Chapter 13: Shadows of the Opera (Thirteen) I'm jealous.

When Zhao Jinfan first met this beautiful young man, he was truly handsome, with a touch of androgynousness. If he were to act in costume, he would surely possess a unique charm.

She had harbored selfish feelings towards him from the beginning, as he was younger than the other male members of the troupe.

However, after waking up, he treated the actors like his enemies, and she began to retreat, simply wanting to know why he hated opera singers.

Today, after being exposed by Mr. Ye, she simply asked, but regretted it after she had done so—he hadn't yet figured out the source of his hatred for the actors, and asking such a question was rather inappropriate.

Mr. Ye was truly…

Zhao Jinfan was at a loss, fearing that this irritable young man would go crazy again, repeatedly saying, "I hate actors."

The afternoon sun suddenly grew scorching, and the crowd gathered, even in the pavilion, was tormented.

"I want to stay,"

the young man suddenly said amidst the silence.

"I don't want to learn opera."

Everyone was shocked and looked at each other.

Qinghuai looked at him, blinking his confused eyes.

Xie Zhiyan stared at him, his brows furrowed, and it was unclear what he was thinking.

The young man changed his mind overnight. Ye Qingzhan was surprised, and felt someone touch his arm. He turned around and found it was the exiled immortal who had arrived late.

Li Zhixing found a palm-leaf fan from somewhere and fanned himself, whispering, "What did this immortal miss again?"

Ye Qingzhan was about to explain when Miss Ye interrupted him.

"Then it's settled," Miss Ye said, taking Zhao Jinfan's shoulder and guiding him aside. "Sister, let's keep him in the troupe for now, and we'll figure out the rest later."

Mr. Ye, his ears pricked up, ran over and whispered, "Qingzhan is right. Let's keep him first and then try to coax him into learning opera."

The noises of their "conspiracy" were indeed quite loud. Xie Zhiyan coughed lightly and said to the gathered crowd, "Everyone, disperse. Go practice."

Without hearing the last word, the crowd dispersed as instructed, but they kept glancing back every few steps, hoping to hear if the young man had anything to say. The troupe members were also curious about the young man's transformation.

Ye Qingzhan and Wen Gu, considered members of the troupe and subject to the deputy troupe leader's orders, both glanced at the exiled immortal before leaving.

Li Zhixing waved his palm-leaf fan and nodded, reassuring them.

Qinghuai stayed obediently beside the exiled immortal.

A question lingered in his mind: if the figure in the illusion was based on his memories from his lifetime, then why was his stature different from the two similar-looking figures?

The exiled immortal had only altered his appearance, not his stature.

Now he was close to both Ayang and Xie Zhiyan, yet not on the same height as either, but somewhere between them.

Qinghuai fretted: Am I really one of them?

After everyone had dispersed, Xie Zhiyan approached the young man and said calmly, "Answer whatever I ask you. Remember that?"

The young man looked at him and nodded.

"Where are you from?"

"Zhuxi Town."

Li Zhixing covered his face with his fan, thinking to himself: Clever! He must have found him in Zhuxi.

Xie Zhiyan then inquired, "What's your name? What did you do for a living? Why did your leg hit a rock? Do you remember who pulled you out of the water after you fell?"

These three questions, each one of them, were what everyone around him wanted to know.

Surname: Xu, nameless.

Murder.

Being chased and bumped into a sharp rock.

Climbed up on my own.

Ah Yang answered this in his mind, and then aloud: "I used to work for the Li Lian family in Zhuxi Town. I argued about unpaid wages and was beaten out. His hired thugs chased me to the edge of Zhuxi, where I fell onto a broken rock and injured my leg. With nowhere else to go, I jumped into the stream."

"I think it was the thugs who were chasing me who saved me. After all, it wouldn't be nice if someone died."

"I don't have a name or surname. They're just whatever the employer calls me."

The young man's face was calm, his tone smooth, and he spoke seriously.

"The Zhuxi Li Lian family is really not a good family," said Mr. Ye, indignant. "I've been ripped off when doing business with them before."

"Stingy, and they love to resort to lynching."

"Bah!"

Mr. Ye, also a man of character, seemed to have found a confidant. He put his arm around the young man's shoulders and said, "Little brother, you've suffered. It's not worth it to work for people like that."

Mr. Ye's words just happened to cover up Ah Yang's lie, and Li Zhixing raised his eyebrows.

Interesting, better at making things up than me.

Xie Zhiyan's eyes were still heavy, and he said, "One last question, why do you hate actors?"

The young man paused, his eyes not dodging or evading, and said, "I don't want to say."

The people who were watching him fell silent again.

Xie Zhiyan closed his eyes slightly, his eyes suppressing the rising anger. Zhao Jinfan glanced at him and gently pulled the corner of his sleeve. His eyes instantly became gentle and looked at her.

Zhao Jinfan shook his head at him.

Li Zhixing covered his face with a fan, knowing that she was persuading him not to force Ah Yang.

Miss Ye, who looked left and right, also came out to smooth things over in time and said to Ah Yang, "Okay, okay, if you don't want to say it, don't say it first." Seeing that his face was pale, she added, "You have just recovered, you should rest more. After three days, when your legs are healed, you will have to help the troupe with work."

Ah Yang nodded and said, "I know."

"Okay, go back to the house and rest."

The servant took him into the house as he was told, but he was unwilling and went to the reed marsh on his own.

As the man walked away, Miss Ye said to Xie Zhiyan, "Brother Xie, there's a lot of time to go. If he stays, what's the problem?"

"Yes, Qingzhan is right. A secret cannot be forced out of the room. He has to be willing to speak out." Mr. Ye looked at Ah Yang's receding figure and said, "This young man must be someone with a story."

Miss Ye glanced at his father and said with a smile, "Have you seen it again?"

"Of course," Mr. Ye said with a smile as bright as a flower. "I've been in the business world for many years, and I've seen everyone." He looked at Ah Yang and said seriously, "That boy's eyes hold a lot of secrets." "..."

Several people listened to Mr. Ye's words and looked at the young man gazing at the reed marsh.

Li Zhixing waved his fan in thought.

Everyone in the pavilion looked at Ah Yang, including Wen Gu, who was practicing leg exercises, and Ye Qingzhan, who was beating the gong. He stood by the river, reached for a reed, and pulled out a small knife from his waist. He cut it at the node, fiddled with it for a few times, and then put the knife back on his waist.

Then, he placed the reed to his lips, and a flute sounded.

The reed flute's melody was clear and lingering.

The troupe paused, listening to the young man's flute playing. It felt like a dream, the sound of the flute etched itself into their hearts, their fatigue fading.

The silent young man, in his own way, soothed the fatigue of the people here.

The green Huai River in the pavilion blinked, its eyes hollow and mournful.

He sensed sadness in the bright melody.

***

A Yang's reed flute music successfully won the favor of the troupe. Except for Xie Zhiyan, the others came to him to learn to play the flute in their spare time after practicing.

Ye Qingzhan also wanted to learn, but she had a mission to do, so she had to sneak to the locust tree in the dead of night when everyone had fallen asleep, where Li Zhixing was waiting for her.

"Immortal Li, you didn't tell us about Xie Zhiyan's past last night!" Ye Qingzhan looked at Qinghuai beside him and asked in a low voice, "Qinghuai, can you play the reed flute?"

If he could, then he would be A Yang, and they wouldn't have to go to the trouble of reading books to read the sour poems written by Xie Zhiyan.

Without waiting for Qinghuai to answer, Li Zhixing crossed his arms and said, "Nonsense, if he could, would this immortal have to call you out in the middle of the night?"

Ye Qingzhan realized how redundant his question was and said "Oh" in disappointment.

Seeing her lost look, Qinghuai moved his lips slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he still didn't say anything.

"Is Qinghuai Xie Zhiyan?" Ye Qingzhan asked again.

"I don't know," the exiled immortal said helplessly, "They look alike, but their height is a little different."

When the three photos of people with similar appearances stood together today, Li Zhixing also found that Qinghuai's body length did not match the two. He originally thought that if Ah Yang was younger, he would be as tall as him in a year or two. He also remembered that he had read in a scroll that ghosts would forget their memories of their previous lives, but skills like playing the reed flute would not be forgotten even if they lost their memories. When the reed flute is brought to the lips, it will play.

But Qinghuai said that he could not play the reed flute. He

always felt that the hard work of the past few days was just a waste of time. He could only pin his hopes on Xie Zhiyan. If Qinghuai was not him either, then they really worked in vain.

Ye Qingzhan also thought of this, and suddenly raised his drooping head. "Never mind, Wen Gu is still waiting for us!"

"That's right, I'll show you Xie Zhiyan's diary first."

"This immortal is too lazy to repeat it, so you can read it yourself."

Li Zhixing transformed Qinghuai and Ye Qingzhan into small shadow figures.

Qinghuai was a ghost, his consciousness scattered. Last night, he entered Ayang's dream, and they couldn't take him with them, fearing that his scattered consciousness would collide with the dream's master and be sensed. So they let him rest. After all, ghosts, in order to regain their memories of their past lives, have their ghost power taken away by the masters of the three realms during the process of forging their realms, merging them into their illusions. In this illusion, they are weaker than ghosts.

However, if the knot in their hearts remains unresolved for too long, the illusion will collapse, and the ghost power absorbed into their bodies will return to them, fueling their ghost power and causing them to run wild.

Tonight, the exiled immortal planned to take them to study books. He only needed to transform into a small sesame figure, and he could bring Qinghuai with him to experience it as well.

Three tiny shadow figures sauntered along the wall and entered the side room shared by Xie Zhiyan and Wen Gu.

Wen Gu lay on his side, his eyes fixed on the Yin Sha in the darkness, allowing him to see everything clearly in the night—three tiny shadow figures stood neatly under his bed, one of them looking the smallest and dumbest.

Wen Gu bent down and put his arm around her waist, placing her in the palm of his other hand, where a slight tingling sensation spread. He slowly raised his hand and brought the "figure in his palm" in front of his eyes.

It was tiny, blinking its round, dark eyes.

Ye Qingzhan, held in his palm, was bewildered. The immortal and ghost standing on the ground couldn't understand the young man's thoughts either.

"I'm afraid of stepping on you,"

Wen Gu said suddenly, his voice soft, staring at her without blinking. Exiled

Immortal: "..."

Qinghuai: "..."

Why aren't you afraid of stepping on us!

Li Zhixing turned around and climbed onto the desk, unable to bear it any longer. Qinghuai followed the Exiled Immortal, not wanting to spend much time with the figure hiding the Yin Sha.

Ye Qingzhan, who was still in the palm of his hand, had a blush on his cheeks, not knowing what to say.

Wen Gu glanced at Xie Zhiyan on the other bed, got off the bed quietly, put Ye Qingzhan on the table, and looked at the exiled immortal.

Li Zhixing quickly made him smaller without saying a word.

Ye Qingzhan had previously practiced the magic that the Immortal Lord of Tianqi Mountain taught her in front of the exiled immortal. Li Zhixing taught her a few things, and now the magic came in handy.

She formed a barrier on the desk to isolate the sound of turning pages. If someone gets close, it can serve as a reminder.

In this way, the immortal and the ghost began to flip through different diaries. What Ye

Qingzhan flipped through, happened to be what Xie Zhiyan wrote today -

In the summer of the twelfth year of the Qingli period, on the 5th day of June, my friends in the class sang by the reeds and water. In the pavilion, you stroked my clothes, and my heart was very happy. Suddenly I heard the sound of a reed flute, the sound was long and melodious, and your face was happy.

I am jealous.

I can't.