Novellv Chapter 366 Theatrical Drums Invade the Ming Dynasty
Chapter 366 Theatrical Drums Invade the Ming Dynasty
Chapter 366 Theatrical Drums Invade the Ming Dynasty
Geng Jingzhong carried He Lang'er on his back, then went out and found several other boys. They gathered benches and bamboo poles from their homes and quickly made a simple sedan chair, carrying him hurriedly towards the clinic.
Despite being jostled on his shoulders, He Lang'er's forehead was still burning hot, his back was still hunched over, his head was tilted back so far it almost broke, his teeth were clenched so tightly they were making a grinding sound, and saliva kept seeping from the corners of his mouth.
The group trudged along the bumpy dirt road of Tanwei Street and arrived at Huichuntang in less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn. The old doctor, upon seeing these street ruffians gathered together, merely rolled his eyes, lowered his head to look at his medical books, and stroked his beard in silence.
However, when Geng Jingzhong pulled out a five-tael silver ingot and slapped it on the ebony cabinet, the young apprentice's eyes widened, and the old doctor's face twitched as he hurriedly forced a look of surprise, as if waking from a dream.
The four boys followed behind, and seeing how generous and righteous Geng Jingzhong was, their respect for him deepened, and they dared not mention their previous dissatisfaction with the halved silver amount again.
"Young man, bring him over here."
The old doctor pointed to the bamboo couch beside him, then gently placed three withered fingers on He Lang'er's burning wrist. He examined him with his eyes closed for a while, then opened He Lang'er's eyelids to look at him before reaching out to knead his stiff, iron-like back, as if he had encountered an extremely difficult situation.
"Opposition of the bowstring, this is a convulsive disorder."
He pointed at He Lang'er's appearance and said, word by word, "His back is bent backward like a bow, and his whole body is stiff and unyielding. This is exactly the severe case of spasm described in the *Synopsis of Prescriptions of the Golden Chamber* as 'unable to lie on a mat, with his back bent backward,' undoubtedly a rigid spasm. Furthermore, according to the *Yellow Emperor's Inner Classic*, 'All spasms and stiff necks belong to dampness,' and 'All sudden rigidity belongs to wind.' This boy has no sweat on his body but is bent backward and has a fever; it is indeed strange and dangerous..."
The old doctor stroked his goatee and spoke in classical Chinese with some difficulty, seemingly trying to project an air of profound mystery. "In my decades of medical practice, I have only seen this kind of symptom no more than three times."
"May I ask, sir, is there a cure?"
Geng Jingzhong also knew that many of these doctors were those who had failed the imperial examinations and who liked to exaggerate the symptoms in order to show off their medical skills, so he continued to ask questions.
"Disaster."
The old doctor shook his head. "If this illness is not relieved by sweating or purging, it will inevitably reverse and attack the heart within three days, and even a god could not save it."
After saying this, the old doctor picked up his pen, wrote out a prescription, and handed it to the young apprentice beside him.
"I will first prescribe a dose of 'Gualou Guizhi Tang' (Trichosanthes and Cinnamon Twig Decoction), adding three qian each of scorpion, centipede, uncaria, and antelope horn to calm wind, stop spasms, clear heat, and detoxify. I will then use a three-edged needle to prick the Renzhong (GV26), Baihui (GV20), and Yongquan (KI1) acupoints to release the heat and toxins—but remember, this illness is aggravated by wind, cold, and disturbance. When you return home, remember to keep the doors and windows tightly closed, and no one else should enter."
Geng Jingzhong took the prescription, glanced at it, and then tossed five taels of silver into the arms of the medicine boy.
"The money for the medicine and the consultation fee are all here. If it's not enough, I'll make up the difference later."
The young apprentice weighed the silver in his hand, his eyes widening in amazement. He looked up at Geng Jingzhong, then at the several fierce-looking young men in short clothes beside him, and quickly said, "Don't worry, I'll get you the best medicine right away."
The four boys beside him sighed inwardly. Five taels of silver was an amount that Old Man Zeng couldn't even scrape together by selling his daughter, yet Geng Jingzhong took it out without batting an eye, just to save He Lang'er, a child with no relatives.
Carrying the medicinal herbs out of Huichuntang, Geng Jingzhong was still frowning. He recalled He Lang'er's ramblings in his dream last night, the strange "Genbei Method" in Longjiang Thatched Cottage, and the countless soft creatures that the shaman spat out of the Shuiliu Temple. He felt that things were not so simple.
After the medicine was decocted, the boys helped He Lang'er force-feed it, but he didn't seem to improve at all. Instead, his face became even paler, and even his originally dark skin couldn't hide it.
"Big brother, shall we go back?" a boy asked in a low voice.
Geng Jingzhong looked at the patient and suddenly said, "Since the doctor said this disease is almost certainly fatal, medicine alone may not be enough. Let's go to the Temple of the Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices and see if there are any other methods."
Upon hearing this, no one objected. They lifted the simple sedan chair and followed Geng Jingzhong all the way to the Temple of the Minister of Longevity.
It was noon, and the open space in front of the temple was mostly deserted, with only a few worshippers burning incense and praying. The blind temple keeper was sitting on the temple threshold, basking in the sun and idly weaving straw sandals. Hearing footsteps, he looked up, his murky one eye scanning the crowd before finally settling on He Lang'er.
"Is he... possessed by an evil spirit?"
The blind temple keeper got straight to the point, noticing that He Lang'er's expression was somewhat unnatural.
Geng Jingzhong cupped his hands and said, "We just came back from the clinic. The doctor said it was just a spasm, but I still feel uneasy about it."
The temple keeper stretched out his withered hand and touched He Lang'er's back as well. However, as soon as he touched He Lang'er's spine, the boy convulsed violently and let out an unintelligible roar. The old temple keeper's face changed instantly, and he quickly withdrew his hand and shook his head repeatedly.
"No, no, I can't save him."
Geng Jingzhong took out a silver ingot and slapped it in front of the blind temple keeper. The man's droopy eyelids twitched, and after hesitating for a long time, he said, "Come in with me."
Deep inside the side hall is a small hut with a blue cloth curtain, which is the residence of the blind temple keeper. There has been a saying among the people since ancient times that "blind people can communicate with gods." The essence of this saying is that they "abandon the external to seek the internal and use the blind to dispel confusion." They have no taboos about living among gods and Buddhas. Therefore, he usually treats this temple as his home and never married until he grew old.
As the door creaked open, it was filled with jars and miscellaneous items, so crowded that there was no room to stand. The boys had to retreat outside, leaving only the temple keeper, Geng Jingzhong, and the unconscious He Lang'er.
Geng Jingzhong looked at the layers of altars. The lower ones closest to him were warriors in purple crowns and silver armor, a god-king with a snake-like body wrapped around his arm, and a female immortal with a spiral-shaped hair bun. The middle layer had guardians in black robes holding maces, women in bright red palace dresses, and attendants with stern eyes. These statues were much smaller than ordinary sculptures, and their clothes and hair were exceptionally lifelike. The dense array of statues was dazzling. Geng Jingzhong felt that he had only ever seen such a display in the ancestral halls and memorial tablets of wealthy families.
Further away, high up, were three statues of deities with relatively traditional forms but completely unrelated to each other. In the center was a golden-robed deity with a crown adorned with tassels and a jade tablet across his chest, his expression majestic. To his left was a Buddha wearing an earth-yellow robe and holding a lotus flower, with traces of Buddhist beads around his neck. To his right was a Bodhisattva in white robes and a pure vase in his hand, with a willow branch inserted in the vase.
The temple keeper gritted his teeth and said, "I don't think this is a malevolent spirit or a vengeful ghost, nor is it a vengeful spirit from within the family. It seems more like a soul possessed by evil spirits, pushing outwards from the spine. I'll use the method taught by the master. Let me perform the ritual to subdue the demon..."
After saying this, he set up a simple altar on the spot, silently recited prayers, repeatedly kowtowed to the holy assembly, took a basin of water and sprinkled it everywhere, and burned a talisman in front of the altar.
Then he widened his remaining eyes and respectfully took the woman in the bright red palace dress off the altar. Behind her, a strand of silk thread and a wooden handle were untied, revealing a lifelike wooden puppet!
The temple keeper placed the puppet on the altar on the first floor, then washed his hands, burned incense, and pasted three yellow talismans on the edge of the altar. He picked up a copper bell and shook it gently, and the crisp sound immediately rang out. Then, his fingers flew and moved, lifting the puppet's strings, and the puppet stepped out onto the narrow offering table.
The singing style was melodious and carried a Fujian accent. The lyrics were incomprehensible to Geng Jingzhong, but the demeanor was solemn and solemn, as if it were a story about slaying demons and monsters.
The puppet had no opponent, but its movements were incredibly fierce, as if it were fighting unseen demons and evil spirits. At a certain point, the master continued chanting incantations, picked up a talisman, and lit it on the candle flame. The rising blue flame, along with the ashes, drifted towards the altar.
Just then, the rhythm of his bell-ringing suddenly quickened, and his singing became shrill, seemingly imitating the accent of a woman cursing. The red-robed woman's puppet swung its sword and slashed fiercely into the void. The silk threads in the temple keeper's hand immediately became taut. The puppet's movements were exceptionally sharp, as if it were truly engaged in a fierce battle, moving around the elusive and cunning creature.
Facing the statues and puppets of gods who were intently looking down into the room, the rituals of the ceremony and the opera were intertwined. The chanting, singing and bell ringing were mixed together. The candlelight flickered on and off due to the airflow. The shadows of the statues also twisted and swayed on the wall. Geng Jingzhong felt extremely eerie, as if there were really demons and evil spirits trapped in this room, ready to burst out at any moment.
At that moment, He Lang'er, who had been unconscious in the corner, suddenly stirred. His head, which had been hanging down, gradually rose and turned slightly towards the altar. He murmured to himself, his voice barely audible: "The water is rising... It's cold..."
The temple keeper paused for a moment, then quickly resumed pulling the strings. The red-robed woman puppet raised her sword to stab, charging straight at something that was rolling and coiling. He Lang'er's voice suddenly rose: "Looking at it in the water... wrapped around the neck..."
Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly began to convulse, his body arching backward in a bizarre arc, foaming at the mouth, his eyes rolling back, his limbs flailing uncontrollably, knocking over the offering table at his feet. Several porcelain bowls shattered on the ground, and the temple keeper was so frightened that his hand trembled, causing the puppet's strings to become tangled and fall straight to the ground, its head tilting to one side.
The boys outside rushed in upon hearing the commotion and barely managed to subdue the crazed He Lang'er. The blind temple keeper stood aside, his face pale, shaking his head and sighing.
"Unfortunately... my meager skills are no match for it..."
"What should we do then?" a boy asked urgently.
The temple keeper was silent for a moment, then said, “You can go to the temple of the Dharma Lord and find the Grand Master. That Dharma Lord is the Thunder Censor of the Capital Demon Suppression Bureau, who inspects the customs of the world and promotes and demotes officials. He is famous throughout the world for his great magical power. If five battalions of soldiers are sent to slay demons and eliminate evil, there may still be a glimmer of hope.”
Thank you.
Geng Jingzhong bowed again and, together with He Lang'er and the boys, headed towards the Fazhugong Temple in the direction indicated by the old temple keeper.
………………
Jiang Wen had been lying in wait at the Jingnan Prince's Mansion for two days and had finally figured out the whole scheme.
To infiltrate such a vast and crowded royal palace, the most important thing was to hide one's tracks. Most of the time, one would conceal oneself in storerooms or empty rooms until nightfall, when one would change one's appearance and blend into the densely populated areas to eavesdrop on the messages they were spreading.
After Geng Jimao moved his fiefdom from Guangzhou to Fuzhou, he enclosed a large area of land in the southeast of Fuzhou as his royal residence. The high-walled courtyard where he handled political affairs was called Huichun Garden, while the rear residence was called South Park. A long, winding lake was dug there, with a wide water surface and connected by canals and waterways. It was also called the Prince's Water Pavilion.
The waterside pavilion of the Prince's Mansion connects to a tributary of the Min River, and the residents are all servants who manage boats, make purchases, and do laundry for the inner quarters. However, unsettling news first spread among these people.
Jiang Wen learned from the boatmen that recently they often saw a disheveled woman in white standing on the side of the boat, her hair hanging into the water, crying sobbing towards the river. When they got close, the woman would suddenly turn around, her face devoid of features, only a deathly pale one, and then sink into the river with a "plop," without even making a splash.
The Geng family guards on night watch had a rumor that they often heard fighting sounds underwater in the middle of the night. The muffled sounds were like bones hitting wood, and there was also the sound of iron chains dragging across the planks of a boat, which made people's scalps tingle. However, when they searched the entire dock with torches, they only found a few lotus leaves floating on the water.
The fear brought by the nameless rumors, along with the damp mist of the Minjiang River, quickly spread over the waterside pavilion area, threatening to flood the inner courtyard of the Prince's Mansion at any moment.
The maids were afraid to go to the well at night to fetch water, saying that they heard a woman crying in the well. The guards who used to patrol in pairs were now patrolled in groups of five, and they were all carrying bows and arrows and knives. Everyone was on edge, but Zhou Shi, who rarely went out, still did not show up.
The next day, the steward said that the mansion would send an opera troupe to perform for three days to suppress the evil spirits in the mansion. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that they would be performing auspicious operas such as "Heavenly Official Bestows Blessings" and "Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea". After all, Geng Jimao brought more than ten opera troupes with him when he moved to Fuzhou. They would usually perform Siping Opera, Huagu Opera, and rod puppet shows in the mansion. At the very least, it would be Zhong Kui catching ghosts.
To everyone's surprise, when the opera started the next day, the actors from the manor, whom they hadn't seen for a long time, all looked haggard and listless. Black curtains were hung around the stage, and only three tung oil lamps were lit on the stage, their light as dim as will-o'-the-wisps on a grave.
The first act performed at the opening ceremony was called "Night Terrace Dream".
The first one to appear was a wandering spirit, dressed in a tattered white shirt, his hair disheveled like withered grass. He walked and cried, saying that he was a salt merchant in his previous life. He only knew how to save money and refused to repair bridges and roads or believe in God. After death, his soul drifted on the road to the underworld, unable to enter the cycle of reincarnation, and could only suffer from wind and rain day and night.
Then a zombie came up, wearing a faded blue satin official robe, his face as pale as paper, walking with a hopping gait, his joints making a "creaking" sound. He said that he was a county magistrate in his previous life, who was corrupt and abused the people. After he died, he became a zombie and was buried in a mass grave, where he was eaten by insects day and night.
The wandering spirit pointed at the zombie and cried out, "You enjoyed wealth and glory in your life, but committed countless sins, causing me, a lonely soul, to wander at the gates of hell as well!"
The zombie sneered and pulled a gleaming silver ingot from his sleeve: "What do you know? The underworld is just like the mortal world. Money makes the world go round. I still have a thousand taels of gold I saved up in my previous life. Use it to bribe the judges and ghost soldiers, and maybe I can be reincarnated into a better life."
The wandering spirit shook its head and retreated: "There is no business on the road to the underworld, and the laws of the netherworld show no mercy. How can gold and silver redeem the sins you committed in your previous life?"
As soon as he finished speaking, all the tung oil lamps on the stage suddenly went out, and the audience erupted in screams.
In the darkness, a large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed the zombie. Then a shrill scream was heard, and a lamp flickered on, its color tinged with phosphorescent green, like the shadow of the underworld.
A monster, completely black with jagged fangs—a sight the servants had never seen before—leaked out, wielding an iron chain. It seized the wandering spirit by the neck and desperately dragged him off the stage. The spirit struggled violently, his hands scratching marks on the stage floor, his actions far more dramatic than theatrical. He disregarded the nuances of his lines, screaming with heart-wrenching agony, "Yi Shu, save me! Yi Shu, save me!"
The ghost ignored him completely, laughing wildly and dancing on the spot, its voice as shrill as a broken gong: "You indulged in the seven sins in your life, and now you repent, but it's too late!"
With that, he yanked the iron chain, and the wandering soul's cries stopped abruptly, as if it had been completely dragged into the black curtain and disappeared, leaving only a dark silhouette.