Chapter 6
A touch of warmth dispelled the chill from the damp air. Chen Si’s hand had, at some point, grasped her wrist. “Sister, what are you looking at?”
At some point, the rain had stopped.
The sun slowly rose, scattering the gloomy clouds that had usurped the sky. Jiang Liu looked at the empty, desolate land at the end of the road and asked softly, “What is this place?”
“Just some wasteland on the outskirts of the city. Mother said this place was very lively when she was young. Unfortunately, after the theater was abandoned, most of the families moved into the city.”
Chen Si explained, then scratched her head in confusion. “If Senior Sister Ren came here, she probably went back when the rain let up. There are no houses here.”
Jiang Liu hummed in acknowledgment, her tone making it unclear whether she agreed with her or not. She simply folded the umbrella and turned back. “Then let’s go back and see. What were you saying just now? Granny always has people come over?”
“Yes, the seniors from the old troupe, and the senior brothers and sisters who came to be apprentices, they’ve all been here. I overheard the butler say this; I wasn’t even born then.”
Chen Si stuck out her tongue playfully and shared a secret with Jiang Liu. “Mother doesn’t want me to know about these things. Luckily, the old butler is easy to trick. A pot of wine can get him to talk a lot!”
Seeing the pride on her little face, Jiang Liu laughed along with her.
“You’re quite something. What about the people who came to rehearse before?”
Chen Si thought for a moment, stroking her chin. “They all left. Western songs and dances are popular these days, so they probably went to find other work. In any case, I’ve never seen them again.”
As she said this, she quickly grabbed Jiang Liu’s hand. “Sister Liu won’t leave, right?”
She had always listened to those old stories as if they were just tales, never thinking they would happen to her. It wasn’t until Jiang Liu and the others were asked to rehearse this time that she belatedly realized—would Jiang Liu leave too?
Faced with her pleading gaze, Jiang Liu fell silent for a moment, unable to bear hurting her.
Fortunately, Chen Si wasn’t insistent on getting a definite answer and just continued on her own. “Mother has been staring at old photos every night recently. Perhaps this will be the last time she listens to the opera.”
It wasn’t that she didn’t like it, but rather—she truly lacked the strength.
Jiang Liu listened quietly all the while. Just as they were about to reach the theater entrance, she asked, as if casually, “Was Granny a member of the old opera troupe?”
Chen Si shook her head. “I don’t think so. She bought this place after it was abandoned.”
She muttered this, then, as if suddenly remembering something, she quickly said, “Oh no, I’m going to be late for school. I won’t go in with you, Sister Liu.”
Jiang Liu grabbed her and asked softly, “I wonder if Linlin is back yet? Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”
As she spoke, she looked down at Chen Si from a slightly superior height. From this angle, no emotion could escape her sight, and naturally, she didn’t miss the deep-seated fear in her eyes.
Chen Si flinched imperceptibly and forced a smile. “The teacher is very strict. I’ll come back tonight.”
Saying this, she summoned an unknown strength, broke free from Jiang Liu’s hand, and ran off in a panic.
Jiang Liu watched her disappear before pushing the door open and walking in. Before she could close the door, Zhang Xiaochen, who had been waiting, jumped out.
“You guessed it! You came back right as the clock chimed!”
In his excitement, he forgot his manners and pulled Jiang Liu to look at the clock, but she pushed him away, her gaze directed inside the room. “Is Ren Linlin back?”
Xu Shu and Xu Meng, who were a step behind him, finally appeared. Hearing her question, they rushed to answer, “She’s back. She said she learned a lot from Granny and is going to take a nap.”
Granny? Granny Chen? Jiang Liu raised an eyebrow, a hint of inquiry in her eyes.
Before she could say more, Zhang Xiaochen squeezed over again. “We’ve all checked. She’s up and about, no problem. First, tell me what’s going on with this clock.”
Before leaving, Jiang Liu had told him to pay attention to the clock’s chimes. Combined with Chen Si’s strange behavior yesterday, he immediately had an idea.
The clock chimed twice a day, three times each.
Chen Si would inevitably come to deliver food before the chimes and leave on time, never staying a second longer.
It was like when they went out to look for Ren Linlin together; she didn’t even think to come in and check when they reached the door.
As he laid out his findings, Xu Meng suddenly interjected, “No, it was three times!”
Yellow Hair was taken aback. “What three times?”
“I woke up last night because I heard the clock! It was just striking the third chime!”
Xu Meng recalled the events of last night and spoke with great certainty.
Xu Shu and Zhang Xiaochen looked at each other, and the male student who had slept like a log last night didn’t know what to say. Seeing that no one believed her, Jiang Liu spoke up.
“It was indeed three times.”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was exceptionally clear to everyone’s ears and also very convincing.
After last night’s events, Xu Shu and the other two already trusted her completely and knew that Jiang Liu wouldn’t joke about such things.
As for the two who were still half-convinced… they had no way to refute it.
After all, the incident with Ren Linlin had just happened, and it was Jiang Liu who had taken the initiative to go look for her.
Jiang Liu organized her thoughts and explained slowly.
“The clock chimes in the morning, we get up; the clock chimes at night, some of us are woken up to rehearse.”
She had been woken by the clock last night, and there was an opera costume next to her. The situation was identical to Ren Linlin’s; she must have been chosen to go on stage.
Xu Meng was woken by the clock, and the commotion from her argument with Ren Linlin was not small. It didn’t make sense that it would wake up Xu Shu but not the other two, so only some people could hear it.
Zhang Xiaochen frowned and asked, “What about me? I woke up because I was scared to death by a nightmare!”
Xu Shu’s eyes lit up as if he had thought of something. He turned to ask the two students, “Did you have any dreams?”
The two of them rubbed their noses and shook their heads in unison.
“That’s right. People who aren’t chosen won’t wake up no matter how much you shout. As for you, you probably overslept because you didn’t hear the clock, which is why you had a nightmare about ghosts.”
Xu Shu looked at Yellow Hair and gave his blunt assessment.
Zhang Xiaochen wanted to argue, but after thinking about it, that seemed to be the only explanation.
It couldn’t be that he was the only unlucky one in the room, destined to have nightmares as soon as he moved in!
He pouted sullenly and fell silent.
Xu Shu then continued his analysis. “Combined with the information we gathered, everything can be explained.”
The old man from the morning had been a great help. This theater really did have some unknown stories.
About fifty years ago, he was the seven or eight-year-old child in the photo, and his greatest joy was being taken by his parents to watch the opera. At that time, the Curtain Dream Theater had not yet been abandoned and was at its peak. It had produced a talented Troupe Master who was both an actor and a director. The scripts he handled were all well-received, and his performances were always sold out.
And not only was he not arrogant, but he became even more immersed in his creative work.
Jiang Liu could still remember the look of regret in the old man’s eyes when he mentioned him.
“My family lived nearby at the time and was almost affected by the fire. Fortunately, no one was inside at the time, but it seems the Troupe Master was injured while trying to fight the fire and never performed on stage again.”
It was a good thing that no one in the opera troupe was injured or killed. The regular patrons were willing to donate money for the reconstruction, and the place was quickly repaired. Even though the Troupe Master no longer performed, the plays he wrote were still brilliant.
Hearing this, the male student muttered to himself, “That’s not right. If that’s the case, the opera troupe wouldn’t be in such a sorry state.”
Xu Meng pursed her lips. “I heard they were planning to reopen, but for some reason, the people in the original troupe all insisted on leaving, saying it was haunted.”
Later, some people who didn’t believe in ghosts tried to invest in developing a new troupe, but the actors who went on stage, as if possessed, became better and better at acting, but they also gradually went mad.
Over time, no one paid it any attention anymore.
After hearing the whole story, everyone fell silent.
The fire, the haunting, the rehearsals—every detail matched their own experiences.
Zhang Xiaochen scratched his head. “But what does this have to do with the clock chimes?”
For a moment, all eyes were on him. It was Xu Meng who, as if thinking of something, drew a sharp breath and asked strangely, “Have you ever heard of a saying?”
Before anyone could answer, she eagerly continued.
“Clocks at specific times can connect the mortal and spirit worlds, like at midnight and noon. Doesn’t that connect with our situation?”
The more she spoke, the paler her face became, and her hand holding the cup was trembling slightly.
At these words, several of them broke out in a cold sweat.
Only Jiang Liu’s eyes lit up.
Although she didn’t know where she had heard it, this saying could explain the current situation.
No normal person would rehearse at midnight, and no ghost would parade around in broad daylight at noon.
What was abnormal—was definitely not just this theater.
Recalling the fear deep in Chen Si’s eyes, which perhaps even she herself hadn’t noticed, Jiang Liu already had a plan in mind.
With a general understanding of the situation, handling it now became much easier.
Night fell.
The familiar chimes of the clock rang out again. Jiang Liu opened her eyes at the first sound and came face to face with Chen Si’s delicate features.
She didn’t find an opera costume in her arms. She didn’t rush to get out of bed, but instead leaned against the side of the bed and observed her.
Chen Si was sleeping soundly, her breathing even. Her long, curly eyelashes cast a shadow on her cheeks. A playful impulse took hold of her, and she leaned in and blew on them a couple of times, noticing that the lashes trembled with the breeze, like the wings of a butterfly about to take flight, evoking a sense of pity.
Her cool fingertips traced a path down her cheek, past her neck and chest, and finally came to a slow stop on Chen Si’s wrist.
There was a pulse. She was alive.
The dagger from last night was hidden in her sleeve. If she wanted to, she could slice through the delicate skin at any moment. The pain would be enough to wake anyone from a deep sleep.
Only then could she confirm her suspicions.
Jiang Liu lowered her eyes, her fingers unconsciously caressing the skin on her wrist. For a moment, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Her almost pleading words echoed in her ears again, “Sister Liu won’t leave, right?”
A creak and the sound of footsteps from the opening door interrupted her thoughts.
The door was opened, and Ren Linlin’s slightly smiling voice came through. “Senior Sister Jiang, it’s time for us to rehearse.”
The faint moonlight made her skin look as white as paper, pale and bloodless. Paired with the faint smile on her lips, it was truly chilling.
Jiang Liu just calmly withdrew her hand, tucked Chen Si in, and got up, ignoring Ren Linlin’s strange appearance.
“Let’s go.”