Yu Renwan to her.
[Jiang Jiang, I think I understand her a little.]
She wrote earnestly: [When I heard Master Wang was looking for the troupe leader, my first reaction was that I could pretend to be her. Before I knew it, I was already standing at the dressing table, putting on makeup.]
[At that time, I hadn’t triggered the answer prompt, so I guess I really did understand her in some way. After all, she gave me my chance, and besides, Xi Jueyun is so captivating when she performs—I was almost dazzled by her light.]
[But soon I did trigger the prompt, because I thought of you, Jiang Jiang. I put down the makeup box then.]
[This note was written while time was frozen. I don’t know if you’ll see it. If you’re the first to open the drawer, it should still be here. If someone else opens it, the note will probably disappear—after all, this note… well, it doesn’t fit the persona I show others.]
[Jiang Jiang,] Yu Renwan pressed her pen harder, as if she wanted Jiang Yan to pay special attention to this line.
She wrote: [If I didn’t have to go through this, I would absolutely wait for you to come back. The twins always like each other best. Pingping is still playing Yue Yi, and I think you need someone in the group who likes you best, even if that’s just my feeling, even if you don’t need it at all, even if I really am a bit annoying.]
[But I like you best, Jiang Jiang.]
[That girl liked Xi Jueyun best. I like you best.]
*
Jiang Yan tucked the note into her pocket.
The story had come this far; the ending would surely arrive in the next couple of days.
She would wait for it, earnestly.
Downstairs, Xiao Congye’s angry voice rang out, followed by the crisp crash of a teacup, clattering and clinking as if an entire tea set had been overturned—
They were back.
Jiang Yan went downstairs. Everyone knew now was not the time for anger—the dead were gone, but the living still waited for rescue.
After venting, Xiao Congye began laying out guns on the table: “These were found at the Fang residence. Most are homemade, but there are a few modified silencers. These have little recoil and can fire repeatedly.”
“Master Wang doesn’t know what happened at the Fang residence, doesn’t know we have weapons, and certainly doesn’t expect us to fight back. We want to catch them off guard.”
“We go now. Qingsui will definitely be rescued.”
It was a battle doomed to fail.
Master Wang might die, but Xu Qingsui would never return.
After a quick preparation, Xi Jueyun led the group out, with Xiao Congye and Jin Yuebai right behind. Jiang Yan also took a gun and followed. The theater folk, armed with guns and knives, marched straight for the Wang residence.
Master Wang had two patrol teams. Today was his team’s turn, so one was stationed at the village gate, blocking refugees, while the other guarded his house inside and out.
As they neared the Wang residence, Xi Jueyun led everyone to hide behind the nearest wall.
This wall was a dozen meters from the main gate, where two men were patrolling. It was two in the afternoon, the sleepiest time of day. One man, halfway through his round, yawned, shook his head for a few seconds, then continued.
Jin Yuebai whispered, “Let me. I have good aim.”
She explained her plan: “I’ll use the silenced gun to shoot the one who’s not sleepy first. The sleepy one will react slower. This gun has little recoil and can fire repeatedly, so I’ll shoot the other before he can react.”
“If I miss, Congye, you cover me.”
Xiao Congye nodded.
Jin Yuebai raised her gun, peering out from behind the wall.
The patrolmen were completely unprepared.
She aimed and fired decisively. The first man fell, and the other, stunned for several seconds, fumbled for his gun.
Jin Yuebai mercilessly shot him in the head.
Bang.
With the sound of a body hitting the ground, Jin Yuebai relaxed her shoulders. “All right, let’s go.”
A patrol team had nine men. With two dead, seven remained.
Not all of them were armed—guns and bullets were precious. Xi Jueyun had observed before: in a nine-man team, only six had guns, the other three carried iron rods. The two men outside both had guns.
So they only needed to kill four more armed men; the remaining three were negligible.
But there were always exceptions—maybe today Master Wang had armed everyone. So they couldn’t relax until all were dead.
Xi Jueyun crouched and took the guns from the bodies, then crept toward the main gate.
She waited a few minutes, then, as a breeze blew by, gently pushed the door and quickly hid behind it.
The door creaked open a crack.
The men inside thought the wind had blown it open and didn’t care, just shouted, “Xiao Li, close the door!” and went on chatting.
Xiao Li was likely the patrolman now dead outside.
A few seconds later, Xi Jueyun peeked through the crack. There were three men in the outer courtyard: two with guns, one with a rod—she couldn’t tell if he had a gun as well.
After memorizing their positions, Xi Jueyun closed the door.
She whispered, “Nine o’clock to the left, he’s fiddling with his gun. Twelve o’clock straight ahead, his gun’s hanging from his belt. Three o’clock by the pond, someone has a rod—unclear if he has a gun.”
Xiao Congye thought for a moment. “When the door opens, Yuebai, you shoot the one fiddling with his gun. I’ll shoot the one with a gun but not holding it. The troupe leader will take the one with the rod. Yuebai, help the troupe leader after you’re done.”
The three agreed.
Jiang Yan and another girl exchanged a glance, stepped forward, and each grabbed a door handle. After a silent three-count, they shoved the doors open.
The three armed men were instantly exposed.
They aimed and fired as planned—three nearly silent shots, and two gunmen fell immediately.
But Xi Jueyun’s aim was off; the man she shot didn’t die instantly but staggered back, clutching his chest.
He gasped in pain, then opened his mouth to shout for help.
Jin Yuebai quickly raised her gun, but before she could fire, the girl who’d helped push the door rushed in, swinging her iron rod and smashing the man’s head.
Bang—the man, ready to scream, fell silent, his head twisted grotesquely to one side, breathing his last.
But the girl wasn’t done.
She grabbed his collar and shoved him into the pond.
The man struggled weakly; at first, bubbles rose in the water, but after two minutes, he stopped breathing.
He slipped into the pond.
The girl returned, rod in hand, mouthing, “Without guns, they’re nothing.”
Yes.
They’d feared the masters before because they had guns and endless bullets. Once the shooting started, they had no time or ability to resist.
But now, they were on even ground.
After collecting the guns from the bodies, Jin Yuebai signaled “four” with her hand.
Only Master Wang and four patrolmen remained.
Just as they were about to charge into the inner courtyard, the door suddenly opened.
A man came out whistling, head down, but as he opened the door, he looked up—and the whistling stopped.
Jin Yuebai’s reflexes were quick—she shot him dead on the spot. But since he died right at the inner courtyard gate, his body fell backward onto the threshold.
Blood spread out.
Master Wang’s panicked shouts came from inside, calling the patrolmen to hurry.
Two sets of heavy footsteps approached fast. The group exchanged glances—without a word, everyone took their positions.
Jiang Yan crouched behind the door, rod ready to smash the men’s shins. The brave girl from before hid behind the wall, ready to strike their spines. Jin Yuebai darted behind a tree, Xiao Congye hid behind rocks by the pond, and Xi Jueyun stood straight at the door.
Because her face was the most terrifying thing now.
Sure enough, as the two men stepped out, guns ready, they froze at the sight of Xi Jueyun.
That moment’s hesitation was all the group needed.
Jiang Yan smashed the nearest man’s shin. A crack sounded; the man grimaced in pain, but before he could retaliate, the girl rushed out and struck his spine. The bone-cracking sound was especially clear, and the man collapsed.
The other man was shot twice by Xi Jueyun and died.
After a short pause, Xi Jueyun signaled “two.”
Two left.
The last patrolman was probably guarding Master Wang, or else waiting behind the door to attack.
Now the enemy was in the dark, they were in the open—entering was dangerous.
Xi Jueyun pressed her lips together.
After a moment, she looked at the others, her gaze determined. “I’ll go in first.”
Jin Yuebai hurried forward. “Let me.”
Xi Jueyun refused immediately. “Qingsui took my place, so I should take this risk.”
“No question.”
Xiao Congye’s face was pale, but no one could change Xi Jueyun’s mind, so she didn’t protest.
Half a minute later, Xi Jueyun reached for the door.
But just then, inside, Master Wang cried out again, shouting for help and calling the patrolman’s name. Clearly, just beyond the door, footsteps retreated rapidly.
Xi Jueyun rushed in, aiming her gun at the fleeing man’s back.
Bang!!
This time, her aim was true.
Blood spurted from the man’s neck, and he crashed to the ground.
Everyone surged inside. Master Wang’s desperate screams continued—just the sound betrayed his agony. Following the noise, they ran to his room.
Opening the door, the stench of blood hit them like a wall.
A girl sat atop Master Wang, clutching his remaining eye, pounding his face with her fists. Teeth rattled loose, yellowed teeth fell from his mouth. He was completely blind, unable to see, yet still begging for help, his mouth full of blood.
This girl looked like Xi Jueyun.
But Xi Jueyun ignored her and Master Wang, staring instead at Yu Renwan, suspended from the ceiling by countless red threads.
Yu Renwan’s face was already blue—she had clearly been dead for some time.
Her bloodstained feet hung limp in the air, arms bound high by thin red threads, the cords cutting deep into her flesh, leaving her mangled.
Drop after drop of blood slid from her costume, falling like rain.
Drip.
Jiang Yan reached out, letting a drop fall into her palm. She slowly closed her hand, took a deep breath, and put the blood in her pocket.
She turned and quickly left the room.
Half a minute later, Xi Jueyun’s muffled sobs came from inside.
“I wanted to pass the theater on to her,” her voice trembled, icy cold.
“She was even better than I was as a child. I could tell from the very first note she sang.”
Master Wang was silent now, his eyes gone, nose broken, lips torn. His face was caved in by the girl’s fists—a particularly painful death.
A few minutes later, the girl slid off Master Wang and lay weakly to the side.
“Mother always said the most dangerous place is the safest. I don’t know where my brother ran off to, but after hiding in the yard for a while, I came back to Master Wang’s room and spent the last two days hiding in the cabinet under his bed.”
“I wanted to save her,” the girl whispered, “but there were still two men in the room, both whipping her. I was too scared to go out.”
Xi Jueyun shook her head gently. “You did nothing wrong.”
She looked at the girl’s face. “The one who should… apologize is me.”
But the girl quickly waved her hands. “You did nothing wrong, either.”
“Only Master Wang is to blame.”
“I heard him make a call from the cabinet. He knows what’s happening outside—a unit of foreign soldiers will attack in two days, maybe as soon as tomorrow night.”
“Those foreigners are even worse than Master Wang. This torture with wires is something they often do. They even cut babies from pregnant women’s bellies, and strangle mothers with umbilical cords.”
“Oh, and they do inhuman experiments—putting mothers and children in rooms with heated floors, watching to see if the mother will use her child as a footrest to save herself, all in the name of testing ‘the greatness of maternal love.’”
“The beasts are coming. You all need to run.”
Hearing this, Xi Jueyun was silent for a long time, then suddenly shook her head.
She spoke words from Fang Xuyu’s note:
“When Yingling Flowers burn, their thick smoke causes hallucinations. If you cover your nose with a handkerchief soaked in limewater, you can relieve it for a short time.”
“So we can kill those foreign soldiers.”
“That way… there will be fewer girls who die like Qingsui.”