Temple of the Spiritual Official burst onto the scene with soaring reviews. In this era, a popular opera was just like a hit TV series in later generations.

In just one night, discussions about Ying Xiaonong's appearance filled the streets and alleys. He was hailed as the "Living Spiritual Official," and people enthusiastically discussed the scene of the Spiritual Official descending with thunder and fire.

Ying Xiaonong's name, along with the title "Living Spiritual Official," once again resounded through Jingcheng.

Although Xu Xinyue's stinginess meant the painted scenery and mechanisms weren't that complex, and the style wasn't realistic, the people of Huaxia undoubtedly accepted it well.

Besides, the mechanisms were used with a good sense of pacing, with proper setup and buildup. In their eyes, it seemed even more thrilling than the version that was just chaotic throughout!

It was simple, yes, but it immediately drew the audience into the play.

Those who were less articulate could only repeatedly exclaim, "Truly a Living Spiritual Official! So interesting, so thrilling!"

As for the articulate ones, that would be the men of letters.

Xu Xinyue gleefully bought all the newspapers and periodicals that praised them and laid them out one by one.

Critics like Zhang Dinghu used to write reviews mostly to praise the actors, focusing on the performers themselves—their voice, singing style, physique, and looks—and sometimes touching upon the plot. Mentions of stage design, let alone the overall choreography of the opera, were few and far between.

But this time, unprecedentedly, almost every review, after praising Ying Xiaonong, dedicated several large paragraphs to describing the stage design of Temple of the Spiritual Official.

The critics were all literati, men who appreciated the traditional aesthetics of Huaxia. This stage design was like poetry and calligraphy, like a Xieyi-style painting. Who doesn't love a bit of elegance?

Luantan Spring and Autumn: [This kind of set design truly draws from the old and embraces the new. With Western-style scenery running rampant, do people still remember that in our Huaxia opera, imitation of form is inferior, while capturing the spirit is superior! The mechanisms are also novel, and more commendably, they fit the plot, not just for the sake of having mechanisms. Marvelous.]

Actor's Song: [I don't know much about mechanisms and set design, but this Temple of the Spiritual Official, unlike the chaotic first version, shows a coherent artistic charm, with substance within simplicity, revealing the grand through the small. Since the Hanxi Troupe performs both Peking and Kunqu opera, if they were to adapt this into a Kunqu performance in the future, it would surely be even more elegant.]

Theater World: [I heard the owner of the Changle Theater is quite stingy. I can't help but wonder if that's why the set design is so minimalist. However, it did force out the art of conquering complexity with simplicity.]

Myriad Aspects of Peking Opera: [A certain colleague worried that this might go against the current trend and be too different from the new-style plays. I, however, feel this is exactly how it should be, promoting the classical beauty of our Huaxia! I see the stage as a canvas where song, dance, poetry, and painting merge, brimming with spiritual energy.]

There were some doubts, of course. After all, traditional opera itself was being criticized by some for not being progressive enough, but this was nothing to worry about.

More people, however, felt that the success of this set design was exhilarating. Who said classical aesthetics were less appealing than the Western style of painting? This time, it truly was a great relief.

The general public who hadn't seen the play also became intensely curious.

Currently, the Shanghai style was dominant in stage mechanisms. Theaters everywhere imitated it, using Western-style painted scenery. Was this play truly as some theater magazines claimed—honoring tradition while innovating, vastly different from the foreign style, and presenting an effect like the founding of a new school?

Opera actors were the stars of this era, and various theater magazines had many opera fan readers.

Zhang Dinghu's high praise for Temple of the Spiritual Official, especially his description of the stage art, piqued the curiosity of many young women who were originally not interested in painted-face roles, and they flocked to see it.

By this time, theater owners and actors already understood the concept that for a play to be a box office hit, it had to appeal to the female audience to become a massive success. When girls went to the opera, they liked to go with a few friends or bring their families.

The box office at the Changle Theater went from deserted to explosive in an instant. Three days' worth of tickets were completely sold out.

Xu Xinyue brought in many benches overnight. Originally, there were only three types of seating, but he frantically added more, creating five or six types. He even sold the seats behind the pillars...

The owner of that silk shop even came to offer his congratulations.

Although it was just the beginning, no one was a fool. It was clear that, barring any accidents, the Changle Theater wouldn't be closing down anytime soon. His attitude did a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, and he became incredibly warm with Xu Xinyue.

"We're all neighbors here; this uncle watched you grow up. To see the business your father left you flourishing again, this uncle is also happy! I was concerned about your mother's illness before, but now everything's fine."

Xu Xinyue also (pretended to) say warmly, "Thank you for your concern, Uncle. I'll also have to trouble you to refuse Boss Liang's kind offer for me. I don't think I'll be selling this place anymore."

"Of course, of course. I was just thinking, in a couple of days, I'll tell Boss Liang and the others to look for another place." The silk shop owner asked curiously, "If you don't mind my asking, where did you hire your new set designer from?"

Anyone with half a brain could figure it out: the key to the Changle Theater's turnaround had to be the set designer who revised the production for them!

Although Ying Xiaonong's skills were excellent, without this person's design to support him, he could never have achieved such an effect. The failure of the previous, identical version of Temple of the Spiritual Official was the best proof.

It's just... when did such a person appear in Jingcheng?

Xu Xinyue wasn't seen running around looking for someone. Could he have secretly hired someone from Hushang?

But with how fast news traveled these days and how sharp businessmen's instincts were, if such a novel and mature style had appeared in Hushang, there's no reason Jingcheng wouldn't have heard a whisper of it.

How strange. It was as if he had just sprouted from the ground.

Xu Xinyue wasn't an idiot. He had only been making money for a few days! How could he possibly tell them!

......

"One dollar, two dollars, three dollars..." Xu Xinyue was counting the money. The tickets for the provisionally scheduled three-day run were all sold out, and he was being urged to extend it. Ji Shuangyu's task was considered to have fulfilled the contract ahead of schedule, so it was time to get paid.

The best set designers in Hushang could earn several hundred yuan a month.

Xu Xinyue had promised to give Ji Shuangyu thirty percent. He meticulously calculated on his abacus for a long time, considering factors like the theater's income, Ji Shuangyu's workload, and the average income of a set designer. In the end, he decided to give Ji Shuangyu twenty-two dollars, three jiao, and twenty copper coins.

Ji Shuangyu just stared at Xu Xinyue's slow-moving manner, which seemed to say, 'No matter what, it's always good to let the money stay in my hands a little longer,' and stopped feeling anxious.

Seeing the booming box office, he had actually breathed a sigh of relief in his heart. With this confidence, he was no longer in a hurry. He even leisurely tempted Xu Xinyue, "Boss, I actually think there are a few more areas in our play that could be improved. If we fix them, we might be able to perform for a few more days."

"Oh?" Xu Xinyue was indeed interested. "What other set designs need to be changed?"

Ji Shuangyu said with a smile, "Not the set design. I'm talking about the performance and the plot."

Performance, plot? Xu Xinyue's mind turned, and he glanced sideways at Ji Shuangyu. "You're still thinking about being a... director?"

Ji Shuangyu had watched the full play for a few more days and was already itching to try his hand. He tentatively asked, "What do you think?"

Xu Xinyue hesitated. On one hand, there was the money, the box office; on the other, there were the unwritten rules of the opera world...

"Let me think about it." Even the notorious miser was hesitating, which showed that he too was afraid of being criticized.

But it was obvious he was tempted.

In a good mood, Ji Shuangyu pressed down on Xu Xinyue's hand. "Boss, take your time counting. Just give it to me after the show. I'm going to put on my makeup."

Xu Xinyue said blankly, "You're still going to play the hanging ghost?"

He had thought that after getting this pay, Ji Shuangyu would stop being an extra. After all, being an extra only paid a few copper coins, and playing a hanging ghost, in particular, was very unlucky. He didn't expect him to stay true to his original aspiration!

Ji Shuangyu said, "What's wrong with earning an extra share of your money? The way you hand out money is quite funny."

Xu Xinyue: "........."

He was joking. The main reason was actually that he didn't know Xu Xinyue would be paying him today. He had already agreed with Jiang Sanjin to play the hanging ghost for all the scheduled performances.

If he were to quit now, Uncle Jiang would have to find a new extra at the last minute. Ji Shuangyu didn't want to cause trouble for others, especially someone who had helped him.

There were many taboos in acting at this time, especially in plays about ghosts and gods.

The rule was that once an actor put on the makeup and costume, they were equivalent to that ghost or god. So, playing a hanging ghost was considered underworld business; you couldn't see sunlight or perform outdoors.

Once the long tongue of the hanging ghost was painted on, you could not speak casually. Until the performance was over, actors playing ferocious roles like the "Ghost King" or "hanging ghost" couldn't just leave. You had to go to a graveyard or a river to remove your makeup, which symbolized your return to the world of the living.

Otherwise, you'd be covered in bad luck. Not only would you suffer misfortune yourself, but others who ran into you would also be disgusted, because encountering a "hanging ghost" signified disaster.

This was also why Ji Shuangyu had chosen to play the hanging ghost back then; the pay was a little more than for other extras... For such inauspicious roles, the troupe had to pay extra 'bonus money'.

If not for someone as poor as him, no one would be willing to play a hanging ghost.

Since Ji Shuangyu was the only hanging ghost in the entire play, after the performance, amidst everyone's avoidance, Xu Xinyue placed his pay on the ground and told Ji Shuangyu to pick it up himself.

And it had to be said, the new tongue prop Ji Shuangyu had made looked much more real than a painted one. It was stuck under his lip, which made it look exceptionally unlucky...

Ji Shuangyu: "..."

Ying Xiaonong also watched him from a distance. "After this run is over, let's go out to eat!"

Many actors would go for a big meal after a show. Since coming here, Ji Shuangyu had long heard of several famous restaurants in Jingcheng but never had the money to experience them. Now that he finally had a little money, they wouldn't welcome a hanging ghost.

"Then I'm off to remove my makeup," Ji Shuangyu waved regretfully.

Normally, going to the river to remove makeup was closer, but it was the dead of winter and the river was frozen. Under everyone's watchful eyes, Ji Shuangyu had no choice but to head in the direction of the graveyard...

The moment he was out of everyone's sight, Ji Shuangyu took a turn.

He wasn't going to the graveyard!!

What a joke. The graveyard was in the suburbs. In this freezing cold weather, he had just gotten paid and wasn't going to buy a cotton-padded coat, so why would he go to a graveyard to remove his makeup!

Ji Shuangyu was an atheist. Even after transmigrating, he only thought of possibilities like parallel universes. He would respect the industry's rules on the surface, but when no one was watching, there was no need to make things difficult for himself.

For the previous performance, Ji Shuangyu had also secretly found a place to remove his makeup.

He very skillfully put on his hat and crept along a small path to avoid being seen.

......

Small Drum Alley.

A crescent moon hung in the vast sky. There were no street lamps, only a few will-o'-the-wisp-like lanterns hanging far down the street, making it impossible to see any figures. A moment later, even these specks of light vanished into the distance.

A four-door sedan was parked at the mouth of the alley. The driver quickly got out and opened the rear door. "Boss... ah, General Manager." He glanced at the person, his expression tense, clearly very afraid of him.

In the back seat was a young man with short hair, who said casually, "It's fine if you're used to calling me Boss."

The man's features were deep-set and handsome. He wore a slate-blue, subtly patterned Huaxia-style long robe underneath, but over it was a deep black, Western-style greatcoat, tailored to fit, making him look even more tall and distinguished. He didn't comb his hair with pomade or gel like many men of the time; his hair fell casually across his forehead, revealing a bit of his personality.

The man was gentle and handsome, and his tone was casual and kind, yet the driver shrank back.

The man said to the person in the passenger seat, "I'm going to grab someone. Have Driver Hu take you to the bookstore first. Notify the editorial office to be ready to print at a moment's notice." He gave a cold laugh and flexed his wrist. "Today, I'll watch over him personally. Even if he doesn't sleep, he's going to squeeze out two thousand characters for me."

The man in the passenger seat nodded quickly. After rummaging around and finding no flashlight, he said, "Yes, sir. Please take a paper lantern. It seems to be dark inside."

"I wouldn't dare!" the driver, on his first day, said nervously. "My aunt lives nearby. Small Drum Alley is very eerie. It's not customary to carry lanterns at night here. Many people who collect old things live here. Old objects can easily be attached to the souls of their deceased former owners, and there are many stories about hauntings. And look, there's a big pagoda tree in the alley. Ghosts are drawn to pagoda trees. It's an old tree, over a hundred years old, very yin. It'll blow out people's lanterns!"

The man in the passenger seat chuckled. "Driver Hu, you're such a big man, I didn't realize you were afraid of such things."

The driver blushed, remembering that his new boss was the head of a bookstore that compiled many books on science and technology. Especially since the boss had attended a Western-style school, his way of thinking was probably very different from theirs.

The subordinate in the passenger seat asked, "General Manager, should we accompany you first?"

As expected, the boss sneered, picked up the paper lantern, and got out of the car with a flourish. With a long stride, he walked into the alley alone, leaving behind only one sentence: "Who do you take me for?"

Driver Hu was a little regretful. He would have to be more careful in the future not to say such unwelcome things. This new boss's temper was notoriously bad.

This young and dapper gentleman was Zhou Siyin, the general manager of Kunlun Bookstore, one of the three largest publishing houses in Huaxia today.

Despite the rumors that portrayed Zhou Siyin as a fearless and reckless troublemaker who acted eccentrically and seemed audacious, he was in fact swift and decisive without lacking meticulousness. Driver Hu had seen this clearly over the past few days. At the bookstore, everyone respected him; his word was law.

Kunlun Bookstore had been reorganized by Zhou Siyin and was now divided into three departments: editorial, printing, and business. He had driven to Small Drum Alley so late today precisely because the editorial department had a difficult problem, and he had to handle it personally.

One of Huaxia's current bestselling authors, "Shu Wangyan," was a monster of procrastination. To avoid manuscript chasers, he had even published his own obituary three times, faking his death...

This time, Mr. Wangyan had again claimed to be critically ill and had gone into hiding. The people from the editorial office couldn't find him and were on the verge of tears. They went to Zhou Siyin, who used his family connections to find Shu Wangyan's whereabouts at the police station. And so he was here to catch... no, to invite him.

For Zhou Siyin to come personally showed great sincerity.

Zhou Siyin walked into the long, dark alley carrying the paper lantern. This damned place seemed to swallow all light and sound. Only the 'tap, tap' of his leather shoes echoed in the narrow space.

No wonder Driver Hu had felt the need to give a warning.

But seeing the scene, Zhou Siyin just sneered.

Driver Hu, overthinking it.

How could he possibly be afraid of this damned place?

...He was carrying a safety talisman consecrated at the Goddess Temple on Miaogan Mountain!

If Driver Hu could see Zhou Siyin's face right now, he would discover that although his boss's expression was calm, his fingers were tightly clutching the safety talisman in his pocket, and his entire body was as taut as a drawn heavy bow.

Rustle, rustle.

Was that a sound up ahead?

Zhou Siyin nearly jumped as if someone had stepped on his tail. 'Damn, damn, damn this hellhole!! I should have made the driver come with me!!'

After forcing himself to calm down, he focused his gaze and saw a person standing at the corner with their back to him. They had a head of white hair, and most of their body was hidden in the darkness. The moonlight could only dimly illuminate one side of their figure.

A false alarm. Was it an old man...

Why wasn't he making any sound? What was he doing just standing there?

But at least it was a living person. Zhou Siyin touched his safety talisman again and squeezed a sentence out of his tight throat: "Old sir, do you need any help?"

"Hmm?!" The person in the corner shot up and turned around, revealing a deathly pale face. His pupils were light-colored, like a vast, misty haze. He had a head of white hair, but his skin was full and youthful, lending his stunning features a ghastly, eerie aura, a complexion not of this world.

The moonlight shifted, revealing a long, red tongue lolling out of his mouth, which seemed to still be dripping with blood...

Just then, the paper lantern in Zhou Siyin's hand flickered a few times and went out, as if someone had blown it out.

That face, half-ethereal and half-eerie, flickered with the flame before being plunged into darkness, yet it remained seared into his pupils, impossible to erase.

A ghost. A beautiful, man-eating ghost.

Zhou Siyin held on for three seconds...

He didn't make it.

He fell stiffly to the ground and fainted.