A church meeting without an audience resumed after a hundred years.
In the 22nd year of Guangxu's reign, in Prince Gong's Mansion, the Desheng Troupe's finale drama "Lin Chong's Night Run" was performed. Halfway through the singing on the stage, Jiao'er suddenly froze - eyes open, mouth open, hand pressed on the hilt of the sword, motionless. The body is cold, like a piece of ice frozen from the inside out. The cause of death could not be determined, and only one line was left on the class score: "The body has not fallen down."
A hundred years later, on the dilapidated stage in Huaiyu Village, Wu Shengyou Qingyi was forced to put on Lin Chong's outfit again. The gongs and drums sounded, and the audience was filled with "people"—faceless "people" wearing official uniforms of the Qing Dynasty. Their fingers were growing, something was crawling under their skin, and the air was filled with the sweet smell of rotting flesh and agarwood.
The drama cannot stop.
But something woke up in You Qingyi's body.
It was a soul trapped in "Night Run" for a hundred years, a memory soaked in blood and resentment, and a betrayal between master and disciple with their lives as a bet. When the oil paint began to swim on the face on its own, and when the reflection in the mirror no longer obeyed the command, You Qingyi discovered that she was just the latest sacrifice in this century-old ghost show——
But the real character has not yet appeared.
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"Are you Zhaojunyue? The famous actress who died in Prince Gong's Mansion?"
"No. I am the remnant of his soul when he escaped. I am the thief who has taken his name and survived to this day."
"Then what are you going to do now?"
"Sing this unfinished play, finish it."
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The blood on the stage cannot be washed away in a hundred years.
Purpose: Clear away the fog and let the truth be revealed to the world. The deepest abyss in the world is the human heart...