On the fifteenth day of the sixth month, Changxing Marquis Residence invited the ladies of the Gu family to attend an opera performance.
The invitation had been personally written by Lady Gao.
The seal at the bottom was her private seal rather than the official seal of the Marquis Residence.
When she wrote the invitations, Ye Xian was seated in a round-backed chair on the other side of the flower hall, reading a book.
The pages had not turned for quite some time.
Yet his gaze repeatedly drifted over the top of the book toward the invitation cards beneath his mother’s brush.
The Marquis Residence had been busy preparing since early morning.
The maids rolled up the bamboo curtains beside the peony garden to half-height and arranged seven or eight rosewood chairs along the edge of the flower beds.
The opera stage had been built on the eastern side of the flower hall, directly facing a cluster of blooming Yaohuang peonies.
Lady Gao instructed Nanny Feng to place a bowl of chilled sour plum soup and a plate of Longjing pastries beside every chair.
A newly made round silk fan was set beside each place.
The fan faces were plain silk, while pale-green tassels hung from the handles.
Nanny Feng directed the maids to arrange the refreshments in two separate rows.
One row was placed beside the seats facing the opera stage.
The other row was set beside the round-backed chairs deeper within the flower hall.
The tea prepared for the inner seats was not the usual Longjing.
It was Junshan Yinzhen.
The Gu family’s carriage arrived at the Marquis Residence during the third quarter of the Chen hour.
When Gu Jinzhao stepped down from the carriage with Qing Pu’s assistance, Lady Gao was already waiting at the inner gate.
Today, Lady Gao wore a dark-blue patterned gauze jacket.
The white jade hairpin in her hair gleamed softly.
Her smile seemed warmer than usual.
Her eyes lingered briefly on Jinzhao’s pale-green high-collared jacket.
She had remarked before that the color suited Jinzhao well.
Under the bright morning sunlight, the pale green made her appear especially fresh and elegant.
The white jade bracelet on her wrist swayed lightly as she lifted her hand.
The carved begonia flower on the inner side appeared and disappeared beneath the sunlight.
“Jinzhao has arrived.”
Lady Gao took her hand and led her inward.
Along the way, she lowered her voice.
“I heard about your father’s matter.”
“How has everything been at home these past few days?”
“Thank you for your concern, Madam.”
Jinzhao lowered her eyes respectfully.
“Father is well. He returned to duty yesterday.”
Lady Gao patted the back of her hand gently and asked no further questions.
Some matters did not need to be spoken aloud.
Both of them understood.
Gu Lan followed behind them.
Today she wore a goose-yellow summer dress.
Excitement had flushed her cheeks pink.
In the past, she had only attended makeshift opera performances at temple fairs alongside the women of her household.
This was her first time attending an opera gathering at a Marquis Residence.
Everything seemed new.
The moment she entered the flower hall, she could not help whispering to Jinzhao:
“Big Sister, this flower garden is more than twice the size of ours.”
“Those Yaohuang peonies are blooming beautifully.”
“They’re even better than the ones in our garden.”
Before she finished speaking, her eyes landed on the plates of pastries beside the opera seats.
Her eyes brightened even more.
Two other young ladies were already seated in the hall.
One was Sun Hui, the eldest legitimate daughter of the Assistant Minister of the Court of Judicial Review.
She wore a lotus-purple jacket and lazily fanned herself.
The other was Lin Wan, the second daughter of a Vice Minister of Revenue.
Today she wore a pale-pink summer robe.
Only a single freshly picked gardenia flower adorned her hair.
As soon as they saw Jinzhao enter, both smiled and beckoned her over.
Sun Hui shifted slightly and made room for her.
“I knew you’d come today.”
Lin Wan smiled and leaned closer, lowering her voice.
“When Lady Gao’s invitation arrived, my mother wondered why she suddenly wanted to host an opera gathering.”
“I guessed it immediately.”
“It definitely isn’t just about the opera.”
Jinzhao calmly lifted her cup of Junshan Yinzhen tea.
“What else would it be about?”
“About listening to someone.”
Lin Wan hid her smile behind her fan and cast a glance toward the opposite side of the flower hall.
There, the bamboo curtain of a side room hung half-open.
A vague figure moved behind it.
That direction led toward the study.
Xu Jingting’s head briefly emerged from behind the curtain as he peeked toward the flower hall.
Then he immediately withdrew again.
The flower hall buzzed with activity.
Lady Gao rose and instructed the maids to bring additional plates of sour plum cakes.
She also ordered someone to bring over the opera selection booklet so the young ladies could choose performances.
When the booklet reached Jinzhao, she flipped through it briefly before selecting a scene.
The Story of the Jade Hairpin — Qin Tiao.
Lady Gao’s brows twitched slightly when she saw the choice.
The scene told the story of the scholar Pan Bizheng and the Daoist nun Chen Miaochang, who used music to express their feelings and pledged themselves to one another with a jade hairpin.
Lady Gao said nothing.
She simply smiled and had the booklet sent away.
Not long after the performance began, footsteps sounded from the side entrance of the flower hall.
Not the light steps of maids.
The sound of official boots upon bluestone.
Measured.
Unhurried.
Ye Xian walked over from the direction of the study.
He did not approach the section occupied by the ladies.
Instead, he chose the chair farthest from the opera stage and closest to the side entrance.
At first glance, it appeared to be a random choice.
Yet with the slightest turn of his head, his line of sight could pass directly through the branches of several Yaohuang peonies and settle upon a single person.
Today he wore an extremely light moon-white gauze robe beneath a plain black outer garment.
The bamboo-patterned jade hairpin remained in his hair.
The weather was warm.
He had pushed his sleeves up slightly, revealing a small section of wrist.
A maid brought him tea.
He took one sip and set the cup down.
The porcelain base made a soft click against the rosewood table.
“What performance is this?”
He asked the young maid beside him in a tone as casual as asking about the weather.
“Heir Apparent, it’s The Story of the Jade Hairpin — Qin Tiao.”
“Oh.”
He nodded and asked no further questions.
Yet his gaze lingered on the stage a little longer.
Onstage, Pan Bizheng was using the sound of the qin to probe Chen Miaochang’s feelings.
The actor’s singing voice was clear and melodious.
The slow, lingering melodies drifted across the peony garden.
Several pink butterflies rose fluttering from among the flowers, dancing through the sunlight.
Gu Jinzhao sat perfectly upright among the ladies.
A teacup rested in her hand.
Her attention appeared fixed entirely upon the stage.
Her posture was impeccable.
Not a single flaw could be found.
From beginning to end, she never once looked toward the corner of the flower hall.
Nor did she turn around to confirm anything.
Because she already knew.
He was definitely sitting in that seat.
Wearing the expression of someone who seemed to be saying:
“I’m merely here to listen to the opera. Where I sit has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
When the first performance ended, the actress withdrew to change costumes.
Lady Gao instructed the maids to refill everyone’s tea.
She moved away to greet several noblewomen who had arrived late.
For a time, the flower hall was filled with conversation, the rustling of fans, and the gentle clinking of porcelain dishes.
Gu Lan was enthusiastically telling Lin Wan how handsome the young male lead looked.
Sun Hui added:
“He was even better the last time he performed The Palace of Eternal Life at the temple fair.”
Taking advantage of the distraction, Gu Jinzhao stood.
She quietly told Qing Pu,
“I’m going to the washroom.”
Then she followed the corridor behind the flower hall.
When she reached the corner beneath the corridor, she found Ye Xian exactly where she expected him to be.
He leaned against a pillar with his arms folded.
His gaze wandered lazily over the peonies blooming in the courtyard.
One particularly heavy Yaohuang blossom had bent its branch downward.
Hearing her footsteps, he withdrew his gaze and looked toward her.
His tone remained as lazy as ever.
“The washroom is on the right.”
“You took the wrong turn.”
“I didn’t.”
Gu Jinzhao stopped two steps away from him.
The bamboo curtains swayed gently in the breeze.
Light and shadow filtered through them, scattering across the floor between them.
Behind them, the distant drums and gongs of the opera echoed faintly through the air.
Ye Xian studied her silently for a moment.
Then he withdrew a folded piece of paper from his sleeve and handed it over.
“Ji Minzhong may be on sick leave, but his steward Wu An hasn’t been idle.”
“Yesterday he moved another shipment into the private residence near Qingfeng Academy.”
“The city patrol noticed they were packing books and old records from the academy into crates.”
He lowered his voice.
The words came faster than usual.
Clearly, he had not happened to be waiting here by chance.
“The crates were marked with two different seals.”
“‘Yangzhou’ and ‘Tongzhou.'”
“Tongzhou means water transport.”
“Yangzhou means overland transport.”
“The same shipment carrying both markings means he’s preparing two options.”
“Water is faster but easier to investigate.”
“Land is slower but safer.”
“He intends to flee.”
“He simply hasn’t decided which route to take.”
Gu Jinzhao unfolded the paper.
It contained densely written place names.
Warehouse locations near Tongzhou docks.
Addresses of several Ji family properties in Yangzhou.
“Take this back and study it.”
He pointed toward several entries.
“Two of the warehouses are near the Imperial Stud Court ranches.”
“Lord Gu should know the exact locations.”
Then he paused.
Unexpectedly, he asked:
“The loquat syrup I gave you before.”
“Have you finished it?”
Jinzhao folded the paper and tucked it into her sleeve.
Looking up, she met his eyes.
“Not yet.”
“There’s still about half a jar left.”
She tilted her head slightly.
“Why does Heir Apparent ask?”
Her gaze held a trace of curiosity.
Ye Xian immediately looked away.
His eyes settled upon a begonia tree outside the corridor that appeared slightly wilted beneath the summer sun.
His voice became even lighter.
“It’s nothing.”
“I made that batch myself.”
“It’s stronger than the version prepared by the residence pharmacy.”
With that, he turned and began walking back toward the study.
The breeze lifted a corner of his black outer robe, revealing the moon-white garment beneath.
After several steps, he suddenly stopped.
Without turning around, he said:
“The opera selection today was good.”
“Qin Tiao was much better than the Havoc in Heaven that Xu Jingting chose last time.”
Then he walked away without looking back.