On the streets, crowds of people were coming and going.
Some carried poles on their shoulders to sell New Year goods, some pushed carts selling food, and others set up stalls to write New Year couplets.
An old man stood before a stall, haggling with the owner.
"Your calligraphy is not good enough. The strokes are all crooked."
"Oh, please don't be so picky, elder. It is the New Year, so just look for something auspicious."
"Fine, fine. Write one for me. I want the kind... the kind... that can bless me to live a few more years next year!"
"Understood! I guarantee you will be satisfied!"
The stall owner picked up his brush and swept it across the paper to write a pair of couplets.
Crossing out names in the Hall of the King of Hell, adding to the lifespan in the City of the Wrongfully Dead.
Horizontal scroll: Life from Death.
The old man looked at the couplets and beamed with joy.
"Good, good, good! This is exactly what I meant!"
He paid the money, carefully rolled up the couplets, and squeezed back into the crowd.
Chen Zhou watched the figures moving back and forth on the street and saw the genuine smiles on their faces. He suddenly felt that this was quite nice.
The sun gradually sank in the west.
The afterglow dyed the entire City of the Wrongfully Dead in a golden hue.
The white lanterns looked exceptionally elegant under the sunset, swaying gently in the wind like countless hands waving.
Chen Zhou leaned against the window of the Gathering Fortune Pavilion, watching.
He watched the people on the street gradually thin out, the lanterns light up one by one, and the night slowly creep in.
The moon rose.
It was round and bright, hanging on the corner of the Gathering Fortune Pavilion's eaves like a silver hat placed upon the building.
It was a fine day.
Around the hour of the rat.
Chen Zhou was about to close his eyes to rest when he suddenly noticed lights flickering in the distance.
They were tiny dots, like fireflies dancing in the night.
At first, there were only a few in the eastern part of the city.
Then came the west, the south, and the north.
More and more lights flickered to life, merging into rivers of light that slowly flowed toward the Gathering Fortune Pavilion.
Chen Zhou raised an eyebrow.
He stood up, walked to the window, and looked down.
The citizens of the entire city had all come out.
They held white lanterns in their hands, wore brand-new black burial shrouds, and had snow-white makeup painted on their faces, complete with two dark circles around their eyes and bright red lips.
Under the candlelight, they looked eerie and spectral.
Yet, they were perfectly organized.
The procession came to a halt below the Gathering Fortune Pavilion.
No one shouted or made a fuss; there was only the soft crackling of the candles inside the lanterns.
Then, everyone knelt down in unison.
Their movements were perfectly synchronized, as if they had practiced countless times.
"Welcome, Godly Venerable!"
"Peace and health in the New Year!"
"Boundless fortune and longevity!"
Chen Zhou stood at the window, looking at the dense crowd of black figures below and the city full of white lanterns swaying in the night.
He smiled.
When he first saw this aesthetic, he had indeed found it a bit hard to adjust to.
After all, having lived for over twenty years in his previous life where the New Year was all about red and fire, suddenly switching to a sea of white required some mental adjustment.
But now that he had seen it many times, he did not find anything wrong with it.
They were his subjects, after all.
They could dress however they wanted.
As long as they were happy.
Chen Zhou spoke up graciously.
"Rise. You all look very sharp today."
The crowd began to stir.
"Did you hear that? The Lord praised us!"
"I told you the Lord would like this!"
"Exactly! We were playing to his tastes!"
The commotion quickly died down. Everyone looked up and said in unison.
"Lord, tonight is New Year's Eve and also the day of the God's Grace Festival."
"We have prepared a small token of our appreciation for the Lord and would like to invite you to grace us with your presence."
Chen Zhou's brow twitched.
He pushed open the door and walked out of the Gathering Fortune Pavilion.
Below the building, the citizens had already cleared a path.
At the end of the path was his Nine-Skull Throne, which he had always kept on the altar. He had not expected them to move it here.
Standing around the throne were eight strong men. Chen Zhou walked over and sat on the throne with great interest.
He let them carry him along.
He was also curious about what kind of play they were going to perform for him instead of sleeping in the middle of the night.
The crowd cheered all along the way. Some old people were moved to tears, some looked fanatical, and others squeezed forward desperately just to be closer to him.
The crowd escorted the Nine-Skull Throne toward the central plaza of the City of the Wrongfully Dead.
Along the way, people constantly joined the procession.
Citizens who were originally staying at home to welcome the New Year saw the procession passing by and followed with their lanterns.
By the time they reached the plaza, a massive crowd had gathered behind Chen Zhou.
In the center of the plaza, a huge stage had already been built.
The stage was a hundred feet wide, its surface paved with stone slabs and covered with a black backdrop painted with strange patterns.
Rows of benches were set up in front of the stage, already filled with people.
Seeing Chen Zhou's arrival, everyone stood up to salute.
Chen Zhou waved his hand, signaling for them to continue.
He did not get down either, sitting on the Nine-Skull Throne and looking down from his high vantage point.
The crowd fell silent, their gazes fixed on the stage.
Chen Zhou looked at the stage.
He saw Hong Ling and Shitou leading dozens of villagers onto the stage, dressed in ragged clothes.
Their clothes were covered in patches, some even showing cotton stuffing, and their faces were smeared with dirt.
Hong Ling leaned on a wooden stick, limping at the very front.
Shitou followed behind her, carrying a bundle wrapped in tattered cloth on his back, his head lowered with a miserable expression.
Chen Zhou was baffled.
What is the meaning of this?
Then he heard Shitou speak.
Shitou kept a stiff face and spoke in an extremely mechanical, monotone voice.
"Ah—I am about to die—"
"I heard there is a deity in the Dead Man's Forest—Godly Lord, please save me—"
The audience below was silent.
Chen Zhou: "..."
What on earth is this?
Just as he was thinking this, Nie Chaoxi appeared at the other end of the stage with several small black snakes that usually plowed the fields.
Nie Chaoxi had transformed into human form, with several fake scars pasted on her face, trying her best to look fierce and malevolent.
She strode to the center of the stage and spoke haltingly.
"I—I am the lawless Nie Hailong of Fengdao County!"
A small black snake beside her whispered a reminder.
"You got the line wrong. It is 'wicked and lawless.'"
Nie Chaoxi's face flushed red, and she quickly corrected herself. "I am the wicked and lawless Nie Hailong of Fengdao County!"
A ripple of light laughter rose from below the stage.
But the laughter was soon drowned out by a burst of arrogant laughing.
"Hahahaha!"
Lord Rat scurried out from behind Shitou.
He wore black clothes, and beneath his mask, only two crimson eyes were visible.
"How dare a mere minor demon act wild in front of Lord Rat!"
"Lord Rat has come by the Lord's command to slay demons and eliminate evil!"
After saying that, he rushed forward and gave those small black snakes a thorough beating.
The small black snakes were very cooperative, falling to the ground and wriggling a few times before scurrying off the stage.
Lord Rat stood on the stage and laughed toward the sky.
"Hahahaha!"
"Who else is there!"
The citizens below were moved to tears, clapping and cheering loudly.
"Good!"
"Lord Rat is mighty!"
"So exciting!"
Chen Zhou: "..."
He fell silent.
So these people had spent all these days behind his back just to come up with this thing?
Rate on N.U.
