As Li Huowang watched the scene unfold on the makeshift stage, he remained unsure of which opera was being performed. Meanwhile, the audience, composed mainly of local farmers, began to stir. They started tossing copper coins, one or two at a time, toward the stage.
Most of these hardworking farmers from the fields couldn't afford to give money, so instead, they threw corn cobs, potatoes, or other staples as their offering. Wealthier families occasionally tossed salted fish or cured meat.
However, Luo Juanhua (the daughter-in-law of the opera troupe leader, Lü Zhuangyuan) graciously accepted everything with repeated bows of thanks.
"So, this is how opera performers earn their livelihood?" thought Li Huowang, finally understanding their way of earning a living.
As Luo Juanhua knelt on the stage, humbly picking up the offerings while singing mournfully and holding her young daughter, she frequently bowed to the audience to express her gratitude. Witnessing this, Li Huowang couldn't help but sigh at how difficult it was to make a living in this trade.
Just as Luo Juanhua was engrossed in collecting the items, a small piece of broken silver was tossed onto the stage. Her eyes lit up instantly. She picked it up and weighed it lightly in her hand, estimating it to be at least five qian (about 15 grams). Her sorrowful voice turned even more dramatic as she continued singing, all the while bowing profusely in the direction of the plump, wealthy old man in silk clothing who had thrown the silver.
"Good! Wonderful performance!" the red-faced old man cheered as he tossed another piece of broken silver onto the stage, earning even more bows of gratitude from Luo Juanhua.
Feeling disinterested in this spectacle, Li Huowang let out a yawn and reclined back on the pile of straw. Turning to Zhao Wu, the most level-headed among the group, he said, "I'm going to take a nap. Keep an eye on things."
"Got it, Senior Brother," Zhao Wu replied.
When Li Huowang reopened his eyes, it was already mid-morning. The others were chatting idly nearby, indicating that they had spent the previous night in the same straw pile. The opera stage had been taken down, and the members of the Lü family troupe were busy packing their props into the wooden box on their cart.
"Zhao Wu, how much food do we have left?" Li Huowang suddenly asked.
"Not much—enough for three days if we're careful," Zhao Wu replied promptly.
Li Huowang retrieved a small stash of copper coins and a piece of dark silver from his pocket—loot he had managed to scavenge back at the Qingfeng Temple—and handed them to Zhao Wu. "Go to the village and get some food. Make sure it's enough to last us."
There were over a dozen people in their group, mostly young men with big appetites. The rations they had brought from the Qingfeng Temple had almost run out, and they were now facing a food shortage.
Zhao Wu initially intended to send the large, simple-minded "Fool" into the village for the errand. However, after some thought, he beckoned one of the younger, more presentable junior monks and handed the money to him, whispering a few instructions.
Meanwhile, Li Huowang got up from the straw pile and made his way toward the opera troupe.
"Elder Lü, when are we setting off?" he asked Lü Zhuangyuan, the troupe leader.
Lü Zhuangyuan appeared uneasy as he replied, "Daoist priest, if you could give us a little more time... My daughter-in-law and granddaughter left early this morning, and we're still waiting for them to return. Once they're back, we'll leave immediately."
Li Huowang furrowed his brows in confusion. "Hmm? She's missing? Isn't that her over there?"
Following Li Huowang's gesture, Lü Zhuangyuan looked toward the village entrance and spotted Luo Juanhua returning, holding a few bolts of fabric and carrying her daughter in her arms. Her face radiated satisfaction as she approached.
Upon seeing his seemingly carefree daughter-in-law, Lü Zhuangyuan flew into a rage. He stormed toward her with his tobacco pipe, scolding her loudly.
Luo Juanhua, unfazed by her father-in-law's anger, explained innocently, "But, Father, wasn't it you who told me to go buy fabric in the village? You said it's cheaper here than in town..."
After venting his frustration, Lü Zhuangyuan turned back to Li Huowang, smiling apologetically. "Daoist priest, everything's fine now. Let's get going."
"Wait, Father! Don't leave yet. I just landed us a job while I was buying fabric," Luo Juanhua interjected with excitement.
Both Lü Zhuangyuan and Li Huowang turned to look at her. "What job?"
"What else could it be? Of course, it's a performance job!" Luo Juanhua replied matter-of-factly. "The client is that old gentleman who gave us the most money last night. He says he wants to discuss something important with you."
At these words, Lü Zhuangyuan froze. After a brief pause, he turned back toward the village with a sheepish grin. Li Huowang understood his unspoken request and said, "It's fine, Elder Lü. Earning money is more important. We can wait another day."
"Oh, thank you, thank you! I'll be back soon," said Lü Zhuangyuan, inserting his tobacco pipe into his neckband and heading toward the village with Luo Juanhua.
Left with nothing to do, Li Huowang returned to the straw pile and began examining the damaged copper bell he carried. If he could figure out how to summon the "Yóu Lǎoyé" (the Old Master of Wandering Souls), it would greatly enhance his abilities.
Unfortunately, the bell no longer worked. He needed to find a way to repair it.
After inspecting it closely, he determined that the most likely issue was the dented bell wall.
"If I can straighten it out, maybe it will work again," he thought.
Placing the bell on a flat stone, Li Huowang struck the dented side with another rock. The moment he did, the bell emitted an ear-piercing sound, causing a sharp headache that made him nearly drop the stone.
"This method won't work. I need to find a blacksmith in this village." He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the dizziness.
At that moment, he noticed the young monks returning, dragging two large sacks behind them. Li Huowang tucked the bell away and walked over with Zhao Wu.
"Senior Brother, this is all we could get," said the young monk, his face filled with worry. Despite their youth, these children had learned to be resourceful and responsible—traits honed through survival under the brutal regime of the Qingfeng Temple.
Li Huowang opened the sacks and found them filled with dried sweet potatoes.
"Senior Brother, this stuff doesn't provide much energy. 'Fool' here can eat a pound and a half in one sitting, and if we eat too much of it, it gives us heartburn," Zhao Wu said.
Hearing this, the burly "Fool" hung his head in shame. "I...I...I won't...eat much... Please don't leave me behind..."
Faced with a looming food crisis, Li Huowang pulled out a small, ornate golden ring wrapped in a red string from his belongings. He hesitated for a moment before handing it to Bai Lingmiao, who had been quietly standing behind him.
"Take this and see if you can barter with it," he said. Then, pulling out the jade pendant that had belonged to Xuan Yang, he handed it to Zhao Wu.
"But, Senior Brother, this won't work. The village doesn't have a pawnshop, and the farmers probably won't recognize its value," Zhao Wu replied, looking troubled.
Just as they were puzzling over the problem, Lü Zhuangyuan and Luo Juanhua returned from the village. The opera leader seemed hesitant but finally spoke up.
"Daoist priest, I've run into a bit of trouble with this new job. Would you mind helping me out?" he asked.
"I can't sing opera, Elder Lü. I doubt I can be of much help," Li Huowang replied, puzzled by the request.
"No, no, it's not that. It's just..." Lü Zhuangyuan glanced around nervously before leaning in and lowering his voice. "The client wants us to perform a ghost opera."
Annotations and Explanations
Copper Coins, Broken Silver, and Food as Payment
In traditional Chinese rural settings, especially during times of poverty, it was common for farmers to offer goods like food or small amounts of silver instead of money for services. This reflects the subsistence-level economy of the time, where bartering was often more practical than monetary transactions.
Ghost Opera (鬼戏)
Ghost operas are a traditional form of Chinese opera performed during certain rituals or festivals, often to appease spirits or ancestors. These performances are steeped in superstition and spiritual belief, making them a unique cultural practice that outsiders may find intriguing or eerie.
Yóu Lǎoyé (游老爷)
This character, loosely translated as the "Old Master of Wandering Souls," is linked to the supernatural and reflects traditional Chinese beliefs in spirits and the afterlife.