Changdong replied, "Yes." "May I ask your name?" The man looked worn, yet standing alone under a solitary tree at night, he showed no signs of anxiety or fear. Changdong sensed there was something special about him, so he answered politely, "Changdong." "Ah, I'm Li Jinao." Changdong glanced at the ground: just now, Li Jinao had scattered rice outside, and the rooster had been pecking at it. By rights, there should have been at least a few grains scattered. Yet there was not a single grain to be seen—after the rooster finished pecking, its eyelids closed gently, as if suspended on a production line, motionless and serene, like a slaughtered animal awaiting its turn. Li Jinao followed Changdong's gaze, with a touch of pride in his tone. "My rooster isn't ordinary. Don't many travelers carrying supplies at night leave behind a rooster for good luck?" Changdong said, "We were in such a hurry, so we didn't have time to bring one." Li Jinao seemed quite understanding. "People who can operate iron-wheeled vehicles simply don't value this." Changdong felt a bit stressed: it’s always said that wealth should remain private, but now, driving on the road feels like sticking cash notes all over your clothes, with a fan running beside you, constantly making noise—just to ensure no one notices. Ding Liu couldn’t sit still in the backseat and spoke softly, “Dongguang, don’t you think you’re going to suffocate everyone with all this chatting? If you were to manage my nightclub, guests would have already left long ago.” Changdong gracefully shifted to the side, and Ye Liuxi gestured toward the outside of the car to indicate. Ding Liu wanted to make a good impression, so she stepped back on the seat, pressing her abdomen against Changdong’s headrest to stay balanced, and leaned her head out the window with a warm smile, “Good morning, Uncle Li.” She looked like a fish suspended across the window, and Li Jinao had to hold onto her ankle to prevent her from suddenly losing balance and slipping out. The way she called him “Uncle” was truly pleasant—Li Jinao smiled warmly, “You’re quite a young lady, aren’t you?” "Call me Xiao Liu, okay? Uncle, you're really brave—you've never stayed overnight at a nightclub, have you? My brother always scares me, saying nightclubs are absolutely terrifying." Saying this, she shoved her elbow into Chang Dong's shoulder. Chang Dong coughed twice and lowered his voice: "Don't exaggerate too much." Seeing Ding Liu smiling so fresh and delicate, Li Jin'ao's tone softened with a touch of tenderness: "Your brother isn't wrong. Red Flower Tree Nightclub is a bit lively—people come to stay, and others often do too." Ding Liu widened her eyes: "That really works? What if something goes wrong?" She turned sharply to Chang Dong and shouted: "Bro, you should've told me earlier! I'm so timid, and you weren't even the first person to know!" Chang Dong used his finger to plug his side ear, while Ye Liuxi softly sighed in the other ear: "It takes a young girl to calm down an old man." Li Jiniao comforted Ding Liu: "Don't worry. It may sound strange, but in reality, it's not that extraordinary—just follow the rules. After all, who would dare go to Liangshan without some solid qualifications? And as for those who can stay at nightclubs, they're certainly not ordinary people." Ding Liu's eyes sparkled: "Uncle Jiniao, you're really praising yourself in a clever way. Our whole group only dared to venture out at night after pooling our courage, and we've been on edge the entire way. You, on the other hand, tied a chicken to your belt and stood alone here like you're just sunbathing—Uncle Jiniao, aren't you quite impressive?" Li Jiniao laughed so hard he couldn't stop: "Oh, really, really—how humble I am!" He lifted the box in his hands: "I'm just a traveling shadow puppeteer who occasionally performs at markets. Once I settle in, I'll see if I can get a chance to perform. If you don't mind, I'd be grateful for your support." "Before she could finish, the glow on the red-flowered tree suddenly began to slide down the branches slowly. Ding Liu still hadn't finished her "ah" when Li Jin'ao also noticed: "It's about time to gather the tree—we just need to follow." The warm, luminous light flowed like water, gathering at the base of the tree before winding off toward the distance, like a glowing serpent pointing the way. Ding Liu pretended to be puzzled: "What is this, exactly? Oh, last time someone mentioned it to me—I must have forgotten. What a mess my head is!" She clenched her fists and tapped them against her own head. Li Jin'ao added casually: "It's flowing light—everyone at the inn is afraid to go out at night and uses it to guide their way. This thing is so dull, always going straight, never waiting for people. Maybe it's the light that leaves people behind. We'd better keep up." He strode ahead, while Chang Dong drove slowly behind. Ding Liu sat back down, reached up to rub her neck—she had been leaning forward so long, her neck had gone stiff. Fei Tang praised her: "Good work, little Ding—she just opened her mouth Ding Liu lowered her eyelids: "It's just that he has no face or substance—my father-in-law taught me that. When a young girl lacks both, people find her endearing; they might think she's just naive or unworldly. But once she grows older, using this tactic makes people wary—like they suspect something else is going on. Oh, Dong, Li doesn't tell the truth at all. He claims to be a shadow puppeteer—how could anyone believe that?" Chang Dong replied, "He's supposed to start his performance tonight. We'll find out when the time comes." —— After about fifteen minutes, light began seeping into the underground space, and both person and vehicle came to a halt, waiting. A while later, a square cover about one meter by one meter was lifted, and someone emerged, exclaiming, "Oh, we still need parking space? Wait a moment, please." He first escorted Li Jinao down. After a few more minutes, a cover was lifted at a spot about fifty meters to the west, and the person there waved, "This way, this way—come in." It's really just a basement garage. The entrance features a downward slope, and the door is covered with paving slabs that blend seamlessly with the ground when closed. The garage is small—roomy enough for perhaps two or three cars—and now, there's only their one vehicle. The group each takes their luggage down. Chang Dong hands Leaf Liwxi a separately packaged disposable medical mask and instructs her to put it on. Leaf Liwxi is puzzled: "Why? Because I'm beautiful?" She knows she's beautiful, but she's aware of her limits—her beauty doesn't quite command awe: over the years she's sold watermelons, only once has someone forgotten to give change simply because she was attractive, and even then, they came back to ask for it again. Chang Dong lowers his voice: "Given that you've found new life on a rope that once held you suspended, shouldn't you cover your face when you're in crowded places? Wouldn't you worry about having a strong rival among the people inside?" Indeed, Leaf Liwxi complies and puts on the mask. The person then guides them through the tunnel and opens a small door into the main hall. The building isn't particularly large, the lighting is dim, and its style somewhat resembles the Hakka tulou of Fujian—simple, modest, and slightly outdated. With a diameter of about forty to fifty meters, it's dug down nearly two floors deep, forming a circular ring around its base. The guest rooms are clustered closely together, numbering over twenty. In the central area of the ring lies a dining hall and gathering space, where several tables are already in use, with chickens walking in and out between them. A middle-aged woman sat at the front desk, her features plain as if drawn on a blank sheet of paper. She pushed a piece of hard cardboard across the table: "Power will go out after eleven o'clock. After that, please don't move around in the public areas—otherwise, should anything happen, we'll be responsible only for our own injuries and damages. All water usage for bathing and toilet facilities will be at the ground floor. This list contains the items we're particularly interested in. Please take a look." Chang Dong reviewed it, considering the remaining supplies on the vehicle, and then checked off several items with his pen—flashlights, medical supplies, dry batteries, pliers, and wrenches. The woman was satisfied: "That should be enough for the stay. We'll handle the check-in and check-out details when you settle your bill." Chang Dong chose a larger room on the second floor. The inn carried a certain, indistinct sense of gloom, and staying together would offer added safety. Beds could be arranged on the floor if needed—after all, no one on this trip expected much luxury. After setting down their luggage, several of them went downstairs for dinner and ordered several bowls of egg noodles. While waiting for the dishes to be served, they glanced around and noticed that people were actually doing business at each table—some handing over books to someone telling a story, others measuring in person for custom clothing, and even a vendor selling roosters. When the noodles arrived, Ye Liuxi pushed his mask up slightly, revealing only his mouth, and picked up a spoonful of noodles, eating without any difficulty. Chang Dong found this amusing, until he suddenly heard the sharp voice of the front-desk woman: "There aren't even any guests here—what's the point of watching a shadow play?" He turned around to see Li Jiniao holding her suitcase, politely trying to explain something to the woman. The woman grew impatient: "For people like you, we've already been especially generous—letting you stay free of charge is no small thing. In today's world, how can we go out of our way to offer you something just so you can perform? In short, we won't be inviting you—we'll let you go around asking the guests themselves. If they're willing to pay to see the show, that He looked at Ye Liuxi. It had become routine—whenever there was something to discuss, the first person he thought of was always her. Ye Liuxi returned his gaze, her mask creased and slightly askew on her nose, looking rather comical. "Why don't we have him open the show?" Fat Tang, busy eating with a steady stream of 'hmm-hmm' sounds, thought it a waste of effort. "Why invite him at all? Dongguang can also perform shadow puppetry. We have plenty of supplies, but we should still be careful with them." Ding Liu suddenly grew displeased. "If West Sister wants to see it, then let's invite him. Your stinginess is on me—I'll cover it!" She turned to her supervisor with a pout. "Auntie, here." Li Jin'ao's eyes lit up. He grabbed his stage box and hurried over, the rooster tied to his belt swaying back and forth like a lifeless decoration. First, he handed her a booklet, asking her to choose a story. When he opened it, the very first story listed was "Summoning the Spirit." Chang Dong asked, "Is this the tale of Emperor Wu and Lady Li Jin'ao nodded. "Yes, this story has always been the opening piece of the playbooks—since the origins of shadow puppetry." Chang Dong said, "Then let's go with this one." Li Jin'ao folded the booklet and opened the stage box to prepare. As Chang Dong looked around, he was momentarily struck by the simplicity. Inside the box, aside from a three-foot piece of fresh silk, a clay flute, and a black cloth pouch, there was nothing else. It was nothing like his own stage box, which contained a variety of leather items, carving knives, finished or half-finished shadow puppets, sketch drawings, painting brushes, and porcelain bowls for mixing glue—so many that he couldn't count them with his ten fingers. Li Jin'ao proudly declared, "If you're coming to see shadow puppetry, you've come to the right person. I myself may not be up to the mark today, but my ancestors—no exaggeration—actually served Emperor Wu of Han, attending performances of shadow puppetry." He secured the stage box halfway, stretching the silk taut at the corner so it lay perfectly flat, and the edges of the box were neatly trimmed with black fabric, pulled tight and fastened securely, Only then did he lift the black cloth pouch, slightly loosening the knot, bringing it close to the opening revealed by the stage curtain, supporting the bottom of the pouch as he shook it vigorously, as if driving the contents inside. Chang Dong saw clusters of tiny, deep green specks waver in and settle into the backstage area, a shimmering glow emerging behind the curtain, like flickering ghost flames. Small bites? Chang Dong’s heart raced; he kept staring at the curtain. Li Jinao took the clay sheng and began to play a low, rich tone, with a touch of weariness, and as the light behind the curtain shifted and layered, a continuous, majestic silhouette of a wall gradually formed—on the city rampart, a slender woman stood, her hands covering her face, trembling and nearly falling. Ye Liuxi whispered to him, close to his ear: “I’ll ask Liu to add a few more dishes and serve some wine—then, when he’s drunk, I’ll extract the information from him.” Chang Dong nodded. Ye Liuxi gestured to Ding Liu, waiting for her to come close, then leaned in to speak to her—his gaze suddenly fell upon the The chicken had opened its eyes at some point, gazing at her.