TEG 6
Chapter 6 – Inside and Out
The dim courtyard echoed with the sound of copper bells, and the live comments immediately lit up with excitement.
【Oh ho! Speak of the devil and he appears! The little ghost is home!】
【666, it’s another pincer attack—this poor kid is like cream filling caught between two cookies!】
【Wait a sec, he's still holding the coin, maybe the little ghost won't notice him】
Jingle jingle jingle.
Zhou Xiangyue stood on high alert, clutching a copper coin tightly in his hand, frozen in place as he listened carefully to the bell's sound.
The sound seemed to be moving.
His gaze shifted toward the wall.
Along the wall, one by one, small bloody footprints slowly appeared, coming from afar and creeping closer.
Jingle jingle.
Moonlight lit up the bloody footprints trailing along the ground. The copper bells on the wall began to tremble one after another, as if an invisible figure was slowly walking by.
That figure didn’t seem to notice Zhou Xiangyue, who held the coin in his hand.
The bloody footprints led from the courtyard entrance along the wall and slowly approached the east wing.
Plop. A drop of dark red liquid dripped onto the doorstep beneath the trembling bell.
Then the sound of the copper bell disappeared at the door.
Zhou Xiangyue looked toward the inside of the east wing.
Pitch black. It was like a gaping, yawning mouth of darkness.
The troupe master’s heavy footsteps sounded from afar, approaching steadily.
Thump, thump, thump.
Zhou Xiangyue took a deep breath and stepped into the east wing.
【Eh eh eh? Wait, he just went into the east wing!】
【???? I gotta ask— is he deaf, blind, or just plain stupid?】
【He only got lucky with the coin earlier and wasn’t noticed by the ghost. Now he’s running toward death like he wants it.】
The moment he stepped inside, darkness suddenly closed in around Zhou Xiangyue. He could barely see anything.
Even the faint moonlight from the courtyard behind him abruptly vanished.
It was as if he had crossed a forbidden threshold and entered a world completely cut off from the outside.
Only rapid breathing remained in the darkness.
Everything was so quiet it was terrifying—you could clearly hear the pounding of his heart inside his chest.
He cautiously took a step forward and suddenly felt something cold and soft brush against his lower leg. The fleeting sensation made his hair stand on end.
Just as he reflexively looked down, something in his peripheral vision suddenly caught his eye—a pitch-black figure standing right in front of him.
He instinctively stepped back.
The dark figure stood silently in place. The hem of its long robe nearly touched the ground, its head bowed low. The head's shape was disturbingly large and deformed.
As his eyes adjusted to the extreme darkness, Zhou Xiangyue’s vision slowly extended deeper into the room. Behind that first shadowy figure stood even more silhouettes—
All standing in silence, cloaked in darkness, their robes draping down. Dozens of grotesquely large heads faced the doorway in unison, their hollow gazes boring into him.
Zhou Xiangyue paused for only a moment before walking directly toward them.
Three steps… two… one…
He was getting closer and closer to the foremost figure.
The shadowy forms waited patiently. The one in front stirred slightly, as if extending a hand toward him—
【Even though I knew this was coming, the image is still terrifying】
【Holy crap, he just walked over like it’s nothing! So gutsy! I’m too nervous to breathe】
【Can’t he be like others and get a lamp or something? Stumbling around in the dark is not viewer-friendly!】
【LOL, that’s basically shouting to the troupe master, “I’m here! Come catch me!”】
【He’s basically already doing that. He probably won’t get away anyway】
【Calling for high-intensity warning mode!】
【Back up! Retreat!】
In the next instant, Zhou Xiangyue passed right through the figure in front of him.
Silky, cold fabric brushed his left shoulder like a chilly, soft hand. A faint breath brushed against him.
His slightly dilated pupils reflected the silent scene inside the room—rows of old opera costumes hung from high wooden beams, and grotesque wooden masks dangled from the collars.
This was the costume storage room.
The costumes for exorcism operas were different from ordinary theatrical garb. From masks to robes, they had a rough, savage, ancient aura. In the darkness, they looked like shadowy spirits—horrifyingly eerie.
As the first costume brushed against him, the rest began to sway ever so slightly.
The coarse fabric and wooden masks rubbed together, making soft, rustling sounds—like a chorus of shallow, ghostly breaths.
It was as if all these colorful costumes were being worn by the living, rising and falling gently with their breathing.
Zhou Xiangyue came to a halt.
Less than a meter in front of him, there lay a pair of small tiger-head embroidered shoes, knocked over and stained a dirty dark red with blood.
Creak—
A faint sound came from the courtyard gate.
The troupe master had stepped onto a rotten wooden board at the courtyard entrance.
Although the yard was filled with blades, even Zhou Xiangyue had to move carefully to avoid them. For the troupe master’s massive body, it would take longer—but not more than a minute or two.
【It’s over. There’s nowhere to run now】
【I’m gonna cry. Didn’t he see all those boxes in the next room? He just escaped the ghost, maybe he could avoid the troupe master too】
【Save it. The troupe master’s definitely going to tear through every box. Once he comes in, it’s a death trap】
Zhou Xiangyue bent down and picked up the bloodstained tiger-head shoes.
He gave a barely noticeable chuckle.
Under the dark red full moon, the courtyard was shrouded in suffocating crimson light. The blades sticking up looked like the fangs of a beast rising beside a bloody tongue.
The copper bells had gone silent again. The courtyard was deathly still.
The troupe master entered.
Zhou Xiangyue hid behind layers of opera costumes. One eye peered out through the gaps, watching outside.
From this angle, he saw a tall, burly figure walk to the center of the courtyard. Moving with surprising lightness for such a heavy body, the man tiptoed around the blades toward the west wing.
As he turned, the dark red moonlight illuminated the grotesque right side of his face. His right eye, visible from this side, was bloodshot and terrifying.
The figure suddenly stopped.
That bloodshot eye turned, locking gazes with Zhou Xiangyue in the darkness.
Zhou Xiangyue held his breath and didn’t move a muscle.
The troupe master’s murky eye lingered for a moment before slowly sweeping past him—
He was looking at the rows of costumes inside.
Zhou Xiangyue exhaled slowly.
He’d guessed right. The troupe master couldn’t possibly spot him from the relatively bright courtyard into the pitch-black costume room.
【Holy crap holy crap the system is messing with us—why are we seeing this from first person?!】
【And he's not even moving… help!】
【Switch the camera angle! Hurry!】
【Reminder from the front row: You’re allowed to breathe】
【Let me tell you a ghost story. I switched to the courtyard view and… even though you can’t see anyone inside, you can see the costumes swaying—AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!】
The next moment, the troupe master slowly grinned, revealing a mouthful of blackened yellow teeth.
He suddenly spun around and swung the wooden club in his hand down on the glinting blades.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Wood met metal with an ear-piercing screech. The blades, once upright, were knocked askew one by one, forming a straight path.
In almost no time, the troupe master had brutishly cleared a way to the east wing entrance—and stormed in.
Bang!
His heavy footfall hit the floor, shaking loose dust from the ceiling.
His massive body blocked the moonlight from the door. In a hoarse voice, he laughed menacingly.
“Little bastard… come out yourself and name the others who disobeyed me, and I’ll let you die with less pain.”
He stepped forward again.
“If I have to drag you out myself, I’ll shove my fingers into your eye sockets and scoop out your eyeballs… then crush your skull—”
As he spoke, his twisted grin swept across the rows of costumes.
Zhou Xiangyue didn’t move a muscle, curled up in place like he’d become part of the clothing itself.
The layers of costumes swayed lightly in front of his eyes, like silhouettes gently moving.
He could only see the troupe master’s murky right eye slowly scanning the room.
As it lowered to a certain point, the troupe master’s half-exposed mouth curled into a grin.
Beneath one of the costumes that nearly reached the floor, there were faint shadows of two feet.
“Little bastard,” he licked his lips, “clothes… don’t have feet.”
Before the words were even finished, he lunged forward and yanked aside several costumes.
The wide sleeves flared into the air, stirring the dust in the room.
But—
He didn’t see the boy who had stolen the shoes.
Moonlight streamed in from the window, illuminating only a pair of pale little feet in red embroidered shoes—
Toe to toe with his own.
The troupe master’s eyes suddenly widened.
Moonlight revealed the bloodshot whites of his eyes—
As if he had just seen the most horrifying thing in the world.
