With Yuan Qingzhi’s command, everyone on site immediately sprang into action.

To prevent uncontrollable accidents, the police began expanding the lockdown perimeter, encompassing nearly half of Qingcheng Ancient Street.

The Si Tian Jian members were responsible for contacting logistics staff, working overtime to gather personnel, striving to rescue the performers forced into the play as soon as possible.

Amidst the bustle, Yan Guchen strode quickly to the edge of the open space and picked up his phone.

“Hello… What?”

When Cheng Yuehua received the call, he was busy visiting friends and relatives, so busy his feet barely touched the ground, trying every possible way to rescue the three missing performers who had entered the play.

“The only surviving person with natural opera talent has been found?! Wonderful, that’s truly wonderful!”

He repeated it twice into the receiver in disbelief. After getting Yan Guchen’s definite confirmation, his brow, furrowed for three whole days, finally smoothed out. “Don’t worry, since Miss Yuan has instructed it, leave this matter to this old man. I’ll immediately take people to the Qingcheng Museum to retrieve the fragmented manuscript of Night Journey Chronicles.”

Friends waiting nearby asked curiously, “Well? Found a way?”

“Yes.” Cheng Yuehua put down the phone, his face beaming. “Old Liu’s daughter has been found.”

This short sentence caused expressions of surprise to appear on everyone’s faces.

“After that incident back then… didn’t the Liu family announce they were withdrawing from the opera world, never to sing again?”

“Yeah, even that thousand-year-old opera stage at the Pear Garden was covered up with tarps by them. It was the government that paid for its repairs.”

“That couldn’t be helped either. Almost the entire Liu family suffered serious health problems from that incident; they were nearly wiped out.”

“I did hear that after the last Liu family member passed away a few years ago, the Pear Garden almost had no successor. Strange though, I haven’t heard anything about Old Liu’s daughter’s whereabouts all these years. She’s also someone with natural opera talent?”

“Yes. She’s the only Liu family member still alive now. Although she… sigh, forget it. The situation is urgent, we can’t worry about these things now.”

Cheng Yuehua picked up the coat hanging on the rack. “I met Old Liu’s daughter once when she was little. She definitely has natural opera talent. But as for her situation after all these years, I’m not too clear either. I just suggested it as a last resort, and didn’t expect the Si Tian Jian to actually find her.”

Meanwhile, Yuan Qingzhi, having entered the backstage area of the opera stage, received the script for the first opera.

The full title read: Night Journey Chronicles · Volume One · Yu Mengjing · Evil Omen.

She flipped through two pages and suddenly asked.

“This opera… I remember it being quite famous, right?”

“All the operas in the first volume of Night Journey Chronicles are famous. Unfortunately, parts were lost, and few of the remaining ones can actually be performed. Sigh, if Yu Mengjing weren’t so difficult to play—the number performed on stage in the last decade can be counted on one hand—there wouldn’t be any talk of the so-called ‘Four Great Operas’.”

As he spoke, Jia Wenyu, diligently moving prop boxes, suddenly realized something was wrong. “Wait, you mean you haven’t seen it?”

“I watched it often as a child. My father was a fanatical admirer of Night Journey Chronicles.”

Yuan Qingzhi sighed. “But then something happened to my family, I fell seriously ill, and forgot everything from before. After recovering, I followed my relatives’ advice and never touched opera again. I only remember the basics, the superficial stuff, about these operas.”

“Ah… That must be about Grandmaster Liu’s incident, right? My apologies.”

Jia Wenyu realized he’d misspoken and wished he could slap himself hard across the face.

Liu Wenqing was the last opera performer in the modern era bestowed with the title “Grandmaster.” He not only founded the “Qing School” artistic style of opera but also spread opera overseas, possessing extremely high social influence both domestically and internationally.

Unfortunately, such a person, due to excessive obsession with opera, remained performing on stage even when the opera house caught fire. In the end, failing to escape in time, he became one with the great fire.

His death was highly dramatic and romantic, also symbolizing the beginning of modern opera’s decline.

Even though twenty years had passed, countless opera fans still wrung their hands in regret over the incident.

Mentioning it in front of his daughter was even worse; Jia Wenyu was so embarrassed he didn’t know where to put his hands.

“It’s fine.” Conversely, the person involved didn’t seem to mind. “Right, who are the three missing masters?”

Jia Wenyu quickly cooperated to change the subject. “Teacher Yuan Xiangming, Teacher Dai Qian, and Teacher Huo Xingyan.”

Hearing these three names, Yuan Qingzhi couldn’t help but click her tongue.

She wasn’t familiar with the other two, having only heard their names at most.

But Yuan Xiangming was her father Liu Wenqing’s last disciple, the current backbone of the Qing School, and someone she grew up with.

She hadn’t expected that after a few years apart, he hadn’t been spared either, unluckily entering the play.

Although the Liu family had withdrawn from the opera world, if her father’s painstaking creation, the Qing School, truly declined, wouldn’t she become a sinner for ages?

Feeling a rare sense of pressure, Yuan Qingzhi put down the script and closed her eyes in thought.

Outside the stage, the orchestra was already in place, tuning their instruments. The duet of suona and xiao flutes could be heard from afar.

Jia Wenyu paced back and forth twice before finally spotting people. “Quick, quick.”

The opera makeup artist and prop master arrived hurriedly, carrying suitcases. They were breathing heavily, foreheads beaded with sweat from rushing.

As soon as they entered backstage, the makeup artist darted forward, opened her suitcase, revealing rows of bottles and jars.

She twisted open a makeup compact. “Miss Yuan, which character from Evil Omen are you planning to portray?”

“Hmm… Let me think. This one.”

Hearing this, Yuan Qingzhi opened her eyes and casually pointed to a section in the script.

“Are you sure?” Not just the makeup artist, but several others present also showed surprise, unable to understand her choice.

“Yes.”

Since Yuan Qingzhi insisted, they naturally couldn’t object. Jia Wenyu wanted to speak up, but remembering his Director-General’s repeated warnings, he ultimately kept his mouth shut.

For a moment, only the sound of the prop master organizing clothes and accessories could be heard backstage.

After a while, Jia Wenyu couldn’t hold back any longer. “Miss Yuan, may I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“This ‘entering the play’ you mentioned… what kind of process is it?”

Initially, Jia Wenyu thought ‘entering the play’ was a strange phenomenon exclusive to the fusion of Night Journey Chronicles and reality.

Only after hearing Yuan Qingzhi and Yan Guchen’s explanations did he realize the term had existed in the opera world for many years, even revered as a standard by opera masters throughout dynasties, pursued lifelong.

He gleaned an astonishing piece of information from their conversation: even without rain as a medium, without the opera-reality fusion, this miraculous effect could be triggered.

Although his Director-General had been vague before leaving, not revealing much, Jia Wenyu’s clever brain could guess that ‘natural opera talent’ was the key to this mysterious door of entering the play.

This truly piqued his curiosity.

When the Si Tian Jian first arrived at the Pear Garden, Yuan Qingzhi had bluntly stated she couldn’t sing opera.

Yet even so, Yan Guchen showed no intention of giving up.

Jia Wenyu knew his Director-General was always cautious, excessively so, even when things seemed feasible.

If there wasn’t a ninety percent chance of success, he would never proceed. This made it even more suspicious.

“You’re asking me about the process of entering the play? Good question.” Because she was having her makeup done, Yuan Qingzhi kept her eyes closed, replying irritably, “This is my first time performing on stage, how would I know?”

Jia Wenyu: “…?”

He asked tactfully, “No offense intended, but how long did you study opera?”

“A few years here and there, maybe? But that was when I was a kid. Later, I just went to school obediently. Didn’t I tell you I lost my memory? Even if I learned, I’d have forgotten it all.” Yuan Qingzhi comforted him, “But don’t worry. Ancient texts say those with natural opera talent can inherently enter the play. Things will work out when the time comes. Whether I can enter or not, we’ll find out when I get on stage.”

“…”

Great, Jia Wenyu thought calmly.

His anxious, unsettled heart finally died.

“Miss Yuan, the makeup is done.”

Although pressed for time, the makeup artist’s dedication to perfection didn’t allow her to rush.

Even though the character Yuan Qingzhi specified didn’t require such precision, she still spent twenty precious minutes finally completing the entire look.

Hearing this, Yuan Qingzhi, who had been feeling drowsy, opened her eyes—and they widened instantly.

The person in the mirror had willow-leaf eyebrows, phoenix eyes, cinnabar painted on her forehead, dotted vermilion lips, and red tracing the outer corners of her eyes.

Her hair ornaments were decorated with kingfisher feathers in blue and white; the top flower held a cluster of vibrant, fluttering butterflies; phoenix pearl tassels hung from the side flowers; and dark strands of hair fell behind her on both sides.

Paired with a palace gown of the same color with flowing water sleeves, she instantly transformed from a modern office worker radiating slacker vibes into a demure young lady from an ancient noble family.

When silent, she possessed the air of an elegant orchid in an empty valley.

“…Huh?”

Looking at herself in the mirror, Yuan Qingzhi was momentarily stunned.

Forget her, even Jia Wenyu, who had stepped out and just returned, almost didn’t recognize her.

He rubbed his eyes, simply unable to connect the person sitting before the mirror with the girl who, not long ago, was wearing home clothes, holding a broom, and rushing clamorously out of the Pear Garden.

The makeup artist couldn’t help but cover her mouth and chuckle. “Miss Yuan has good features to begin with, her looks lean towards classical beauty. Those phoenix eyes are simply stunning, needing little enhancement. She was naturally born to eat from the bowl of opera.”

Yuan Qingzhi stretched listlessly. “It’s just okay. Office drones don’t usually have time for makeup anyway.”

Hearing this, Jia Wenyu had an indescribable feeling.

Indeed, when Miss Yuan wasn’t talking, she really looked the part.

But the moment she spoke, that aura of a jaded drone, beaten down by society, was instantly exposed! Ahhhhhh!

“How are the preparations?” After receiving news that Cheng Yuehua was on his way back, Yan Guchen strode quickly into the backstage area.

Seeing Yuan Qingzhi’s drastically changed appearance, he too paused for a second, but quickly recovered.

“By the way, the Si Tian Jian urgently consulted some materials and found that predecessors who entered the play or possessed natural opera talent all left behind a crucial term—’awakening item’. We’re unsure what this item refers to, but given its high frequency in ancient texts, we decided to retrieve the information anyway. Perhaps it will be of some help to you.”

Yuan Qingzhi smiled faintly. “Thank you. But I know what this item refers to, and I’ve prepared it.”

“Good.” Yan Guchen breathed a sigh of relief. “In any case, you must remember, everything in the opera is false. Absolutely do not indulge in it, or the consequences will be dire.”

“Of course.”

“Then… shall we begin?”

“One more thing. If I don’t make it back, please give the entire insurance payout to Lin Ruhua. Also, pay close attention to changes in the original Night Journey Chronicles manuscript during the performance. Entering the play inevitably creates butterfly effects, potentially altering the existing opera. If I can’t get out either, you can try burning the first volume directly. Treat a dead horse like a live one; maybe it can delay the fusion process between opera and reality.”

The moment these words left her mouth, the Si Tian Jian members were all taken aback.

They had always assumed this grandmaster’s daughter agreed to help them because the pay was simply too good.

But now, it seemed that wasn’t entirely the case.

“Of course, that’s just the worst-case scenario. Don’t worry, I’ll come back alive to collect the money!”

Before they could react, Yuan Qingzhi sprang up from her chair.

She couldn’t help it; her personality was just like that, unsuitable for sentimental speeches. These words could only be said at the very end.

Almost from the moment she stood up, the previously indistinct atmosphere suddenly erupted.

After the last hair ornament was inserted, her posture instantly straightened, like a pearl finally wiped clean of dust, revealing its stunning brilliance, far more eye-catching than a burning candle.

The backstage was merely a few dozen steps from the stage.

Each step was a transformation, a shedding of her old self.

By the time she reached the stage curtain, the person standing there was no longer “Yuan Qingzhi,” but one of the unwed young ladies from a noble family in Evil Omen.

“This…” Jia Wenyu was utterly dumbfounded.

Wait, you’re telling me this is a newcomer performing for the first time?

Learned opera as a child but forgot everything?

“I told you before, don’t underestimate natural opera talent. That’s the kind of gift countless opera performers dream of.”

Seeing his expression, Yan Guchen said helplessly, “The opera world has never lacked masters, but throughout history, those with natural opera talent are luminaries you can count on just a few hands, usually appearing only once every few hundred years. For the Liu family to have both father and daughter… their ancestors must have burned some seriously high incense.”

“With such talent, one doesn’t even need to formally learn opera. Just listening to a couple of performances is enough to be able to sing directly.”

Gazing at the figure about to take the stage, the Si Tian Jian Director-General’s voice couldn’t help but be tinged with anticipation. “I heard Grandmaster Liu was the same back then; he’d enter the state within seven steps of going on stage. Don’t listen to her nonsense. Look how effortlessly skillful she appears—is it possible she won’t come back? That’s natural opera talent we’re talking about. Entering the play is their absolute domain.”

Clang—

The small sanxian (three-stringed lute) sounded.

The red curtain hanging at the edge of the stage was slowly drawn open.

A faint fragrance drifted through the air.

Unlike ordinary opera performances, this time, following Yuan Qingzhi’s prior instructions, all observing Si Tian Jian members and police stood to the sides.

The area directly in front of the stage was empty, containing only rows of vacant chairs.

Fortunately, the performance started before midnight; otherwise, had it been after midnight, this opera would have become the legendary “third-watch opera,” performed specifically for ghosts and gods.

Accompanied by the playing of the yueqin (moon lute) and erhu (two-stringed fiddle), the gongs and drums sounded, and the narrator’s voice rose high.

“Opera Evil Omen, commencing—”

Yuan Qingzhi took a deep breath and slowly stepped out.

---

Meanwhile, inside the Qingcheng Museum.

Cheng Yuehua, who had been pacing circles in the reception room, finally heard the sound of a door pushing open.

“Mr. Cheng, hello. Here is what you requested.”

A staff member held a tray, upon which rested a historical artifact just removed from its display case.

The ancient book had a blue cover, its corners slightly creased, looking dry and unassuming.

“Is this the original manuscript of Night Journey Chronicles?” A Si Tian Jian member nearby couldn’t help asking.

It was just that this ancient book was preserved too well. Even after hundreds of years, it looked like it could still be easily flipped through.

“Yes, the paper of Night Journey Chronicles underwent special treatment during its creation. We don’t know what solution the anonymous playwright soaked it in, but even fire has difficulty burning it. Legend says it’s impervious to blades and spears, which is how it survived centuries of warfare. It should technically be considered a novel of strange tales, just written in the style of an opera script, supplemented with narration. In every aspect, it surpasses the standard expected of ordinary opera scripts.”

Facing this precious original manuscript, Cheng Yuehua found it hard to contain his excitement.

Introducing it, he gently reached out with a gloved hand, carefully turning the pages of this operatic magnum opus. “Unfortunately, Night Journey Chronicles is a fragmented text. Several volumes have sections missing, scattered among the populace, who knows where. The tenth volume of the original manuscript is also entirely blank. If only the version passed down were complete…”

Speaking midway, Cheng Yuehua’s voice abruptly stopped.

His eyes widened, his entire body froze for several seconds.

Trembling, he fumbled at his chest, took out a pair of foldable reading glasses, and stared incredulously at the last few pages.

Due to his unusual behavior, the staff member and the Si Tian Jian member also looked over.

When they saw clearly, they both looked as if they had seen a ghost.

In the place that should have been blank, writing had appeared out of thin air, distinctly in the style of the ancient manuscript.

Written upon it was: Night Journey Chronicles · Volume Ten · Entering the Play, Awakening Dream

“Is this… a new opera… writing itself?”