Chapter 403: True Self Mirror

Just now, Chen Ling still harbored doubts. Most first-tier skills of the Path of Theatrical Gods involve the "Thousand Faces" ability, where changing faces is a fundamental, essential skill. Given this, the existence of this wall seemed rather redundant for practitioners of the Path of Theatrical Gods.

Its only potential use, perhaps, was to retrieve the faces of people one had never seen and wear them. However, doing so would require a long journey back to the Ancient Archive of Theatrical Arts, specifically to this location.

Yet, when he had previously affixed a face to his own, changing his identity, he hadn't activated "Formless." This suggested that these "faces" possessed an inherent disguising effect, requiring no mental power or skill enhancement whatsoever.

Did this mean that even ordinary people could transform into the corresponding appearance simply by wearing one of these faces?

Chen Ling suddenly recalled the last face, hidden deep within, that he had peeled off at the Starfall Merchant Guild. That particular face had been placed on him by his master, back when he had not yet embarked on the Path of Theatrical Gods.

Therefore...

Chen Ling's eyes flickered. With a mere thought, the countless "faces" before him began to shift rapidly once more. He was searching for his own face—the face of "Chen Ling."

However, when the faces on the wall finally settled, the central position remained conspicuously empty. Even after scouring the "face library," he couldn't find his own face. Someone had taken it beforehand.

Chen Ling rubbed his chin, his expression a mix of emotions. Without a doubt, that face had been taken by his master, and it had previously been on his own person. This implied that no matter who he believed himself to be, this body was certainly not "Chen Ling's."

"So, am I 'Chen Ling' or 'Chen Yan'?" Chen Ling's conviction wavered once more.

Just then, a line of small text floated up from the wall: "Face library storage detected as empty. Refill?"

Chen Ling was momentarily taken aback, apparently not having expected the "face district" to allow refilling of faces. Gazing at the empty space in the center of the wall, he hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes."

The next moment, another "Chen Ling" face began to reform on the wall, occupying its original position within mere seconds.

Chen Ling reached out, peeled his own face from the wall, and tucked it into his pocket for safekeeping. After all, this item worked without requiring any skills, providing him with at least one more opportunity to change his identity and escape should he ever encounter trouble.

After completing these actions, Chen Ling surveyed his surroundings and approached the dressing room's sole exit.

"The Face District isn't very large; he must be in here," Chen Ling murmured to himself. As far as Chen Ling could perceive, the Face District covered only a few hundred square meters. Aside from this dressing room, the remaining areas were likely beyond this door. He had pursued the Jester here but hadn't found him inside the dressing room, indicating the Jester was most likely concealed in the area behind the door.

Without much hesitation, Chen Ling grasped the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open.

Creeeeak—

As the ancient door groaned open, a faint wispy dust drifted from behind it, revealing pitch darkness to Chen Ling. While the dressing room at least had light from the makeup mirror, the area beyond the door was like a long-abandoned warehouse; not only was there no light, but it also carried the musty scent of old wood, akin to an attic in an old house.

Chen Ling, utilizing the authority of the Ancient Archive of Theatrical Arts, gently waved his hand in the void, and a kerosene lamp materialized in his palm. The orange glow cast light into a corner of the darkness as Chen Ling navigated the warehouse, his gaze sweeping for something. All he saw were mostly discarded tables and chairs or shattered mirrors.

"Is this really a warehouse?" Chen Ling murmured.

Chen Ling found no trace of the Jester, uncertain where he might be hiding. As Chen Ling ventured deeper, he seemed to reach the very end of the warehouse.

The dim lamplight flickered, gradually outlining a massive black shape. Chen Ling's gaze was drawn to it, his eyes narrowing slightly. It was an object, roughly two meters tall and square-shaped, shrouded beneath a black curtain. Peeking out from its left and right sides were two columns of ancient script:—A hundred faces, a thousand guises, myriad people;—One life, one world, one true self.Above this, four large characters were inscribed horizontally:—Shatter Delusion, Return to Truth.

Chen Ling gazed at the object with a puzzled expression. From its outline, it resembled either a door or a mirror. Given its storage in this warehouse, it had likely remained unused for a considerable time.

"'Shatter Delusion, Return to Truth'... what is this for?" Chen Ling pondered aloud.

Chen Ling raised his hand to pull back the black curtain covering the object, but then hesitated and withdrew it. He had never been overly curious. Since this item had been sealed away by his master and senior brothers, there was no need for him to carelessly pull back the curtain. What if something dangerous lay behind it? He didn't want to put himself at risk.

Just as Chen Ling turned to leave, an unexpected change occurred. Whoosh— A sudden gust of wind, from an unknown source, swept through the narrow warehouse, causing the black curtain covering the object to billow and slowly slide down.

Chen Ling froze, instinctively turning his head to look back.

The orange glow of a kerosene lamp reflected from the distant darkness, revealing a blurry figure holding a lamp, slowly turning its head in perfect sync with Chen Ling. The sudden appearance of both the wind and the figure made Chen Ling instinctively tense up, but after a moment, he relaxed.

"'So it's a mirror.' Two voices spoke simultaneously."

Chen Ling froze, a sudden chill creeping up his spine. He stared intently at the figure holding the kerosene lamp in the distant darkness, standing utterly motionless like a statue. A deathly silence suddenly fell over the surroundings. Could this mirror actually *speak*? If it were merely a mirror capable of imitating sounds, Chen Ling wouldn't find it particularly strange; the Ancient Archive of Theatrical Arts was filled with wonders, so such an object wouldn't be out of place. However, what truly made his hair stand on end was a different reason: the *other* voice that had just spoken was not his. The two voices had overlapped so perfectly that even Chen Ling couldn't clearly distinguish them, yet he was certain that one of them wasn't his own, and he even detected a hint of familiarity within that voice.

Chen Ling stared intently at the figure in the darkness, and the figure stared back at him just as intensely, appearing no different from a reflection in a mirror.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Chen Ling finally made up his mind. Holding the kerosene lamp, he slowly advanced.

Simultaneously, the figure, also holding a kerosene lamp, moved towards him at the exact same pace.

The two halos of kerosene lamplight gradually merged. When Chen Ling finally discerned the red-clad figure approaching him, his pupils suddenly constricted.

"A-Yan?!"