In the dressing room.

Lu Shi used a handkerchief to wipe the oil paint from his face, removed his opera costume, and changed into his own clothes.

Cheng Fuyao waited patiently beside him. Seeing everything was in order:

“My lord, please come with me.”

“Alright.”

Passing through a pitch-black path, the clamor of the opera house gradually faded away.

At the end of the path stood Lu Da.

Seeing his master approaching, Lu Da stepped forward to support him.

Lu Shi pushed away his hand and cupped his fists toward Cheng Fuyao beside him.

“Eighteen years, Troupe Master Cheng—I’ve imposed upon you.”

“What words are these, my lord?”

Cheng Fuyao quickly waved his hands. “Without my lord, there would be no Singing Spring Garden today.”

Lu Shi said slowly, “High mountains and flowing water. Brother Cheng, we part ways here.”

Though Cheng Fuyao had anticipated this in his heart, he still couldn’t help asking:

“Will you come again in the future, my lord?”

“No.”

“Then… let me see you off.”

“No need to see me off. This is fine.”

Lu Shi’s words had just fallen when Lu Da’s brow tightened and he shouted sternly, “Come out.”

In the night, people emerged one after another—exactly six of them.

Cheng Fuyao was shocked.

“How did you find this place?”

“Naturally through every possible means.”

Yan Sanhe stepped forward and stood before Lu Shi. “Lord Lu, we meet again.”

Lu Shi’s face showed not a trace of surprise, as if he’d known for certain they would find their way here.

“What do you want from me?”

“To tell Lord Lu that the moment the opera drum fell, her coffin also clicked shut.”

Lu Shi nodded, indicating he understood.

“Before leaving, she also said something to me.”

Smile lines curved at the corners of Yan Sanhe’s mouth, revealing a hint of cunning.

“I want to relay those words to Lord Lu, and I’d also like to ask Lord Lu to speak about past events.”

“Miss Yan, I still have matters to attend to…”

“If her words don’t carry enough weight, adding this…”

Yan Sanhe didn’t give Lu Shi a chance to refuse. She took out two branches of osmanthus flowers from behind her and presented them before him.

“Is this enough?”

Enough?

Lu Shi slowly closed his eyes. The slightly moist, delicate fragrance assailed his nostrils.

These were the flowers that after he returned to the Tang household, were always arranged in her boudoir. She said she loved this kind of flower that seemed to bloom everywhere overnight.

She didn’t truly love them.

It was merely “plucking osmanthus from the moon palace”—hinting that he would have a bright future ahead.

For his future prospects, she even placed these flowers daily in her teacher’s study until the teacher could bear it no longer and sighed, “A grown daughter cannot be kept at home!”

Lu Shi opened his eyes. His gaze didn’t fall on Yan Sanhe but instead rested on Xie Zhifei and Pei Xiao.

“The son of Cabinet Minister Xie Daozhi, the eldest son of the Imperial Physician Pei family—aren’t you two afraid of stirring up trouble by intercepting me?”

Xie Zhifei stepped forward and bowed respectfully. “Since we’ve come, we’re not afraid.”

Young Master Pei had never been this respectful even to his own father.

“Being afraid wouldn’t help anyway, old lord. I’m particularly curious by nature. If mysteries aren’t solved, I can’t even sleep well. Please show mercy!”

Lu Shi gazed at them quietly for a moment, then turned around.

“Garden Master Cheng, is there a quiet place where I can speak a few words with these young people?”

“Yes, my lord, please follow me.”

“Ah Da, go watch at the alley entrance.”

Lu Da’s expression changed slightly. “Master?”

“Don’t worry.”

Lu Shi took the osmanthus flowers from Yan Sanhe’s hand and tossed them to the ground.

“Just a bag of old bones—they surely won’t harm me.”

Yan Sanhe glanced at the ground, her heart pounding fiercely.

This person never played by ordinary rules!

…

The quiet place Cheng Fuyao mentioned turned out to be a water pavilion surrounded by water on three sides.

Inside, the furnishings were extremely simple—just a few tables, chairs, and a tea station.

Xie Zhifei looked around. “Garden Master Cheng, may I borrow your tea station?”

Cheng Fuyao didn’t even glance at Xie Zhifei. He only said to Lu Shi, “My lord, speak freely. I’ll keep watch outside.”

Xie Zhifei felt somewhat awkward—the first time he’d felt his face wasn’t particularly useful.

Just then, Yan Sanhe coughed lightly.

Zhu Qing and Huang Qi exchanged glances and left the water pavilion, dispersing in different directions.

Li Buyan picked up the small clay pot and began heating water to brew tea.

After filling four tea cups with hot water, she immediately closed the door of the water pavilion and melted into the night.

Lu Shi’s face showed considerable surprise.

Yan Sanhe smiled faintly at him. “Lord Lu’s identity, and the words Lord Lu is about to speak—we must be a thousand, ten thousand times more careful.”

Lu Shi lifted his robes and sat down in the chair.

“Miss Yan, being careful doesn’t always ensure smooth sailing for ten thousand years.”

These words sounded bland at first, but upon careful consideration…

Yan Sanhe was shocked into speechlessness.

Xie Zhifei quickly said, “Caution is always good, otherwise implicating the old lord…”

“Implicate?”

Lu Shi suddenly laughed heartily.

His laughter came without warning, loud in volume, startling all of them.

Young Master Pei stamped his feet anxiously. “Old lord, please stop laughing—you’ll attract wolves!”

Lu Shi looked at Pei Xiao. “Wolves aren’t attracted—wolves smell prey and come running on their own.”

Oh my!

My dear old lord!

Please stop speaking in riddles—let’s be direct!

Young Master Pei’s eyes were wide with anxiety.

“Speak then. What past events do you want to hear?”

Lu Shi closed his eyelids, his face full of fatigue. His voice, having just sung opera, was tinged with hoarseness, sounding somewhat aged and weary.

Yan Sanhe had a thousand threads of thought and momentarily didn’t know where to begin.

After a moment, she asked, “When did the old lord learn opera? Who taught you?”

“No one taught me. I just watched. After watching enough, it came naturally.”

Yan Sanhe: “My lord enjoys listening to opera.”

Lu Shi opened his eyes. “She enjoyed it.”

The answer was straightforward.

Yan Sanhe discovered Lu Shi had suddenly become forthcoming.

“So from the very beginning, you knew her heart demon was you?”

“It could only be me.”

Yan Sanhe: “Why are you so certain?”

Lu Shi responded with a question instead of an answer. “Before dying, did she remove her nun’s robes and change into a set of paddy-field clothes, and wear a pair of embroidered shoes that showed the moon under lamplight?”

Yan Sanhe: “Everything you said is correct, and she also applied rouge.”

“I sent them all to her, one after another.”

Lu Shi extended his hand and touched the calluses on his palm, shaking his head.

“To send her these things, I worked iron for a very long time. Many more calluses formed.”

Before Yan Sanhe could ask again, he continued, “Like Zhang Sheng in the opera, I was once a poor scholar.”

Yan Sanhe: “The story of Zhang Sheng and Cui Yingying in the opera is your and her story.”

Lu Shi answered firmly, “No.”

Yan Sanhe: “If not, then why did her heart demon resolve after you sang that segment?”

Lu Shi’s gaze turned toward the outside of the water pavilion, carrying a hint of distance.

“Miss Yan, have you ever visited Yan Ruxian’s residence?”

Yan Sanhe: “I have.”

Lu Shi: “In the back garden, there’s an opera house. Have you seen it?”