Night finally fell.

At the entrance of Changchun Garden, two horse carriages arrived.

The carriages stopped, guards nimbly jumped down, placed footstools, and turned to lift the curtains.

Two young men descended—the one in front wore brocade robes, tall and handsome; the one behind held a folding fan, head held high.

After the two stood still, they simultaneously looked back at the carriage behind them.

A young maid had already lifted the curtain, and a pale white hand emerged.

The maid gently grasped it.

A dark-haired young woman stepped out, her jade-like face bearing a pair of cold, clear black eyes.

She looked up at the two young men with a faint smile.

Cold eyes, warm smile—for a moment both young men held their breath.

The fan-wielding man wailed inwardly: Bodhisattva, can we consummate the marriage right now? This young master’s spring passions are stirring!

The brocade-robed man ground his back teeth: Still reluctant to marry her off too soon—keep her a few more years.

Supporting the maid’s hand, the young woman walked gracefully to the vermillion door and handed over her theater ticket.

The middle-aged man waiting at the entrance, about forty-some years old, didn’t reach out to take it but looked behind the young woman.

“Miss Yan, one ticket admits only one person.”

Yan Sanhe narrowed her eyes indifferently. “Then this performance isn’t worth watching. Buyan, we’re leaving.”

“Wait!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the middle-aged man realized he’d made an error in his haste.

“One is Third Master from Minister Xie Daozhi’s household; the other is the eldest son of Imperial Physician Pei.”

Yan Sanhe smiled lightly. “They’re accompanying me, Garden Master Cheng.”

The middle-aged man’s expression changed. “How do you know my surname is Cheng?”

“Your forehead is full, nose bridge straight, ears broad and mouth round—clearly a fortunate person. If not the garden master, who else could you be?”

Yan Sanhe waved her round fan twice. “Besides, at this hour?”

At this hour, you’re still blocking my people from entering?

What a waste of Old Censor’s painstaking arrangements.

Yan Sanhe shoved the ticket into his hands. “Third Master, Young Master Pei, let’s go!”

Third Master swept his long robe, Young Master Pei waved his fan, and they walked past Cheng Fuyao’s nose one after the other.

Walking with such righteousness!

Several customers behind were so angry their noses went crooked. “Hey, hey, hey, how come they don’t even need tickets?”

“Right! Doesn’t Changchun Garden refuse female guests?”

Just then an old attendant stepped forward with an apologetic smile. “Everyone please understand—they are honored guests personally invited by our Garden Master Cheng today.”

…

Compared to daytime, Changchun Garden at night added several shades of romantic charm.

All along the way, laughter and conversation.

The one leading Yan Sanhe’s group was the red-clothed maid from before.

The maid smiled as she led them upstairs, pointing to the private box marked “Chrysanthemum.” “Miss, young masters, please enter.”

Yan Sanhe sat in the main seat at the square table, with Xie Zhifei and Pei Xiao on her left and right.

The small building buzzed with voices. The eight tables downstairs were packed; none of the eight boxes upstairs were empty either.

Young Master Pei was confused, tapping Xie Zhifei’s foot with his toe.

Brother, what’s the situation?

So Lu Shi didn’t rent out the whole venue?

Xie Zhifei’s mind was a jumble—he didn’t know how to answer, so he tapped Yan Sanhe’s foot with his toe.

Yan Sanhe was examining the private box.

Strange.

Last time, this box was carved with openwork—you could clearly see the activity on both sides.

But this time…

The openwork carvings had been replaced with solid door panels, turning the box into a sealed space.

Noticing Xie Zhifei’s tap, she didn’t ask why but looked at Li Buyan behind her.

Without a word, Li Buyan walked out.

After she left, Huang Qi didn’t need Young Master Pei’s instruction and also departed, leaving only Zhu Qing guarding the door, eyes surveying all directions.

Yan Sanhe leaned forward, voice lowered: “Actually I don’t know either. Wait for Buyan to scout around.”

Xie Zhifei: “…” I haven’t even said anything yet?

Young Master Pei: “…” What use is Xie Fifty? My wife and I share one heart.

Young Master Pei thought for a moment and suggested: “Sanhe, should we go out and look around? Last time at the Jiaofang Bureau, we just wandered casually and ran into Guihua.”

Yan Sanhe was thinking exactly that. “When the performance starts, we’ll find an opportunity to go out. Third Master stays here just in case.”

Xie Zhifei grunted acknowledgment, feeling somewhat sour inside.

Was this the melancholy of being an older brother?

Thinking again, he felt this thought was truly ill-timed—better to focus on the matter at hand.

“Dang—”

A clear gong sounded, and the noisy theater quieted instantly.

The performance was starting!

As drum music rose, two people slowly walked onto the stage—one a young monk from Puji Temple.

The other wore a white long robe, a small cap on his head, full of heroic spirit—the performance’s protagonist, Scholar Zhang.

“How is it the Romance of the West Chamber again?” Young Master Pei muttered quietly.

He was tired of these plots about poor scholars and wealthy young ladies. Why couldn’t they perform a handsome scholar and poor girl story instead?

He stole a glance at Yan Sanhe—that would fit the occasion.

Xie Zhifei also disliked watching such saccharine performances.

When opera troupes performed at his home, he’d only watch a few moments of martial plays.

Yan Sanhe found it even stranger.

Romance of the West Chamber was performed for young ladies and young wives. Right now the theater was full of men—clearly inappropriate.

“You two?”

Young Master Pei asked quietly: “What play is Lu Shi planning to perform for us?”

Xie Zhifei raised an eyebrow. “Whatever it is, we have to watch. We don’t have a choice right now.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a hand grasped his wrist.

“Xie Zhifei.” Yan Sanhe’s voice trembled slightly.

Xie Zhifei saw her eyes staring blankly, inexplicably growing nervous himself. “What’s wrong?”

“Pinch me hard.”

How could I bear to!

Xie Zhifei instead gripped her hand and slapped his own face.

“Smack!”

As pain shot through his palm, Yan Sanhe felt the entire world freeze.

On stage—

The scholar looked at an archway and declared loudly: “Oh my, such a large garden over there! I don’t know what place that is—I really must go and see!”

The little monk quickly blocked him: “Please wait, sir. You cannot go there.”

The scholar didn’t understand: “Why not?”

The little monk said: “Inside lives the late Minister Cui’s wife and Miss Yingying…”

The scholar lowered his head thoughtfully, then turned around.

Just then, a voice like an oriole came from the garden: “Hongniang, open the corner gate.”

This call came so suddenly yet so naturally.

The scholar raised his face.

That face was fully revealed in the lamplight, eyes flickering with panic and bewilderment, as if saying: What should I do? Should I hide?

And sitting in the “Chrysanthemum” box, Yan Sanhe’s eyes showed the same panic.

“Xie Zhifei, Pei Mingting, look, look—that scholar, that scholar…”

What about the scholar?

Xie Zhifei and Pei Xiao almost simultaneously shifted their gazes to the scholar’s face.

With this look, they were thunderstruck.

That scholar was actually… played by Lu Shi!