Chapter 79: Onstage and Offstage

As soon as he got into the carriage, a brass hand warmer was handed over to him.

Zhou Sen was momentarily taken aback.

“For me?”

“If you don’t want it, give it back to me?” Bai Yulan pretended to take it away, but Zhou Sen wouldn’t let her. He grabbed it at once.

The hand warmer was small, but it warmed the heart.

Wu En drove the carriage quickly and steadily, and before long, they arrived at the entrance of the New Theater on North Third Street. With a pull of the reins, the carriage stopped.

“You two head to the second-floor VIP box. Wu En and I will go to the public seats downstairs.” Zhou Sen handed the brass hand warmer back.

Bai Yulan nodded. At this point, she and Zhou Sen still needed to keep a low profile to avoid provoking Su Wenqing and Old Qin.

Old Qin might not do anything, but Su Wenqing definitely would.

After Bai Yulan and Ah Xiang got out of the carriage, Zhou Sen instructed Wu En to move the carriage forward a bit and found a paid keeper to watch over it. There were always people around the theater willing to keep an eye on carriages for a fee—just street folk making a living, but their reputation was solid.

The show started at two, but it was only half past one, and already a crowd had gathered at the theater entrance, all discussing today’s performance by Xiao Xiangning. The large poster at the door listed the afternoon’s program and a preview of tomorrow’s lineup.

On the poster, a classical beauty in opera costume with her face half-veiled was painted in fine detail, lifelike and captivating. Combined with an introduction to Xiao Xiangning’s past performances, it drew a large audience.

Zhou Sen lingered in the crowd before the poster for quite a while, letting out a silent sigh.

He could be almost certain that Xiao Xiangning was the little girl who used to trail behind him with a runny nose. In the blink of an eye, fourteen or fifteen years had passed.

He had nearly forgotten about her.

His former self had been truly heartless.

“Brother, the show’s about to start—let’s go in?” Wu En urged excitedly. To him, spending money to see an opera in the theater was a rare luxury. If it were up to him, he would never have spent the money.

Zhou Sen nodded, straightened his clothes a bit. Today, he hadn’t worn his woolen overcoat, fearing it would draw attention. Instead, he wore a velvet skullcap and a long cotton robe—just an average commoner.

Although they were in the public seats, Bai Yulan had arranged for the tickets, so their seats were still quite close to the stage.

Upstairs, the small private rooms were the VIP boxes. With no one to disturb them and better comfort and service, the boxes were pleasant, but in terms of proximity to the actors, they couldn’t compare to the front rows of the public seats.

The entire theater was packed, with even temporary seats added along the aisles, a testament to the popularity of this Xiao Xiangning.

Clang!

With a crisp beat of the gong, the show began.

The opening act was a warm-up: seven or eight martial actors in tight costumes tumbled across the stage, brandishing swords and spears, creating a lively and dazzling scene that drew rounds of applause and cheers from the audience.

The atmosphere ignited instantly.

This afternoon’s program was one of the classic Pingju operas, “The Fourth Son Visits His Mother.” Xiao Xiangning played Princess Iron Mirror, Yang Silang (Yang Yanhui) was played by Lu Xiaolou. These two were the leads, with other supporting actors—Xiao Yuehong played She Taijun…

The first scene: “Sitting in the Palace.”

First on stage was the old-sheng, Lu Xiaolou, playing Yang Silang, Yang Yanhui.

“Golden well locks the parasol tree, sighing long as the wind sighs alone!”

Then he recited, “I am Prince Silang, Yanhui. My father, the Valiant Lord with the golden blade, my mother, Lady She Taijun. Fifteen years ago, at the Sandbank Gathering, I was captured. Thanks to Empress Xiao’s mercy, my life was spared…”

Though there were no loudspeakers like in later generations, you could hear every word the actor said from the audience.

Such was the basic skill of an opera performer.

His former self simply couldn’t endure such hardship. Coupled with abuse and humiliation, he couldn’t bear it and ran away in secret.

He had actually wanted to take Jiang Rou with him, but she was too young. He could barely ensure his own survival; with another to care for, neither might have lived…

Technically, his indenture was still with Sun Qingkui—if it hadn’t been lost. He’d have to find an opportunity to recover it.

Traditional opera was hard to appreciate, but in this era, with few forms of entertainment and a populace starved for spiritual nourishment, opera was one of the few means that combined entertainment with moral instruction. Thus, it was deeply loved by the people, giving rise to numerous regional forms and the national treasure that was Peking Opera.

If you listened closely, you could discover its subtle charm—an allure in the language and singing style only a Chinese audience could truly appreciate.

Lu Xiaolou’s singing was solid; his recitation clear and precise. The audience frequently burst into applause and cheers.

But Zhou Sen was most interested in Xiao Xiangning’s entrance.

At last, the curtain lifted, and a classical beauty with rouged cheeks and powdered face appeared in a simple blue dress, as if she had stepped out of a painting. Her glances were radiant; every expression, every smile, was gentle and charming, yet with a hint of heroic spirit.

Her very first appearance won thunderous applause!

Even Zhou Sen couldn’t help but call out. The image of the “little snot-nosed girl” in his memory overlapped with the Xiao Xiangning on stage.

The gates of memory swung open. Zhou Sen lost control for a moment; his eyes reddened.

She had endured what he could not and transformed at last into the dazzling Xiao Xiangning commanding the stage.

It was, in truth, something to be happy about.

The performance lasted over two hours, and Zhou Sen stayed for the entire show—something he’d never imagined he would do.

When the show ended, all the actors returned to the stage to bow. The audience rose from their seats, standing and applauding in a long, unending ovation.

This was the greatest recognition and highest praise an actor could receive.

After the show, Wu En went to fetch the carriage, while Zhou Sen stood alone across the street, took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag, calming his emotions once more.

A figure passed by him, and that familiar scent drifted past.

Truly, a persistent shadow!

Zhou Sen cursed inwardly but could only pretend to notice nothing.

Soon, his cigarette burned to the end. Wu En arrived with the carriage, Bai Yulan and Ah Xiang climbed aboard, and they came to fetch him.

Zhou Sen flicked away his cigarette and hopped onto the coachman’s seat beside Wu En. Smelling of smoke, he thought it best not to sit inside.

Not long after Zhou Sen boarded, the old posters on the theater’s bulletin board were suddenly covered by a new, striking notice.

“Generous reward: seeking my long-lost brother, about twenty-four or five years old, lost at age ten, wearing a gray cotton jacket and blue cotton pants with patches…”

This notice immediately drew a crowd, but the key point was that it was handwritten by the rising star, Xiao Xiangning, herself.

In other words, the person seeking her lost brother was Xiao Xiangning.

This was big news.

Not only was there a handsome reward for finding him, but even those providing leads would be rewarded—at the very least, with a ticket to Xiao Xiangning’s performance.

For those who couldn’t afford a ticket but longed to attend the opera, this was a chance to get in.

So, Xiao Xiangning’s search for her relative quickly spread throughout the Daowai district.

Zhou Sen knew nothing of this. After escorting Bai Yulan and Ah Xiang back to the Fragrant Pavilion, he didn’t linger, heading home himself just in time to catch the last tram and spare himself a long walk.

When he got home, it was just about dinner time. He ate a little of Irina’s carefully prepared meal.

After a bath, he went straight to bed. It had been an exhausting day.

…

“Lan, are we really going to give Xiao Xiangning a gift?” In the study of Bai Yulan’s small building at the Fragrant Pavilion, Ah Xiang asked in surprise after receiving Bai Yulan’s instructions.

“It’s not exactly a gift—just a way to say hello, to establish a connection. Our teahouse can’t compare to a theater like the New Stage, but if we could invite her to sing a piece or two, it would be a great boon to our business,” Bai Yulan was already making plans for the teahouse’s future.

“I see, Lan, but what should we give?”

“If we’re going to give something, it must be unique—something no one else has,” Bai Yulan said. “Do we have any of the pastries Zhou Sen made today? Let’s send her a box.”

“Great idea! Brother Sen’s pastries are delicious, and ours are one of a kind.”

“Good. First thing tomorrow, go to the New Stage and take care of this for me,” Bai Yulan instructed.

“Understood, Lan.”

…

“Musashino”—a Japanese restaurant.

Inside a private room, separated by a screen, another person could be seen, kneeling calmly and sipping sake.

Another figure knelt behind, bowing low on the straw mat. Judging by her size, she was likely a woman.

“So, have you formed an opinion?” The man drinking set down his sake cup and asked in Japanese.

“Sir, he seems to have no intention of inheriting Mr. Anthony’s cause. Now his heart is set on being with Lady Bai of the Fragrant Pavilion.”

“Do you think he is deliberately avoiding it, or does he truly refuse to take over the ‘Pastor’s’ work?” The man’s lips curled.

“In my view, sir, it’s mostly the latter. He is Manchurian by birth—his lack of interest in the restoration of the Russian Empire is understandable.” The woman never raised her head.

“Then what method do you think could make him willingly work for me?” the man asked.

“I believe, sir, you could start with Bai Yulan of the Fragrant Pavilion, to pressure him into agreeing,” the woman replied softly.

“Do you have a plan?”

“No, but we can arrange a meeting first. After all, we want him to serve us willingly. If he develops a rebellious attitude toward us, it will harm our future efforts.”

“Explain your reasoning.”

“Judging by his shifting attitude toward Miss Kim Soyoung, he is a man of strong likes and dislikes.”

“So, I can conclude that he is somewhat emotional?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Anthony protected him well—that is why,” the woman explained.

“Very well, we’ll do as you suggest. I’ll make the arrangements,” the man considered briefly before agreeing.

“Should I continue following him?”

“He hasn’t noticed you, has he?”

“Not so far, sir,” the woman replied after a brief pause.

“Then continue.”

“Hai.”