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DCFRP Extra 23

A dream: Transmigrated back to republic of China (23)

TL: Hua


The night deepened, and the lights in the houses on both sides of the street went out one by one.

The two agreed to meet in ten days at the auditorium on Edouard Road.

Then Xun Qian had the driver buy some medicated wine, applied it to Qi Xiaoyu, and then let him return to the opera troupe.

Qi Xiaoyu hopped on one leg, jumping from the back door into the courtyard, and then hopped to the front door.

He held onto the doorframe, looked back, and saw Xun Qian still standing there watching him. The orange lamplight enveloped Xun Qian, casting a soft glow all over him.

Qi Xiaoyu waved at Xun Qian again, watched him open the car door and get in, watched the car disappear under the shadows of the Chinese parasol trees, then turned and went inside, locking the door.

He didn’t dare turn on the light. At the end of the hallway, one side was the stairs, and the other was Qi Fengjian’s room. He was afraid of waking his master.

In the darkness, he felt his way along the wall, tiptoed, and quietly walked back.

Just as he reached the staircase and was about to go upstairs, he heard a familiar voice behind him, “Finally willing to come back?”

Qi Xiaoyu felt his back stiffen. He guiltily straightened his body, faced Qi Fengjian sitting in the rattan chair in the living room, and obediently called out, “Master.”

Late at night, there was silence, and occasional rustling sounds could be heard from upstairs, just a small movement before falling asleep.

Qi Xiaoyu stole a glance at Qi Fengjian, thinking he would definitely be scolded tonight, but Qi Fengjian sat facing him, holding his cigarette pipe, taking puffs intermittently. Apart from the initial sentence, he didn’t seem to intend to reprimand his little apprentice.

Qi Xiaoyu had grown up by Qi Fengjian’s side and could discern the meaning behind every word and action of his. Seeing Qi Fengjian’s current demeanor, he knew his master wasn’t angry but was thinking about something, though the matter was probably troubling, even a bit heavy.

So he hobbled on his twisted ankle to the kitchen to pour a cup of tea, then returned to the living room, lit a small lamp on the table, and then brought the tea to Qi Fengjian. “Master, why are you still awake so late?”

Qi Fengjian glanced at his little apprentice while taking the tea. “What? Is your leg better so quickly? You can run around outside now?”

Qi Xiaoyu stood aside, holding his master’s cigarette pipe. “I didn’t run far, just to the door.”

Qi Xiaoyu carefully looked at his master. “Master, is something troubling you? Is there anything I can help with?”

“Do you really think you’re a famous actor now? You can solve any problem?” Qi Fengjian’s tone was sharp, but the corners of his mouth curved into water-like wrinkles as he spoke.

Qi Xiaoyu stuck out his tongue and didn’t ask anymore.

Qi Fengjian drank his tea, not wanting to tell Qi Xiaoyu the truth either.

The master and apprentice stayed silently like this, neither speaking, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Instead, they felt a long-lost intimacy and quietness in this time.

When Qi Xiaoyu was little, he was afraid of the dark and always cried at night. Qi Fengjian would grab his small body and take him into his own bed to sleep.

Qi Xiaoyu indeed stopped crying, not because he was no longer afraid, but because he was even more afraid, scared by Qi Fengjian into not crying.

Through those long, dark nights, neither of them could sleep, one trembling with fear, the other worried, and they spent many years like this.

After a while, Qi Fengjian suddenly mentioned, “Counting it, you’ve been with the opera troupe for fourteen years already, haven’t you?”

Qi Xiaoyu nodded, “Fourteen years and three months.”

When Qi Fengjian said this, his gaze fell entirely on Qi Xiaoyu.

In the dim lamplight, he looked at his little apprentice, whom he had raised with his own hands, up and down, again and again. “You’ve grown up.”

Qi Xiaoyu’s heart stirred suddenly under Qi Fengjian’s gaze, and he murmured, “Master.”

Qi Fengjian added, “Put your hand out; let me see.”

Qi Xiaoyu didn’t react for a moment, then obediently held out both hands, palms up, holding the cigarette pipe, towards his master. When he had done something wrong as a child, he would hold out his hands like this, waiting to be hit.

Qi Fengjian snorted from his nose, his gaze shifting to Qi Xiaoyu’s injured hand. “Are you asking me to read your palm? Roll up your sleeves.”

Qi Xiaoyu said, “Oh,” and obediently rolled up the sleeve of his long gown, revealing his somewhat swollen forearm. “I just applied the medicated wine; it will be better tomorrow.”

Qi Fengjian lowered his eyes and sighed deeply, then said to himself as if thinking aloud, “These fourteen years, you’ve suffered with Master.”

Qi Xiaoyu was stunned for a moment, then quickly shook his head. “Master’s beatings were right, and they didn’t hurt at all…”

At this moment, Qi Fengjian stood up and interrupted him, “Go, go back to sleep, get up early tomorrow, don’t delay your practice.”

Hearing his tone, Qi Xiaoyu immediately became the obedient apprentice again: “Master should rest early too.”

“Xiaoyu.” Just as Qi Xiaoyu reached the second step of the stairs, he suddenly heard Qi Fengjian call him.

He quickly stopped and turned back. “Hmm?”

There was only the kerosene lamp that Qi Xiaoyu had lit in the living room. In the flickering light, Qi Fengjian’s expression was unclear. He paused for a moment, seemed to want to say something but didn’t, and then just waved at Qi Xiaoyu with a somewhat reluctant voice, “It’s nothing, go back.”

Although Qi Xiaoyu felt that Qi Fengjian’s demeanor that night was a bit strange, the next day, his master was still the same as before, with no difference from usual.

So he didn’t ask again what was troubling Qi Fengjian that day.

Moreover, the benefit performance to help the Spring Joy Troupe was fast approaching, and he needed to hurry up with his practice, so he had even less time to think about this matter.

That day was May 7th. The Red Moon Troupe took a day off from their performances at the Laurel Stage to help out at the auditorium on Edouard Road.

The other Peking Opera troupes that came to help were Rongchun Society, Shouchun Troupe, and Xiliancheng.

The performances that day lasted from morning until night, divided into three acts, and the income was three times as much as usual.

The Spring Joy Troupe only had to cover the venue and meal expenses without paying the other troupes. All the ticket revenue went to them, enough for them to find a place to settle down, find another stage to perform on, and start anew.

This was the way people in the Peking Opera circle supported each other.

The dozen or so people from the Red Moon Troupe who came to help arrived very early. Although Qi Xiaoyu’s “Spring Boudoir Dream,” Qi Wanrou’s “Striking the Drum and Scolding Cao,” and a few others’ “Gathering of Heroes” were mostly scheduled for the evening, everyone was in place early in the morning when it just started.

After all, for Qi Xiaoyu, today was not only about helping but also about learning.

He had even brought Gu He along to learn.

Gu Zizhen’s back injury had flared up again in the past two days, preventing him from going out, so he took on the responsibility of the little junior uncle, bringing Gu He to watch and learn opera.

When other opera troupe members or enthusiasts recognized him, he would politely exchange a few pleasantries without wasting much time.

Another person from a different troupe came up to ask him if it was true that he had recently found a big patron. Qi Xiaoyu smiled but didn’t say much.

He attentively watched the Spring Joy Troupe’s “Si Lang Visits His Mother” and “Dreaming in the Garden,” explaining things to Gu He as he watched.

From the moment Yang Baosen stepped onto the stage, he stared intently, watching Yang Baosen sit down, draw his bow across the strings, and listening to Yang Baosen play a solo, “Little Opening the Door,” a lively and clear melody. He silently marveled in his heart; truly, the emotion was lingering, the spirit soaring, like a crane on the back of a heavenly wind, traversing three thousand feet.

Qi Xiaoyu, like a little opera enthusiast, cheered, applauded, and shouted praises in the crowd.

There were also many spectators that day.

There were several schools on Edouard Road, followed by a street full of shops, and in front were rows of Western-style houses. Therefore, the audience included students, businessmen, wealthy ladies, and some old opera fans. Xun Qian arrived late, only managing to get there before Qi Wanrou went on stage. He was still wearing a black uniform with white trim and a matching hat.

As soon as he arrived, Gu He obediently gave up his seat. “Little junior uncle wants to be romantic; I’ll go find the other junior uncles.” His serious demeanor made Qi Xiaoyu and Xun Qian laugh together.

However, Xun Qian’s face was visibly tired.

He seemed to have a lot to say, but the current setting was clearly not suitable for chatting.

Qi Xiaoyu’s gaze immediately shifted from the stage to Xun Qian. “If you’re so busy, you shouldn’t have come. Let Zhang Han drive you back to rest early.”

Xun Qian quietly held Qi Xiaoyu’s hand under his sleeve. “It’s alright; it’s rare to see Senior Sister on stage.”

He added, “You watch the opera carefully; don’t worry about me.”

Qi Xiaoyu wanted to say more, but on stage, the melody of ‘Deep Night’ had already been played.

The sound of drums, like striking gold and jade, rang out. Mi Heng, dressed in black, wearing a black hat, with handsome features and a refined arrogance, ascended the stage.

It was Qi Wanrou in a male disguise.

“The sky is wide, the earth is vast, the sea has no bounds, success and failure, rise and fall, sleep in dreams.

A torrent of words flows from the mouth, strategies plotted with the tongue’s wind and clouds.

A man must be a pillar of the sky, seeking rank and title with youthful laughter.”

Almost as soon as the first line was sung, applause and cheers erupted from below the stage.

Qi Xiaoyu applauded especially enthusiastically, his hands almost creating afterimages. “Senior Sister sings so wonderfully, with a serene elegance, inner strength, and a vocal range that’s just right in both span and length.”

Xun Qian listened to the opera for a while, and his spirits also recovered somewhat, and he became completely engrossed.

After “Scolding Cao” was finished, Qi Xiaoyu went backstage to put on his makeup.

The reason he chose this opera instead of “The Drunken Concubine” was the same as why he had performed “The Drunken Concubine” at the Laurel Stage before: the concubine’s headdress was too expensive and ornate. He was there to help others raise money, so it was best to perform brilliantly but not outshine anyone.

He was very comfortable performing “Spring Boudoir Dream,” and having practiced diligently recently, winning a full house of applause was almost effortless.

After the performance, he went backstage to take off his makeup, and Xun Qian was already waiting for him there.

They had agreed earlier that Xun Qian would drive him home.

They hadn’t seen each other for ten days, and they both felt they had a lot to talk about.

As Xun Qian waited for him at the door, Qi Xiaoyu saw Qi Fengjian also come in and walk over to Xun Qian, saying something to him.

He was far away, and backstage was noisy, so he couldn’t hear what they said at all, but looking at their expressions and postures, they seemed quite pleasant; at least Qi Fengjian’s attitude was very different from the last time at the Laurel Stage.

He was quite curious about what his master had said to Xun Qian, but as soon as he finished taking off his makeup, Yang Baosen arrived with his huqin.

The leader of the Spring Joy Troupe was also there, along with the leaders and lead performers of several other opera troupes. To thank them for their help, they wanted to introduce them to each other.

Seeing this situation, Qi Xiaoyu knew he wouldn’t be able to leave for a while. He was reluctant to miss the opportunity to meet Yang Baosen, but he also didn’t want to keep Xun Qian waiting. So he simply told Xun Qian to go ahead, and he would go home with his senior brothers from the opera troupe.

The entire day’s performance on May 7th was a huge success. The next day, many newspapers carried related reports. Some arts and entertainment newspapers even devoted a large amount of space to this event. The names of Qi Xiaoyu and Qi Wanrou were both published in the newspaper, and photos were also posted.

Following the Red Moon Troupe’s month-long performances in Shanghai and the impact of this benefit performance, Peking Opera clearly flourished in Shanghai.

The residence on Aitang Road also became lively.

Famous figures from the Peking Opera world came and went.

A few days later, Mr. Yan from the Rongchun Society came to find Qi Fengjian, and the two of them closed themselves in Qi Fengjian’s room to chat.

Midway through, Qi Fengjian also called Xi Yun and Dong Sheng into the room.

At that time, Qi Xiaoyu was practicing his skills in the living room downstairs. When he saw Xi Yun and Dong Sheng come out, their expressions were a bit off.

Especially when the two of them saw him, their expressions became even more noticeably strange.


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