noffsinger Chapter 56 Puppet Show at the End of the World
Chapter 56 Puppet Show at the End of the World
Life has finally returned to normal.
Before we knew it, it was Laba Festival.
As the old saying goes, once the Laba Festival is over, the New Year is just around the corner.
As the year draws to a close, the entire Qiantang County is gradually becoming busy and festive.
In the streets and alleys, there were servants hanging lanterns, relatives and friends visiting each other, and travelers rushing home.
Song Quyou lived alone. For him, celebrating the New Year meant putting up some Spring Festival couplets and having a decent meal. That was all he did.
This is how he lived after his parents passed away when he was young.
It wasn't until I went up the mountain to become an apprentice and had senior brothers and sisters that the New Year celebrations became more lively with more people around.
Song Quyou had originally planned that this year, his senior sister would return home for the Spring Festival, and he would simply have a New Year's Eve dinner with Yun Que and Miss Jing in the courtyard, which would be enough to celebrate the holiday.
But to everyone's surprise, her senior sister didn't plan to go home for the New Year and instead stayed with her.
There was also Miss Jing, who was reluctant to go out all day. On Laba Festival, she and her senior sister Su Tang had made a plan to go to eight temples to burn incense, avoid disaster, and pray for peace and safety in the coming year.
The custom of burning incense at eight temples is a local tradition in Qiantang on the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, a way to avoid disaster and pray for peace. Some of the more knowledgeable elders in the area know a little-known reason for this custom—to evade debts. Many business people in Qiantang often used burning incense to avoid creditors, hence the old custom of visiting multiple temples to burn incense.
Let's not gossip.
When the idea of going to burn incense came up, Song Quyou, who was always easygoing, naturally went along.
Along the way, we circled around the city of Qiantang, visiting temples on all eight mountains in all directions, such as Chenghuang Temple, Lingxiang Temple, and Wuyi Temple, just to burn a stick of incense.
Finally, they arrived at the last temple, Lunzhuan Temple. Senior Sister Su Tang and Miss Jing entered the temple excitedly, as if they had been injected with chicken blood.
Exhausted, Song Quyou stood at the temple gate, watching the crowds of incense burners come and go. The wind carrying the scent of incense in the twelfth lunar month made him cough and tear up.
Song Quyou quickly hid and saw a group of children gathered around a stall by the roadside, with the sounds of gongs and drums coming from inside.
Curious, he went over to take a look and found it was a puppet show.
The puppet show stage was no bigger than a small square meter. The painted backdrop depicted layers of mountains, and a white cloud-shrouded panel hung from the top, with a small black dragon flying about, appearing and disappearing in the clouds.
A small Taoist puppet, about the size of a palm, holding a peach wood sword, travels over mountains and valleys to a bustling town by the sea.
The town was near the sea, a bustling commercial center where people lived in peace and contentment.
The Taoist priest entered the city and used his skills to draw talismans to cure diseases, exorcise evil spirits, punish evil and promote good, and maintain the balance between humans and demons in the city.
clang!
Suddenly, the situation on the stage changed dramatically. The small black dragon transformed into a cloud of black mist, swooping down from the clouds and crashing into the town, sweeping away countless children.
"I am the newly appointed Dragon Lord of Jiangkou. This attack on the city is to teach you lowly people who do not know how to respect and worship the gods a lesson and know the consequences of neglecting the gods. From now on, you will be guaranteed good weather and abundant harvests by offering a pair of young boys and girls every year. Otherwise, you will not get a single drop of rain and will suffer from the torment of the sea flooding every day."
On the stage, the black mist swirled and did not dissipate, and the dragon's roar was deep and awe-inspiring. The children below the stage held their breath and gripped the candied hawthorns and coins in their hands tightly.
His eyes gleamed, his heart filled with resentment, and he looked at the evil dragon with rage.
Seeing the evil dragon devour people, the puppet Taoist showed no fear. He flicked his peach wood sword, revealing a cinnabar talisman at the tip, and chanted, "Heaven and earth possess righteous energy; how dare demons run rampant? You, a wicked dragon, do not think of bringing rain and clouds to benefit the people, but instead harm living beings and demand blood. Today, I will show you the power of the sword in my hand!"
The sound of gongs and drums suddenly became more rapid, and a chorus of "clang clang clang clang" resounded.
The Taoist puppet leaped into the air, its peach wood sword flashing in an arc as it clashed with the black mist.
Black mist churned on the stage, and the little dragon dodged left and right in the clouds, locked in a fierce battle with the Taoist's sword light.
The children held their breath, their little fists clenched tightly.
But the beast is a beast after all, extremely cunning, and actually used the kidnapped boys and girls as hostages, forcing the puppet Taoist priest to neither stab nor cut.
They were restrained and even took several lashes from the dragon's tail.
The Taoist priest had blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and was at a loss for what to do.
The children watching from below, completely absorbed, stamped their feet in frustration and shouted in unison, "You filthy evil dragon, you have no sportsmanship!"
The helpless puppet Taoist priest was beaten by the evil dragon until his hair was disheveled, his blood-stained Taoist robe was long gone, and the sword in his hand was broken.
"Taoist priest, quickly attack it!"
Song Quyou couldn't help but smile, and took another half step forward to sit behind the child, and shouted along with him.
But the puppet Taoist priest did not display any great power despite the children's encouragement; he was still tightly restrained by the infants who were constantly crying and using him as a shield beside the evil dragon.
The helpless puppet Taoist priest was ultimately defeated and fell into the deep mountains and forests.
The wooden Taoist puppet on the stage fell heavily and disappeared behind the mountain forest scenery, and the sound of gongs and drums stopped abruptly.
The children below the stage sighed and stamped their feet anxiously. One little girl with pigtails was so worried that tears were about to fall. She tugged at her mother's clothes and shook her, saying, "Mother, what if the Taoist priest loses?"
With a clang, the gong rang out again.
Suddenly, the mountain forest scenery on the stage was turned upside down, revealing thatched huts nestled in the mountains.
The Taoist puppet was covered in wounds and curled up in a pit in the courtyard, protecting two infants that it had snatched from the dragon's mouth.
At this moment, a girl in green timidly walked out of the thatched hut. She saw the Taoist priest fighting bravely against the evil dragon in the air and the Taoist priest risking his life to save the baby.
She walked to the edge of the pit, squatted down, and used her sleeve to wipe the blood off his face, looking at him with a sigh.
At this moment, the evil dragon in the sky searched the mountains again and again for the Taoist priest's figure.
The girl in green hurriedly carried the wooden puppet Taoist into the house and soothed the crying baby. The roar of the evil dragon echoed through the mountains, causing dust to fall from the walls of the thatched hut.
The baby was frightened and kept crying.
The cries finally caught the dragon's attention, and its enormous vertical pupils peered intently into the room through the window.
"Hey! You wicked dragon, you've committed countless evil deeds, how could I possibly forgive you?"
The canvas shifts, and we arrive outside.
It turned out to be a woodcutter, holding a wood-chopping axe and wearing a blood-stained Taoist robe that he had picked up from somewhere, looking quite respectable.
The dragon narrowed its vertical pupils, abandoned the thatched hut, and pounced.
The woodcutter gritted his teeth and brought his axe down against the black mist. With a clang, it struck the dragon's horn, sending sparks flying. The dragon, in pain, whipped its tail, sending him flying and crashing into a pine tree thicker than his waist.
The children in the audience gasped in unison, and some of the younger ones covered their eyes.
I couldn't bear to watch any longer.
Knowing he was outmatched, the woodcutter abandoned his axe and ran straight into the mountains and forests.
The dragon was chasing after them, ignoring the house behind which the baby was crying.
The rescued girl in green led the Taoist priest to the cellar, where she carefully fed him a bowl of medicine.
After some time, the Taoist priest's injuries had healed, but his sword was broken. The people in the city were suffering from the evil dragon again. He did not stop. Even without his sword, he would still fight the evil dragon.
The Taoist priest, grateful for the kindness of the girl in green, promised that if he survived the battle against the evil dragon, he would come back to express his gratitude.
After saying goodbye, he hurriedly returned to the city.
The canvas flips over, and we move on to the next scene.
The city was flooded and engulfed in flames, and countless infants were snatched away by the evil dragon's minions.
The puppet Taoist priest stood amidst the ruins, empty-handed, yet without hesitation, fiercely battling the horde of shrimp soldiers and crab generals.
The children in the audience all had tears in their eyes, and their shoulders trembled.
Without his peach wood sword, the Taoist priest fought bare-handed against the group of armored and bladed shrimp soldiers and crab generals. Every punch landed hard, and he managed to snatch an infant back from under their armor and blades.
But he was no match for the overwhelming force. He was struck hard on the back, staggered to one knee, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, staining his tattered clothes.
High above the clouds, the evil dragon leered at the swordless Taoist priest and sneered, "Without a sword, who can you defeat?"
Upon hearing this, the puppet Taoist priest did not reply. Instead, he looked down at the crying infant in his arms, stretched out his blood-stained fingers, and clumsily wiped away the tears from the baby's face.
The canvas rotates again.
It turned out that after the Taoist priest left, the girl in green found the broken wooden sword he had left behind.
She knelt in the temple, holding a wooden sword, and prayed for the Taoist priest.
The gods in the temple were moved by his sincerity.
An old immortal with a white beard and white hair, holding a whisk, descended from the sky, sitting on a crane.
The old sage said, "That evil dragon has a body of steel and iron. Even if this sword is repaired, it will be difficult to break through its scales. If you want to defeat it, you need a sword with a spirit."
The white-bearded old immortal flicked his whisk, and starlight instantly fell upon the broken sword in the arms of the girl in green.
"For this sword to be forged, it requires a human soul as its catalyst and a sincere heart as its blade. Young girl, are you willing to sacrifice your life to bring this sword back to the light of day?"
Without hesitation, the girl in green held the sword in both hands, knelt down and kowtowed.
The stage was brightly lit, and the broken sword was slowly healing and extending in the hands of the girl in green. Blue patterns appeared on the sword, just like the color of the girl's clothes.
As the light on the stage gradually faded, the broken sword was restored to its original state, except that the blue patterns on the blade were faintly translucent, pulsating slightly as if they were alive.
The figure of the girl in green grew fainter and fainter, like ink dripping into a stream, gradually disappearing from her sleeves and drifting away.
But the girl in green didn't care. She looked down at the sword in her hand, a faint smile on her lips, and finally turned into a wisp of green smoke, disappearing into the sword.
The children's eyes welled up with tears, snot streamed down their faces, and they sobbed and cried out:
"Don't die, girl in green! Don't die!"
The sword suddenly shone brightly, humming incessantly, as if it had a soul, and flew through the clouds towards the distant city.
……
In the city, a wooden puppet Taoist priest, without a sword and with tattered clothes, tightly clutches the infant in his arms, surrounded by shrimp soldiers and crab generals.
The green sword pierced through the air and landed directly in the puppet Taoist's hand. The green light on the sword made the entire stage brighter.
The sound of gongs and drums suddenly became rapid and intense, like a torrential downpour hitting the roof tiles.
The moment the puppet Taoist grasped his sword, his aura changed drastically. He swept away the shrimp soldiers and crab generals who had surrounded him with a single sword strike, their shells cracking with a "crackling" sound.
The children in the audience cheered and jumped for joy, shouting, "The Taoist priest has a sword! He has a sword!"
The evil dragon in the clouds could no longer sit still and personally pounced down from the clouds.
The Taoist priest raised his sword to meet the attack, and a bright blue light shone forth. With a single stroke, he cleaved through the black mist, tearing a gash in the dragon's scales and causing blood to splatter.
"Good, kill the evil dragon!" the children cheered in unison.
The sound of gongs and drums shook the heavens as the Taoist priest and the evil dragon fought for dozens of rounds, the blue light and black mist causing the wind and clouds on the stage to change color.
The evil dragon roamed swiftly and unpredictably in the clouds, twisting and turning, sometimes coiling into a loop, sometimes stretching straight out like a rope.
The puppet Taoist priest calmly dealt with the situation, his sword gleaming with a blue light, causing the black mist to dissipate and become difficult to conceal.
Unable to defeat the Black Dragon, it tried to repeat its old tricks, sending shrimp soldiers and crab generals to harass the people and distract the Taoist priests.
Sure enough, the shrimp soldiers and crab generals, obeying the evil dragon's command, immediately turned their blades and pounced on the fleeing civilians below the platform. Several slow-moving old people were surrounded, and sharp spears were about to pierce them.
The puppet Taoist priest tried to save them, but was relentlessly pursued by the black dragon.
But then a loud shout rang out: "Hey, you bunch of evil spirits and villains, take this axe!"
It turned out to be the woodcutter in the blood-stained Taoist robe, carrying an axe, who had come to the city. The woodcutter roared, and a dark mass of people followed behind him.
Farmers carrying hoes, blacksmiths wielding hammers, porters carrying shoulder poles, and cooks holding rolling pins... Although the villagers looked fearful, none of them retreated.
"Fellow villagers, protect the children!" The woodcutter swung his axe and charged into the ranks of the shrimp soldiers and crab generals, hacking and slashing left and right.
The villagers followed, hoes pounding the crab shells with a dull thud, carrying poles striking the shrimp's backs with a crisp sound, and hammers, needless to say, cracking the shells one by one with a snap. The shrimp soldiers and crab generals, who had been baring their fangs and claws just moments before, were now being beaten back step by step by these farmers.
On stage, the drums and gongs beat in a dense, rain-like rhythm, while below, children clenched their fists, stomped their feet, and shouted until their voices cracked, "Hit them! Hit them!"
The black dragon, having lost the help of its minions, grew increasingly frenzied, its tail sweeping like a whip and its claws slashing and clawing with the wind.
But the Taoist priests dealt with them all calmly.
After its rampage, the dragon showed signs of exhaustion. The Taoist priest seized the opportunity, leaping up from the ruins and piercing the dragon's head with a single sword strike.
The black mist dissipated, and the evil dragon fell. The Taoist priest stood atop the city wall, leaning on his sword, his body covered in blood.
The shrimp soldiers and crab generals, lacking any backbone, were utterly powerless to resist and were repeatedly defeated by the villagers, fleeing into the water in disarray.
The sound of gongs and drums suddenly stopped.
After a long silence on the stage, a clear gong sounded.
The curtain slowly closed, leaving only a small gap, a tiny gap through which one could see the bluish-green wooden sword.
The play is over.
The children were still immersed in the puppet show. Some wiped away tears and cried out for the girl in green to come back to life, while others clenched their fists and refused to leave, saying they wanted to kill the evil dragon.
When Song Quyou came to his senses, there was a steaming hot sesame seed cake in front of him.
Unbeknownst to him, a girl in green robes was squatting beside him.
"I saw that Brother Song was engrossed in what he was watching, so I didn't disturb him."
Song Quyou took the sesame seed cake, still somewhat dazed, and asked with a faint smile, "Where is Senior Sister?"
"Sister Su is having tea with the abbot and told us not to wait for her; she'll be home later."
Song Quyou stood up, looked at the middle-aged man tidying up the stage, took out some loose silver from his pocket, and placed it on the gong on the man's carrying pole.
"Uncle, the puppet show is wonderful."
The old man was busy packing up the puppets when he heard this. He looked up and a smile spread across his wrinkled face: "I'm glad the guests enjoyed themselves."
He picked up the few pieces of silver from the carrying pole, weighed them in his palm, and handed them back, saying, "This is too much. My old skills aren't worth this much."
Song Quyou didn't accept it, but simply said, "It's worth it."
The old man paused for a moment, then stopped refusing. He put the silver coins into his pocket, glanced at the long sword at Song Quyou's waist, and then at the girl next to him.
The old man bent down and took out a blue-clad doll from under the stage, handing it to the girl next to him.
The young woman took the doll, stroking its rough eyebrows and eyes, and looked at the old man, asking, "Uncle, is the girl in green who performed the sword-offering ceremony really dead?"
The old man said gently, though his words were ambiguous, "'Poor cassia branch, its fragrance unknown to you. Broken in the cold mountains, it died unseen.' Young lady, not all sacrifices are seen."
After saying this, the old man picked up his load and swayed as he went down the mountain.