Hundred Flowers Pavilion.
Dozens of draped carriages had jammed into the hidden corridors of the Hundred Flowers Pavilion early on.
Xue Hong had specifically changed into a crimson gold-woven gown for tonight. The pure gold tassel hairpin on her head swayed with her steps, making hearts flutter.
Behind her followed Cousin-in-law Wang and her entourage, each of their faces bearing the excitement of women ready to throw caution to the wind and party hard tonight.
The bank notes in their hands were even thicker than last night.
"Sisters, are you all ready?"
Xue Hong lowered her voice as she walked inside, her eyes and brows filled with uncontainable restlessness.
"We didn't get to touch his hands yesterday, so today we've booked all the front row seats! If that Young Master Xu dares to strip again, we will..."
She made a fierce grabbing motion, drawing a burst of roaring laughter from behind her.
However, when the doors bearing the Heaven Number One sign were pushed open,
the smile on Xue Hong's face froze.
The entire main hall of the Hundred Flowers Pavilion had changed.
The red gauze curtains from last night were gone, and that intoxicating scent of camphor was also missing.
It was replaced by a solemn gray-blue hue.
The tables previously filled with wine and dishes had all been removed, replaced by simple low rosewood desks.
On the desks sat only a solitary pot of clear tea and two plates of bland mung bean cakes. There wasn't a hint of meat or rich food in sight.
Worst of all, the entire hall gave off the vibe of an academy's library pavilion, exceptionally rigid and dull.
Desolate and oppressive.
"Did... did we walk through the wrong door?"
Cousin-in-law Wang rubbed her eyes, looking around in utter confusion.
"It didn't look like this yesterday! Where are those shirtless muscular men? Where is that massive drum that could shake a person's soul out of their body?"
Xue Hong's face darkened.
She felt as if a basin of cold water had been poured over her head, instantly extinguishing the flames that had just ignited.
"Where is Manager Li? Call him out here for me!"
Xue Hong slammed her hand on the table, shaking the pot of clear tea.
Li Sheng emerged from some unknown corner.
He had also changed his outfit tonight. Instead of his martial attire, he had slipped into a refined long scholar's robe.
Worn on his burly frame, it looked incredibly awkward.
"Oh my, Madam Xue, what's the matter? Such a big temper, don't hurt your liver."
Li Sheng cupped his hands with a beaming smile, looking very punchable.
"Cut the crap!"
Xue Hong pointed at the pot of clear tea, her delicate brows furrowed in anger.
"We want to see clothes being torn! We want the wild version! What is the meaning of giving us this pot of bitter water?"
"We paid for this! An entrance fee of one hundred taels per person! And you just give us this to eat?"
The noble ladies behind her also exploded, clamoring in agreement.
"Exactly! Refund our money!"
"Bring Young Master Xu out! We want to see him wear leather pants!"
Li Sheng was not in a hurry. He slowly straightened his back, the expression on his face somewhat unfathomable.
"Ladies, please calm down."
He cleared his throat and wagged a finger.
"Last night was an action play. You ate meat, drank wine, and sought a thrill."
"But what kind of place is our Hundred Flowers Pavilion? It is the most elegant and tasteful venue in Jiangning."
"If it were just white flesh every day, that would be a low-class business, wouldn't that insult the status of you ladies?"
Li Sheng paused, his gaze sweeping over every restless woman present, his voice lowering a notch.
"Tonight, we are doing something high-class."
"We aren't looking at flesh. We are... looking at the heart."
Xue Hong was stunned. "Looking at the heart? What's so good about looking at a heart? Can it be touched?"
Li Sheng smiled mysteriously and didn't explain further, merely clapping his hands.
"Lights out!"
With a swoosh.
The already dim hall plunged into complete darkness.
Only the very center of the stage lit up with a pale white light.
The light was bone-chillingly cold, making the onlookers' hearts shiver.
This eerie atmosphere made the previously noisy noble ladies subconsciously shut their mouths, shrinking their necks back.
Immediately after, the mournful sound of a flute drifted out from an unknown corner.
Unlike the passionate drumbeats of last night, this flute melody was melodious yet desolate.
Under the beam of light, a figure slowly walked out.
The moment she saw the person clearly, Xue Hong almost crushed the teacup in her hand.
"Is... is this Young Master Xu?!"
In the center of the stage, Xu Zijin's leather pants were gone, and so were the muscles glistening with essential oils.
He wore a washed-out blue scholar's robe, with two patches sewn onto the shoulders.
His hair was casually tied up with a wooden hairpin, a few strands falling over his forehead, making him look somewhat down and out.
He just stood there quietly, holding a scroll in his hand. His back was perfectly straight, yet he exuded an indescribable sense of desolation.
How was this the wild beast from last night?
This was clearly just a destitute scholar you could grab by the handfuls on the street!
"What is going on!"
Cousin-in-law Wang muttered in dissatisfaction, "What's so good about looking at this poor sap? Even the accountant at my house dresses more decently than him!"
"Exactly! I want a refund! This is practically a scam!"
Boos instantly erupted from the audience.
Some of the more impatient ones had even stood up, ready to leave.
In a private room on the second floor.
Xu Qinghuan leaned against a soft couch, peeling a grape in her hand. Listening to the commotion downstairs, a cold sneer tugged at the corner of her lips.
"What's the rush."
"The good show has only just begun."
Just as the audience was in chaos, Xu Zijin on the stage moved.
He ignored the boos; his entire being was already immersed in another world.
He slowly raised his head, looking at a point in the void.
Those eyes that were always cast downward were now astonishingly bright.
It was a yearning that had been suppressed for too long, a cry of defiance against fate.
"Virtuous younger brother Yingtai..."
A soft call escaped from his lips.
It instantly overpowered the noise from the audience.
There was no trace of seduction in that voice, only the pure spirit of youth.
Immediately after, a figure dressed in men's clothing, yet unable to hide the delicate charm in her eyes and brows, ran out from the side wing.
It was Nianyun.
Tonight, she was cross-dressing as Zhu Yingtai. Wearing a moon-white long gown and holding a folding fan, even though she was in men's clothing, she exuded a girlish agility.
"Brother Liang!"
Nianyun's shout was crisp and melodious, carrying a bit of playful scolding and a bit of joy.
The two looked at each other and smiled on stage.
That smile made the gloomy Hundred Flowers Pavilion seem a bit brighter.
The boos from the audience inexplicably died down.
Xue Hong was originally about to stand up and curse, but seeing Xu Zijin's gaze, for some unknown reason, her heart was gently struck by something.
That gaze... was too clean.
It reminded her of many years ago, before she married into the Xue family, of the young man next door who would blush as he handed her a poetry collection.
"What... what play is this?"
Xue Hong sat back down, but her gaze was somewhat fixed.
The plot on stage progressed extremely fast.
There was no lengthy buildup; it went straight into the three years of camaraderie as classmates at the academy.
Xu Zijin's acting skills completely erupted at this moment.
He was no longer the top courtesan forced to entertain; he was Liang Shanbo, a foolish scholar of great talent but humble origins, who could only struggle to survive in the cracks.
He ground ink on stage; he studied hard under the lamp.
The cautious affection he showed when looking at Zhu Yingtai, that restraint of wanting to touch but pulling his hand back.
Every look, every subtle movement, frantically tugged at the nerves of the audience below the stage.
"This fool..."
Cousin-in-law Wang looked at Xu Zijin on the stage, who was soaked to the bone trying to shield Zhu Yingtai from the rain but still smiling foolishly, and couldn't help but curse.
But after cursing, she felt her eyes grow a little sore.
How was this just acting?
This was clearly portraying the little bit of longing buried deep in the bottom of each of their hearts by reality!
Who hadn't dreamed of brilliant scholars and beautiful ladies in their youth?
Who hadn't hoped for a fool who wouldn't care about family background or dowries, but only cared about you, treating you well with a foolish devotion?
Unfortunately, the dream had ended.
They had married into wealthy, powerful families, becoming canaries in gilded cages and tools for family alliances.
That young man who would brave the rain to bring them an umbrella had long died in their memories.
The hall fell completely silent.
Even their breathing became cautious.
Everyone stared at that lean figure on the stage, watching him rejoice, watching him sorrow.
Without realizing it, the handkerchief in Xue Hong's hands had been twisted out of shape.
Just then, the plot took a sharp turn for the worse.
During the eighteen miles of seeing each other off, Zhu Yingtai hinted at pledging her life to him, yet that foolish Brother Liang was still calling her his sworn brother.
"You idiot! She is a woman!"
A noblewoman below slapped her thigh in anxiety, wishing she could rush up and shake Xu Zijin awake.
But immediately after, the news of the Zhu family forcing a marriage arrived.
Ma Wencai, the powerful son of the prefect, was going to take Zhu Yingtai by force.
At that moment, Xu Zijin stood on the stage.
The scroll in his hands fell to the ground.
Drained of all strength, he slumped back into a worn-out chair.
He did not cry, nor did he make a fuss.
He just stared blankly ahead, his lips trembling as if wanting to say something, but not a single sound came out.
That sense of powerlessness.
That feeling of despair of being crushed to death by power, without even the right to resist.
It instantly struck the hearts of all the women present.
They understood this feeling all too well.
In this world, within those grand courtyards of wealthy families, who wasn't an involuntary Liang Shanbo? Who wasn't a Zhu Yingtai manipulated by her family?
"Don't... don't be like this..."
Someone began to sob softly.
But the real knife had only just been raised.
The atmosphere in the hall was depressed to the extreme.
That cold, clear scent of the library pavilion now smelled bitter and astringent.
Xu Zijin staggered to his feet.
He was going to the Zhu Family Village.
Even if it meant death, he had to see her one last time.
The lights on the stage dimmed further, as if even the heavens were mourning for this ill-fated couple.
When Xu Zijin dragged his sick body, inching his way to the bottom of the high platform...
Zhu Yingtai, played by Nianyun, stood above in full red bridal attire, yet her face was covered in tears.
The two gazed at each other from afar, separated by an invisible wall.
"Brother Liang..."
"Virtuous Brother..."
This call was incomparably mournful.
Xu Zijin raised his hand, trying to reach the person above, but his hand trembled, and his body could no longer support him.
He coughed up a mouthful of blood, dyeing his pale scholar's robe red.
But he was still smiling.
A smile uglier than crying.
"Virtuous Brother... you must live well... marry into the Ma family... enjoy a life of luxury... do not... do not think of your foolish brother anymore..."
"Bullshit!"
Xue Hong stood up abruptly, tears gushing out uncontrollably.
She pointed at the stage, her voice trembling.
"Why? Why can't people who love each other be together? Why must there be prejudices of social status? Why must she marry that damn Ma Wencai!"
She cursed without any regard for her image or status.
But this time, no one laughed at her.
Because the surroundings were filled with the sounds of sniffling, and some were even lying on the tables, sobbing convulsively.
On the stage, Xu Zijin slowly collapsed.
Before he died, he was still tightly gripping the butterfly jade pendant given to him by Zhu Yingtai.
That was the only memento of his life.
The lights suddenly went out.
In the darkness, only a heart-wrenching wail could be heard: "Brother Liang!!!"
Immediately following was a rapid drumbeat and the sound of suona horns for the bridal procession, festively piercing, yet so ironic it made one want to vomit.
When the lights came back on.
A lonely grave appeared in the center of the stage.
It was built with the simplest props, but under the lights, it looked gloomy and terrifying.
Nianyun was wearing a bright red bridal gown, the wedding dress she was to wear to marry Ma Wencai.
She did not go to the Ma family, but rushed to the front of this lonely grave.
She knelt on the ground, crying her heart out.
"Brother Liang... walk a little slower... Yingtai... is coming to accompany you..."
She bit her finger and wrote her own name on the tombstone in blood.
Just then, a sudden change occurred.
A thick white mist suddenly surged up on the originally calm stage.
The mist came extremely fast and fiercely, flooding over the stage in the blink of an eye and surging toward the audience seating below.
This was no ordinary smoke.
This was what Xu Qinghuan, that prodigal daughter, had spent a fortune to have someone create using miraculous techniques—which was actually just dry ice.
In this era, this was fairy magic! This was a divine manifestation!
"What... what is going on?"
"Could it have moved the heavens?"
The noblewomen huddled together in fright, yet they couldn't bear to look away.
Surrounded by the white mist, the entire grave looked even more poignantly beautiful and mysterious.
Boom!
A loud crash shook the entire Hundred Flowers Pavilion.
It was the sound of thunder created by a hidden vocal mimicry master, accompanied by a tin-sheet thunder drum.
The lonely grave was seen slowly splitting open right before everyone's eyes!
All crying stopped at this moment.
The entire venue fell dead silent.
Everyone's eyes widened, staring fixedly at the split tomb.
The next second.
A dazzling golden light shot out from the depths of the grave.
Within that golden light.
Two incomparably huge butterflies slowly flew out.
They were not ordinary butterflies.
They were made by an heir of the Mohist mechanism arts, commissioned by Xu Qinghuan, using the lightest and thinnest Su embroidery brocade paired with an exquisite bamboo strip frame.
Each butterfly's wings were half a person's height, inlaid with fine phosphor powder and mica flakes.
Illuminated by the spotlight, they radiated brilliant colors, looking simply like a miracle.
The two butterflies circled, intertwined, and danced in the air.
Invisible silk threads were attached to their bodies—which was actually wire work—allowing them to perform movements of snuggling together and flying side by side in the air.
And within that white mist.
The figures of Xu Zijin and Nianyun faintly appeared.
Holding hands, with smiles of liberation on their faces, they followed the two butterflies, walking step by step toward the bright other shore.
