Alma Espejo Antigua

Capítulo 45

Xu Haicheng was completely confused by her. "What the heck?"

"Yan Zhi Ao Zhe said to Mei Jian Chi, 'If you want revenge, give me your sword and your head.' Mei Jian Chi didn't hesitate and cut off his head to give to him. Then Yan Zhi Ao Zhe went to the palace, claiming to be an extraordinary person with special abilities who could make the king laugh. Mei Jian Chi's head sang and jumped joyfully on the water, and the king was attracted by it..."

Xu Haicheng had already understood, and said in astonishment, "Isn't this a myth..."

Before Pan Xiaolu could answer, thunderous applause erupted from the opening ceremony venue, deafeningly loud. Before the applause subsided, the towering spotlights suddenly went out, and the surrounding streetlights also went out, plunging the convention center and the opening ceremony venue into darkness. A mournful, plaintive sound of the xun (a type of ancient Chinese wind instrument) rose up, delicate, faint, almost imperceptible, intermittent, like a thin thread tugging at the heart, causing one's heart to involuntarily soar to the heights of the music.

Xu Haicheng and Pan Xiaolu were also drawn to the music. They quickly walked to the vicinity of the opening ceremony stage, where the area was already packed with people. They finally managed to find a slightly higher spot to stand. Xu Haicheng was tall enough to be seen, but Pan Xiaolu had to stand on tiptoe and hang half of her body on his arm.

The stage wasn't completely dark; dim red corner lights illuminated the dim light, and rows of wizards dressed in black feather robes emerged from backstage. Their faces were covered in dark masks, and they chanted ancient tunes repeatedly, which sounded strange and evocative, yet instilled a sense of awe in the listeners.

The audience was completely mesmerized, holding their breath and staring intently, with only the flashes of the cameras going off intermittently.

This was probably the only song and dance performance at the opening ceremony of the cultural festival. Xu Haicheng thought about the mountain-worshiping ceremony Wu Dajun had mentioned, a sudden doubt flashing through his mind. Wu Dajun had been shot, and Lao Chuntou was in detention; weren't they missing two wizards? Then he thought, there were eighty-one wizards anyway; he could just find two substitutes, they wouldn't stand out. A quick glance revealed city leaders, important guests, and a group of organizing committee members sitting in the front row. Yu Congrong was among them, too far away to see his expression clearly, but he vaguely sensed that he was completely absorbed, given his deep love for Mansi culture.

The sound of the xun (a type of ancient Chinese wind instrument) was low yet strong, the chanting deep yet resonant; these two sounds blended and merged, immersing the entire night in a mysterious murmur. It was as if we had left the city, left the 21st century, and returned to the ancient, primordial era, where infant humans were filled with both reverence and fear for the mysterious nature, offering Nuo dances and sacrifices to the gods in hopes of gaining their protection…

Another gong sounded. The wizards bowed slightly, and a wizard wearing a golden mask and holding a golden scepter walked out from backstage. His attire was more elaborate than the other wizards', and his bright red inner skirt was visible as he moved, contrasting with his black outer skirt and exuding an aura of evil allure.

The chief shaman, wearing a golden mask, stepped forward to the front of the stage. The other shamans straightened up, their wide sleeves flowing, and their chanting grew louder, accompanied by the sound of the xun (a type of ancient Chinese wind instrument). Each note gently tapped at everyone's eardrums, like a soft chant from a Buddhist temple, bringing to life the last vestiges of awe in the hearts of modern people. Thousands of people had gathered in the vast square, yet not a single cough was heard.

Even the corner lamps dimmed, leaving only a faint glow, just enough for everyone to see the indistinct figures on the stage and the golden mask in the center. The chanting of the other shamans gradually subsided, while the chanting of the chief shaman grew louder, repeatedly uttering "xi ya xi" sounds.

A petite shaman stepped forward, carrying something covered with a cloth, and solemnly knelt before the chief shaman. Those who rehearsed the Nuo dance knew it was a sacrifice.

The chief shaman chanted a few words aloud and then lifted the veil. Suddenly, something flew up from the tray, flew straight towards the front seats, and then flew back quickly. Only the chief shaman could see it clearly, but they were already terrified and speechless.

Xu Haicheng and Pan Xiaolu were also speechless. No adjective could describe their feelings at that moment; shock overwhelmed them like a giant wave. At first, they felt their whole bodies stiffen, even their tongues seemed to turn to stone, unable to speak. When they regained consciousness, they felt as if their hearts were about to jump out of their chests.

As soon as the object flew back to the tray, the chief shaman covered it with a cloth, and the petite shaman, carrying the tray, quickly retreated back among the other shamans. Those in the front row finally regained their senses, began shouting and staggering from their seats, except for Yu Congrong. The audience in the back, unaware of what had happened, exchanged bewildered glances. Then, the commotion in the front rows finally spread like ripples. Although many didn't know what was going on, seeing those usually expressionless figures on television behaving like three-year-olds, they knew something terrifying had occurred. People began to leave their seats, and the opening ceremony descended into chaos.

The performers dressed as wizards on stage also began to panic and jumped off the stage one after another. Only a dozen or so plainclothes officers mixed in with the crowd went against the flow of people and struggled to push their way onto the stage.

The commotion did not include the chief shaman in the center, wearing a golden mask, who was still chanting, his voice solemn and dignified, the rhythm ancient as if it were the beginning of heaven and earth. He slowly sat down in the center of the stage, reached into his robes, and when he came out, there was a gleaming dagger. Then, he grabbed his hair with one hand and, with the other, slashed down heavily.

Even the most oblivious audience members started screaming.

With a "bang," a cannon salute shot into the sky from the upper floor of the convention center, bursting into colorful fireworks. Then, all the lights in the convention center illuminated, and the replica of the Mansi Tomb shone brightly like the Big Dipper, just as Huang Yisen described it—a palace in the sky.

The fireworks illuminated the fleeing audience around the stage, the police officers who rushed to maintain order, and the dozen or so plainclothes officers who had already surrounded the stage. The fireworks also shone on the empty stage, on which lay a corpse and the head of a person wearing a golden mask.

Humans believed that the best way to communicate with the gods was through sacrifice.

There is no offering more precious than a human head.

Note: The legend of Meijianchi's revenge is recorded in the *Lieyi Zhuan*, traditionally attributed to Cao Pi of Wei, as follows: Gan Jiang and Moye forged swords for the King of Chu, completing them after three years. The swords were male and female, renowned weapons of the world. They presented the female sword to the king, keeping the male. Gan Jiang told his wife, "I have hidden the sword on the shady side of the southern mountain and the sunny side of the northern mountain; a pine tree grows on a rock, and the sword is there. If the king awakens, kill me, and you will give birth to a son to tell him." When the king awoke, he killed Gan Jiang. His wife later gave birth to a son named Chibi, and told him everything. Chibi chopped at the pine tree on the southern mountain but could not find the sword. He then searched for it in a house pillar and found it. The King of Jin dreamed of a man with eyebrows three inches wide, who wished to take revenge. Desperate for revenge, he fled to Zhuxing Mountain. He met a guest and, wanting to avenge him, cut his head, intending to present it to the King of Jin. The guest ordered it boiled in a cauldron, but the head twitched for three days without decaying. When you went to see it, the guest leaned his sword against you, and your head fell into the cauldron. The guest then committed suicide. All three heads were rotten and could not be distinguished. They were buried separately and named "The Tomb of the Three Kings".

ending

A knocking sound came from the door.

Xu Haicheng, who was lying on the sofa, shuffled to the door in his slippers, still holding a book in his hand. He was taken aback when he saw Pan Xiaolu and asked, "Why are you here?"

Pan Xiaolu followed him into the house, closing the door behind her, and said, "Xu, don't you welcome me? I'm here on behalf of Director Chen to inform you that you've been reinstated and will be back at work tomorrow."

Xu Haicheng gestured for her to sit on the sofa, poured her a glass of water, and said, "A phone call would have sufficed; there was no need for you to come all this way."

Pan Xiaolu shook her head and said, "They probably left when there were a lot of people around. It's a real pity we never got to see what kind of head was in the wooden box." Then, seeing that Xu Haicheng was holding Lu Xun's *The Sword Casting*, she immediately laughed, "You still haven't figured it out?"

"Yes, I still can't believe it." Xu Haicheng put down his book, still feeling like he was dreaming as he recalled the experience. "I always felt this should be a legend, a myth..."

Recalling the scene that day, Pan Xiaolu also felt a dreamlike sense of distance. "I also find it a bit unbelievable, but I saw it with my own eyes. It was just floating in the air like that... Perhaps the story of the Eyebrow Ruler is not a legend or a myth, but something from the ancient past. Perhaps there really is such witchcraft, and the story of the Eyebrow Ruler is also true."

Xu Haicheng frowned and said, "I just can't understand how it flew in from outside the wall to kill people and then flew back."

“Maybe it has wings, or maybe it’s controlled by a wizard’s mind,” Pan Xiaolu said. “I’ve heard that there’s a kind of black magic in South Asia where a human head can fly with its intestines and stomach attached…” She felt disgusted as she said this and couldn’t continue.

“I absolutely do not believe that,” Xu Haicheng said after thinking for a moment. “However, I have heard that the Mansi tribe once established a kingdom based on shamanism and sent shamans to various places to spread their teachings. Perhaps the legend of black magic in South Asia is just a story like the one about the 'eyebrow-shaped ruler' that has been passed down through generations.”

"I'm thinking, maybe its body looks like a human head..."

Xu Haicheng's heart skipped a beat, recalling what Lu Mingjie had said: that the place was full of deformed and monstrous birthmarks, a veritable hell on earth, or perhaps this human head was also a form of deformity.

"Fortunately, those leaders were sitting next to Yu Congrong at the time, otherwise they would have thought we couldn't solve the case and made it up."

Thinking of those city leaders, Xu Haicheng chuckled. That time, they were truly terrified; it was said that one of the leaders even wet his pants. He placed the book on the sofa and watched the snowflakes falling outside the window. It probably wouldn't snow where Fang Li was; the temperature there was constant year-round.

Pan Xiaolu looked at his expression and suddenly softened. She was stunned for a moment, feeling as if she had been bitten by an insect in her heart. Suddenly, she had an impulse and said, "Captain Xu, I like you."

Xu Haicheng was stunned for a moment, then turned to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright and beautiful. Thinking he hadn't heard her clearly, she repeated herself defiantly, "I said I like you."

Xu Haicheng smiled and said, "Xiao Lu, I like you very much too..."

Pan Xiaolu's already bright eyes became even brighter, like the morning star.

“You are a very good girl, lively, cheerful and unpretentious, but…” Xu Haicheng didn’t say anything more, turning his head to look at the photos on the cabinet.

Upon hearing this, Pan Xiaolu's eyes seemed to lose their light, turning into two dark dots. She followed his gaze to the photo, in which the young Xu Haicheng's gaze, though somewhat elusive, was fixed on Fang Li.

"You're going to find her, aren't you?"

"yes."

"I really envy her."

“You won’t envy her. She was abandoned in a foreign land when she was young and was always bullied in the orphanage. At first, her only friend was a canna lily, until she met me.”

"You love her because she's pitiful?"