This place still resembled a museum.
However, what was archived here was not compact discs or cassette tapes, but rather meticulously bound scripts. Countless scripts were neatly arranged, extending forward by category and chronological order, reaching a point beyond the visible horizon.
What surprised Chen Ling, however, wasn't the scripts themselves, but the wooden cabinets that held them.
Chen Ling walked up to one of the wooden cabinets, extended a hand, and slowly ran his fingers across its surface, as if feeling its texture. His brows furrowed unconsciously.
They were so similar.
The cabinets used to store scripts here were identical to those that held plays in the theater from his memories!
Chen Ling couldn't find any difference in size, appearance, or feel. Were they the same cabinets? Or some kind of replica? If they were replicas, who had copied whom?
Subconsciously, Chen Ling pulled out a script and began to leaf through it. This script was also remarkably similar to the plays in his mind, with comparable fonts and margins. However, these scripts clearly had a sense of age, immediately identifiable as old artifacts.
To call all this a coincidence would be far-fetched. Yet, after careful thought, Chen Ling concluded they couldn't be the same, as the ones in his mind were ethereal, while these cabinets had likely existed for centuries. Replicas, however, were a possibility.
"This is the script section," Ning Ruyu said, seeing Chen Ling's keen interest.
"From the dawn of writing, all forms of textual performance—plays, storytelling drafts, cross-talk scripts, poetry, theatrical scripts, song lyrics, and so on—anything recorded in written form, can be found here.
Compared to the previous two areas, this section covers the largest historical span, extending back thousands of years.
Every manuscript here bears witness to the rise and fall of an era. Whether it's a war that determined the fate of a dynasty or whispered declarations of love between neighbors, all are preserved here.
These performances, intertwined, form a complete picture of an era."
Chen Ling now understood the general structure of the Ancient Archives of Theatre.
From audio-visual recordings, to pure audio, and finally to written performances—the deeper one went into the Ancient Archives of Theatre, the further back in time one could trace, and the richer the history they contained.
Chen Ling walked among the bookshelves, his gaze sweeping over rows of play titles. Among them were classic pieces he recognized, as well as unheard-of, rare manuscripts. Deeper inside, bound books transformed into loose pages, and then into bamboo slips.
Further in, Chen Ling couldn't even decipher the characters written on them.
Just then, Chen Ling seemed to notice something and asked, perplexed:
"Senior Brother, is something missing here?"
"What?"
"Opera scripts." Chen Ling looked around. "Roles like Sheng, Dan, Jing, Mo, Chou... I haven't seen a single script related to them. Don't they also fall under the category of books?"
Ning Ruyu paused, then smiled.
"Oh, those are kept elsewhere."
"Oh..."
"Actually, the Ancient Archives of Theatre are vast, with many more areas than just this. Today, I'm mainly showing you the principal parts; you can explore the rest on your own later."
Ning Ruyu checked the time, then turned to Chen Ling.
"Junior Brother, your living quarters are just ahead. Follow me."
This time, Ning Ruyu didn't part a "curtain" but walked directly to a wall and pushed it firmly backward.
A creak sounded.
A large door materialized in the wall and slowly swung open as Ning Ruyu pushed it.
A gentle breeze, carrying the scent of earth, swept over them. In the enclosed museum, it instantly invigorated Chen Ling, and a look of astonishment appeared on his face when he saw what lay beyond the door.
Beyond the large door was a spacious outdoor area.
Under a clear blue sky, white clouds drifted lazily. Distant snow-capped mountains resembled crystalline dragons coiled upon the land. On the lush green grassland, colorful flags fluttered in the wind, and several exquisite small houses nestled among them.
Chen Ling was momentarily mesmerized by the sight: blue sky, snowy mountains, colorful flags, houses... It was like a scene from a dream.
He had expected the Ancient Archives of Theatre to mostly contain museum-like exhibits, but he never imagined such a place existed here.
"What do you think? The environment's not bad, is it?" Ning Ruyu asked, walking up beside him with a smile.
"Do you all usually live here?"
"Yes, we do."
Ning Ruyu raised a hand and pointed to the houses. "The easternmost one is mine, the one next to it is Third Brother's, Fourth Sister's is to the north, Second Brother's to the west, and Fifth Brother's to the south... However, he always has to guard Chou Peak, so he probably rarely stays here."
"What about me?"
"The newest one in the middle is yours. Third Brother and the others just finished building it."
"That fast?"
"Do you remember what I said? The Ancient Archives of Theatre are an omnipotent stage."
Ning Ruyu smiled and led Chen Ling directly toward the houses.
Although not large, these houses appeared very refined and comfortable. Their thick walls perfectly insulated them from external temperature fluctuations between day and night. Each house also had a small courtyard, with a sign by the gate displaying four large characters:
"Sixth Brother's Home."
Chen Ling was momentarily speechless.
"Please thank my Senior Brothers and Sisters for me." Although the four characters struck him as a bit odd, Chen Ling spoke with genuine gratitude.
"Just settle in for now. If you need anything, let me know... Also, Third Brother cooks, so don't hesitate to go to his place with your bowl and chopsticks when it's mealtime."
Chen Ling nodded, then seemed to remember something.
"By the way, where's Master's house?"
"Master doesn't live here... He's deeper within the Ancient Archives of Theatre."
Ning Ruyu paused, then added, "Of course, he'll still happily show up with his bowl and chopsticks when it's mealtime."
After giving his instructions, Ning Ruyu bid Chen Ling farewell and turned to leave.
Chen Ling walked around the house and found that all essential living items were present. The bed had even been made, and the entire house, inside and out, looked brand new.
A complex emotion flickered in Chen Ling's eyes at the sight.
He didn't know how Third Brother and the others had built this house so quickly. Perhaps, with the power of the Ancient Archives of Theatre, it was a simple feat. Yet, the gesture itself held profound meaning for Chen Ling.
Chen Ling entered the bedroom and naturally lay back on the bed, his large red opera robe spreading across the pristine white sheets. He gazed at the white ceiling above, falling into silence.
After an unknown period, he murmured, somewhat uncertainly:
"In this era... I guess I finally have a place to settle down?"
[5 seconds from now] Chapter 427: Collapse and Disintegration
[3 minutes ago] Chapter 527: Thrown Across the River
[3 minutes ago] Chapter 1250: Farewell, Spiritual Lord
[4 minutes ago] Chapter 263: 迷剑之狐
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