Chapter 67
Wu Heng was certain He Yunxiao was sneering on the other end.
Da Bai was still worried. ‘…What if I can’t suppress it?’
Wu Heng: ‘…I’ll help you.’
Seeing his exasperated expression, Da Bai, touched, immediately agreed. ‘I’ll go!’
Xi Xi thought Da Bai was very brave, cheering him on, ‘I’ll go with you, Big Brother, Xi Xi will protect you!’
He Yunxiao, listening, frowned, his daughter was a bit too tolerant. ‘Big Brother Da Bai, you’re such a good snake,’ she praised.
Although motivated by claiming a new territory, ultimately it was for his classmates, so Big Brother was a good snake.
Da Bai: ‘Huh?’
A good snake? Something felt odd about that.
Wu Heng and Zhou Yi chuckled. He had truly won over the little white snake.
[??? Are they… talking to snakes?]
[I’m sure Doctor Wu can understand them. I’m so jealous, I wish I could understand my pet.]
[Seeing him prescribe medicine for Hei Bao, I realized he’s a veterinarian shaman too!]
Wu Heng, composed now, turned to the anxious principal and parents. “I have a solution for the fog. It will coincide with the Nuo opera festival.”
The Xuanmen practitioners exchanged glances. They understood, these secret techniques couldn’t be revealed.
“So we have to wait until tomorrow?” A desperate parent asked.
They couldn’t see what was happening inside, only that the principal had invited a group of practitioners, and even the police had set up a cordon. It was dangerous inside, every minute a risk.
Some parents were filled with regret. They should have contacted Wu Heng sooner.
“Doctor Wu, destroy those evil spirits when the time comes!” a parent wailed.
Wu Heng said calmly, “There’s no need.” Those teachers cherished their students.
“Them?” The parents cried, it wasn’t just one, but many!
“I’m not leaving. I’ll sleep in my car,” a parent declared, and others agreed. The police dispersed them, the fog’s range unknown, it wasn’t safe.
The parents went to nearby hotels, wanting to be close to their children.
Witnessing this, the Wang family realized the value of their connection with Wu Heng.
“We’re logging off now, Doctor Wu,” Mr. Wang said, sending more gifts, then ended the call.
In the car, Wang Pengzheng held Hei Bao in the backseat. “Godfather, I had you neutered, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.”
Hei Bao barked.
Mother Wang, sitting in front, “Don’t say such depressing things!”
Well, Hei Bao’s status had surpassed his.
Wu Heng checked the connection requests, “Where’s that nail patient? No follow-up?”
He Yunxiao checked too. Perhaps he was asleep.
[Sky High Nails (Follow-up): Doctor Wu, the students are more important. Focus on the Nuo opera.]
[He’s considerate. Those students are more urgent.]
[Heng Bao, will you be selling those masks? I want to buy!]
[He doesn’t seem that anxious, maybe it’s not a big deal.]
[If I were him, I wouldn’t even bother with treatment, free manicures every day.]
[He’s quite kind, I saw a video of him rescuing a dog.]
Many clicked on his profile. He seemed like a cheerful guy. A new video posted last night:
Filmed seemingly from the floor, a blurry image of something with gleaming eyes hiding under the bed, his voice slightly worried. “Anyone lose a Samoyed? There’s one in my house. We have black bears in our village, it’s not safe. But it won’t eat rice, does it need dog food?”
Having been on Wu Heng’s live stream, he had some followers, the comments filled with helpful suggestions.
“Xiao Heng, about the Nuo opera rehearsal…” Zhou Dagui rushed in, seeing him live streaming, straightened his clothes nervously, always conscious of his image, and greeted the viewers.
Wu Heng smiled, “See you tomorrow,” and ended the stream.
“That young man who fell, he’s running a high fever…”
Wu Heng took a sip of water, “He tried to deceive the gods, a small warning.” If they weren’t locals, it wouldn’t have been just a fever.
“Then you’ll be the lead dancer tomorrow.” The village chief was pleased but also slightly worried, he had seen Wu Heng’s shamanic dance, which was different from the Nuo opera, the other performers might not be able to keep up.
Wu Heng, seemingly knowing his thoughts, “The dance is a form of expression, what matters is the collective positive energy.”
Reassured, Zhou Dagui left.
It was closing time. Wu Heng took Shi Xuan and Chen Zhao to their guest rooms.
The rooms were simple, just basic furniture. Wu Heng, knowing Chen Zhao wouldn’t mind, said to Shi Xuan, “Modest accommodations, please bear with it for two nights.”
Shi Xuan, glancing at Wu Heng’s room across the hall, “Only two nights?”
His gaze innocent and clear, Wu Heng sensed a deeper meaning. “You… might not be able to use the well so easily after going back to school.”
Xi Xi, tilting her head, suddenly asked, “Godfather, who’s screening the movie at Dad’s school?”
Da Bai immediately hid. ‘I’m busy with the fog… wow, an idiom! Teacher Yang will be proud!’
Jiaming High School was sealed, entering was too dangerous.
Chen Zhao said regretfully, “I’m willing, but I don’t have time.”
He was richer now, but still greedy, willing to do anything for money, just short on time.
Shi Xuan, looking at Wu Heng, “I’ll go.”
Wu Heng looked at Shi Xuan, their gazes meeting, a silent understanding, Wu Heng’s heart skipping a beat.
Others might think it was just concern, but he was actually asking to stay, a chance to be with him.
A subtle declaration.
Wu Heng’s cheeks flushed. “Create a temporary ID, something like ‘Teacher Shi, Cultural Promotion Department.’ Burn it.”
Zhou Yi was startled, “Jiaming High School?” The current high school was built on the ruins of the original Jiaming High School…
Shi Xuan wrote the ID on yellow paper and burnt it. A black ID card appeared, which wasn’t a surprise to Wu Heng and Zhou Yi.
Chen Zhao, envious, “Holy crap, even fake IDs get approved?! Is there a temp worker asleep at the underworld registry?!” The money-making potential…
He immediately dropped to his knees. “Doctor Wu, please reconsider taking disciples! I can bring my master with me!”
Wu Heng: “…”
This shameless opportunist!
Few young people cared about traditional events like the Nuo opera, but this year was different.
Early morning, the drones buzzed overhead, live streaming for the provincial news. Tourists in local costumes took photos, a long queue at the Nuo God Temple for the blessed fruit.
Inside, Wu Heng applied makeup, ancient runes appearing on his face, arms, and chest.
The young men, after last night, were much more obedient, lining up to be painted with mystical symbols.
A rooster with a vibrant tail feather was chosen for Wu Heng.
“Wu Heng, you’ll perform the Eye-Dotting Ritual,” Grandma Lai said, handing him a bowl of warm chicken blood.
Different villages, different customs. In their eighteen villages, the shaman or priest dotted the eyes of the performers, supposedly granting them the ability to see spirits.
They looked at her, surprised, Wu Heng simply accepted the bowl.
He dipped his finger in the blood and lightly touched the spot between his eyebrows, not applying it. Then they bowed before the deities.
Wu Heng looked at his phone, the screen lighting up with notifications, and called Shi Xuan,
“If you don’t want me to escort you, take one of the leaves on my desk.”
Shi Xuan, seeing the two snakes skillfully pick up a leaf, chuckled, “Afraid I’ll get lost again?”
Wu Heng, “I’m afraid you’ll be hurt.”
A pause, then a gentle voice, “Don’t worry.”
The call ended. The Nuo opera festival began.
Cheers erupted outside. The young men, nervous, rubbed their hands, put on their masks, and emerged.
A sea of faces greeted them, cheering, drones buzzing, cameras flashing.
The flag team led the way, followed by the dancers to the rhythmic beat of gongs and drums, Wu Heng in the center, the colorful feather in his hair vibrant, his fluid movements mesmerizing.
The nervous young men, seeing his graceful dance, quickly found their rhythm.
Raw, primal energy, their movements powerful.
Wu Heng leaped onto the Nuo River Bridge.
Su Chenyu, watching, his heart pounding, remembering last night’s incident, touched his fish scale necklace, looking at the river, his fear lessened.
[If he falls again, it’s not the gods’ fault, it’s their crappy bridge. Don’t visit this place.]
[Be careful what you say!]
[Wu Heng’s dance is divine.]
[His shamanic dance before was beautiful, this is a different kind of beauty.]
Over eighty dancers, young and vibrant, their movements both solemn and fluid, a powerful, righteous aura surrounding them.
This was a true spectacle.
Shi Xuan emerged from the fog-filled well and checked the time, five minutes since jumping in. The two snakes still hadn’t arrived.
No wrong turns this time. He still didn’t understand how he could travel through wells, but he could.
He heard police sirens, the school was surrounded.
Familiar with the back mountain, he quickly scaled the wall.
The parents, having waited all night, their anxiety growing, saw the fog, even denser now.
The Nuo opera festival had already begun, no solutions here yet.
“Doctor Wu mentioned an outdoor movie, but who will set it up?” a parent asked, they looked at each other, no one knew.
Would this be another problem?
The principal, uneasy, thought this was a job for professionals, those practitioners from the Xuanmen who seemed to be incompetent.
Could they really rely on a mere online shaman doctor?
“There’s a sound inside,” a parent with sharp hearing said.
Strange sounds, they couldn’t tell what.
[Did Heng Bao forget about the movie? Switching between two live streams!]
[Can an online Nuo opera performance work? Can we just buy digital talismans if that’s the case?]
[It should work, isn’t online learning also effective?]
[That’s chairs falling… they’re heavy.]
A parent, not minding the expense, sent a drone in, and because it was daylight, they saw blurry images.
What they saw stunned them.
Chairs, floating in the air, moving towards the sports field.
Then the connection was lost.
A parent murmured, “Could it be… the students’ souls are setting up chairs for a movie screening?”
The school had a theater, why outside?
Several shadows were hurrying through the fog, urging the students with their eyes closed to carry their chairs.
‘An educational film arranged by the higher-ups, pay attention,’ a ghost in a Zhongshan suit and round glasses, a sinister smile on his face, said.
Movies were a rare treat, especially educational ones, a valuable opportunity.
Even teachers like them rarely watched movies, a foreign concept, now the students could experience it too.
Both students and teachers were excited, setting up their chairs and staring at the screen expectantly, pens and notebooks in hand, ready to take notes.
Shi Xuan, the temporary worker from the Cultural Promotion Department, took out his phone, connected to the ghost internet, and projected the live stream.
The black and white image appeared, and applause erupted.
On the screen, a group of costumed figures were dancing and beating drums, crossing a wooden bridge, accompanied by strange music.
They were mesmerized.
‘Teacher, what’s this?’
The ghostly teachers, staring at the screen, confused. One, a folklore expert, ‘Seems like a Nuo opera exorcism ritual.’
A student asked, confused, ‘Exorcising who? Do we have to learn this?‘
The teachers in blood-stained Zhongshan suits exchanged looks, their faces pale, ‘Looks like… they’re exorcising us…’
