The Curtain Rises at Midnight

The Guanghe Opera Troupe has one ironclad rule: never strike the gong at midnight.

Because the performance at twelve isn’t meant for human eyes.

When Lin Nian woke, she was standing before an abandoned opera stage from the Republican era. The gong had sounded, and the show had begun.

Her teammates told her that the last team to enter this instance had all died during the third act.

And their bodies were sitting in the audience.

The opera was still going. They were still listening.