“That’s no ordinary opera singing. You’re summoning a god!”
In the mourning hall, candlelight flickered faintly. Seated below were not living people, but thirty-six paper figures with painted red cheeks and eerie smiles.
The real master of the coffin was grinding its teeth, waiting for Chen Xuan to get even one word wrong so it could burst out and feast.
With death only a heartbeat away, Chen Xuan could only open the opera chest called [Taixu] and tremblingly press a gold-and-red mask against his face.
The next moment, his back straightened, and two flames of savage gold ignited in his once-timid eyes!
The mourning staff in his hand became the phantom image of a pillar that could steady the sea, and one swing smashed the man-eating coffin lid to pieces!
“Demon! Open your dog eyes and take a good look. Do you know who I am?!”
That year, the Great Qian Dynasty teetered amid chaos. The gods and Buddhas above fed on humans, treating all living beings as players on a stage.
That year, Chen Xuan transmigrated into the body of a short-lived opera troupe leader. To stay alive, he had no choice but to perform every god and demon in the myriad heavens with a mortal’s body.
