DCFRP Extra 29

TL: Hua

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The winter of the twelfth year of the Republic of China came exceptionally early.

It was only the end of October, but the biting cold wind forced people to put on cotton-padded coats to keep warm.

Especially if there was frost the night before, the next day, it was so cold that people were shivering.

The backstage of the Laurel Stage had a charcoal fire burning all day long.

A pot of glowing red charcoal was also placed beside Qi Xiaoyu.

But the cold still made Qi Xiaoyu shiver, and even the hand he used to take his head ornaments trembled slightly.

He had just returned from performing on Broadway last week, and tonight was his first performance at the Laurel Stage since his return.

Because his performance on Broadway was very successful and received enthusiastic acclaim from foreigners who are accustomed to opera, tonight’s performance was even more grand than usual.

The Laurel Stage had posted posters long ago and added several hundred tickets for sale, which were all sold out in less than an afternoon.

There were an extremely large number of opera fans watching tonight, almost crowding the Laurel Stage to the point of bursting.

Some of them were old fans of Qi Xiaoyu who hadn’t seen his performances for several months and couldn’t wait to satisfy their craving.

Others had heard of Qi Xiaoyu’s reputation from the newspapers, knew about his achievements abroad, and wanted to come and witness his talent firsthand.

To meet the expectations of the fans, Qi Xiaoyu wore his thin stage costume and sang on stage for a full four hours, without missing a single act.

Having just gone through a long journey and not yet rested, singing on stage like this almost made him lose all sensation from the cold.

“Oh dear, it’s really cold this winter. Boss Qi, you’ve had a hard night,” Manager Wu of the theater said, stirring the charcoal fire to make it burn brighter, flattering him in a fawning tone.

In the past two or three years, his attitude towards Qi Xiaoyu had become increasingly polite and considerate.

After all, many places were now vying to invite Qi Xiaoyu to perform, and some theaters were even offering ten gold bars for him to sing for one night.

Ten gold bars, and all large yellow ones! Good heavens, that was more money than many people could earn in a lifetime.

Fortunately, Qi Xiaoyu was sentimental and had stayed at their Laurel Stage all along, so he had to serve him well.

“Manager Wu, you’re too kind. It’s my duty,” Qi Xiaoyu said with a smile, holding his hands over the fire to warm them.

The red-hot charcoal reflected on his fair fingers. After a long while, the numb feeling from the cold finally disappeared, and he could feel the blood flowing under his skin again.

Three years had passed, and Qi Xiaoyu was no longer the young actor who had just arrived in Shanghai. Now he had become a big name in the opera world, the real Boss Qi, a one-man show, with only his name recognized on the posters.

Qi Xiaoyu’s words were very polite, but Manager Wu didn’t dare to take them at face value. He chuckled twice, noticing the tired look on Qi Xiaoyu’s face, and stopped talking for the moment.

Qi Xiaoyu had now completely shed his youthful naivety. His demeanor and tone, every word and phrase, were well-controlled and polite yet carried a hint of authority, making people feel comfortable while also daring not to underestimate him.

After Qi Xiaoyu warmed himself by the fire for a while and removed all his makeup, Manager Wu continued, “Many fans outside haven’t left yet. They’re waiting for you. Several newspapers also want to do an interview. Do you want to see them tonight? Or should I have them dismissed?”

“Let’s see them all. It’s so cold today; it must be hard for them.”

“Alright, I’ll go arrange it now,” Manager Wu said, turning back to have someone bring a cotton-padded coat for Qi Xiaoyu to put on. Just as he was about to leave, he turned back again and added, “Oh, right, I just saw that the reporter surnamed Chu is here too.”

Qi Xiaoyu paused in his movements. He knew who Manager Wu meant by “the reporter surnamed Chu”—Chu He from the Shen Bao newspaper. Before he went to Broadway, Chu He had come to him several times under the guise of interviews, being a little too enthusiastic. “It’s fine.”

When he came out after changing his clothes, Qi Wanrou, Xi Yun, and the others had also packed up their things and followed Qi Xiaoyu out together.

Many people were crowded at the door.

There were reporters and opera fans.

As soon as Qi Xiaoyu’s slender figure in a cyan-gray padded long gown appeared, a flash of camera lights went off.

Reporters on both sides held up cameras and shouted loudly, “Mr. Qi, look this way.”

“Over here, over here, Mr. Qi.”

Over the past three years, there have been theater troupes performing charity shows to support the bank, and later on, they have performed several charity shows to donate money for the war, which has earned the actors a good reputation.

Then, under Xun Qian’s leadership and support, Qi Xiaoyu adapted many traditional plays and took them abroad for public performances, all of which were huge successes.

Accumulating such achievements, Qi Xiaoyu’s popularity and prestige in Shanghai soared.

Someone else squeezed through the crowd to Qi Xiaoyu and asked him, “I heard that tickets for Mr. Qi’s performances on Broadway sold for seven US dollars each. Does this sensation indicate that Peking Opera is better than Western opera? Mr. Qi, which do you think is better, Peking Opera or Western opera?”

However, the reporter who had squeezed to the front row was quickly pulled back by a tall man with gold-rimmed glasses, who reprimanded him, “If you push forward any more, why don’t we just let everyone interview you?”

“Chu He, what’s gotten into you?” The reporter who had been stopped turned back and said to Chu He with annoyance.

Chu He raised his eyebrows. “Mind your own business. Just don’t push.”

Qi Xiaoyu naturally noticed the commotion beside him, but he didn’t have time to pay much attention to it, because another reporter on the other side asked, “Can you tell us how you feel about performing on Broadway? Are there any plans to perform abroad in the future? Which countries will you go to?”

“This year, the relationship between China and Japan is even more tense. Will Mr. Qi still go to Japan for performances?”

“Mr. Qi…”

Qi Xiaoyu patiently answered the reporters’ questions.

“The success of the performances abroad is not solely my achievement but the charm of Peking Opera itself. As for Peking Opera and Western opera, they are like the lyrics of traditional Chinese opera and sonnets, both treasures of history, each with its own brilliance.”

“As for future plans, it depends on the subsequent arrangements of the troupe. If there are any, I hope everyone will help support them.”

Qi Xiaoyu’s speaking speed was just right, neither too fast nor too slow, keeping pace with the reporters’ note-taking.

This was one of the skills he had gradually learned after Gu Zizhen handed over the troupe’s foreign affairs to him.

However, after he finished answering the standard questions, a tabloid reporter immediately eagerly tried to pry into his private life.

“Mr. Qi, is it convenient for you to talk about your relationship with Commander Xun? Are you two still lovers, or is your relationship still good? Why has Commander Xun rarely appeared at the Laurel Stage recently?”

This reporter’s voice was loud and clear. As soon as the question came out, the crowded doorway suddenly fell silent.

The atmosphere was a bit strange.

Everyone’s eyes were fixed on Qi Xiaoyu, bright as torches.

The relationship between Qi Xiaoyu and Xun Qian had been the most enduring topic in Shanghai in recent years. Some said they were a match made in heaven, some said they had broken up long ago, and some said that Xun Qian had initially forced Qi Xiaoyu, but now that Qi Xiaoyu was famous and had grown wings, he wouldn’t put up with it anymore. Others said that Xun Qian was tired of doting on Qi Xiaoyu and now wanted to support someone else.

In short, rumors about them never ceased and always came up with new twists.

Qi Wanrou and Xi Yun, standing on either side of Qi Xiaoyu, paused and lowered their heads, unable to suppress their smiles.

Xun Qian now ran to their house every day, so naturally he came to the Laurel Stage less often.

Moreover, it was Qi Xiaoyu who didn’t let him come.

Since Qi Xiaoyu had become increasingly famous, everything he did was watched by a crowd of people.

About a year and a half ago, the troupe moved out of Aiting Road and into a Western-style villa on Jufu Road.

This villa was expensive to build, designed by a Spanish architect. It had four floors, each nearly three hundred square meters, with six or seven rooms.

The exterior of the villa was all deep red small square bricks, and all the corners were designed in curves, very elegant and beautiful. It also had a private garden of nearly two hundred square meters in the back.

Buying this villa almost used up the troupe’s entire year’s income.

After seeing the house at the time, Qi Xiaoyu and Gu Zizhen hesitated for a long time between buying and not buying.

In the end, Qi Xiaoyu made the decision, saying that they could just perform a few more plays and make their master’s later years more comfortable.

He chose this villa mainly because it had an elevator.

Qi Fengjian’s health had improved somewhat, but he was old, and his recovery after the stroke was very slow. He relied entirely on a wheelchair for mobility, and stairs were inconvenient for him.

The old Western-style house they had rented before only had one bedroom on the ground floor, with no place for Gu Zizhen to live.

The narrow, long corridor was also inaccessible to wheelchairs.

Moreover, it was damp in winter and stuffy in summer, which was not good for Qi Fengjian’s health.

In short, there were too many inconveniences.

Although the private garden of the new villa was a bit extravagant, it was convenient for the troupe’s apprentices to practice basic skills and vocalizations, and it also provided a place for Qi Fengjian to move around.

However, it was precisely because of this villa that Qi Xiaoyu decided to keep his relationship with Xun Qian as low-key as possible before their wedding.

The Red Moon Troupe had almost emptied most of their savings to buy the villa, but in the mouths of outsiders, it became Xun Qian spending lavishly to keep a mistress in a golden cage, and then many different versions of romantic stories emerged.

To avoid appearing too frequently in gossip tabloids, the two unanimously decided to keep a low profile before their official marriage.

But this still couldn’t stop the reporters’ curiosity, and they would seize any opportunity to ask questions, which was why Manager Wu had just asked Qi Xiaoyu if he wanted to have everyone dismissed.

Chu He also looked at Qi Xiaoyu thoughtfully.

Qi Xiaoyu decided to use his usual method of being vague today, saying nothing, so the reporters would have no material to write about. “Regarding this matter, please forgive me for not being able to comment. Please understand.”

The reporters held their pens for a long time, but seeing that they couldn’t get any substantial information, they all helplessly put their pens down again.

Qi Wanrou, standing beside him, was afraid that they would keep dawdling and she would burst out laughing, so she suggested, “Why don’t we take a group photo? It’s getting cold, so everyone can go back and rest early after taking the photo.”

Everyone looked at each other and nodded. “Okay, come on, everyone make way; let’s take a group photo.”

The reporters directed the people around them to clear the space, wanting to take a large group photo of the opera troupe that had just returned with honor from Broadway.

Qi Xiaoyu pulled Qi Wanrou and Xi Yun to his side, and the others stood in order of height.

In the past two years, Qi Xiaoyu and Gu Zizhen had recruited some new apprentices. There were many people, filling two or three rows.

With another “snap,” a group photo of the Red Moon Troupe was taken.

After all the commotion, surrounded by fans, Qi Xiaoyu finally managed to leave the Laurel Stage.

At the gate, everyone got into rickshaws in batches.

Qi Wanrou sat down in a rickshaw, wrapped her cloak tightly, inclined her head, and asked Qi Xiaoyu, who was standing by the side, “Are you coming back tonight?”

Qi Xiaoyu nodded. “Yes, I’ll be back later. You guys take care of Master and go to sleep first.”

Xi Yun, rubbing his hands to warm them, said with dissatisfaction, “Xiaoyu, you just got back, and I haven’t even gotten the chance to catch up with you. Now you’re already going to see that Commander.”

Qi Wanrou laughed. “If you’re capable, you can marry a wife in the future and still stay at the opera troupe every day, not going back to see your wife.”

After saying that, she urged, “Xiaoyu, hurry up and go. Don’t keep Commander Xun waiting.”

Xun Qian didn’t come to see the play because he wanted to avoid those tabloid reporters, but they were already waiting near the theater.

Qi Xiaoyu responded with a smile, waved his hand, and watched the rickshaw drive into the cold night. Only then did he turn a corner and walk into a nearby alley.

He hadn’t walked more than a few steps when he heard footsteps behind him.

He looked back and saw that it was Chu He who had followed him.

Qi Xiaoyu looked ahead and could already see Xun Qian’s car, so he stopped and turned around. “Mr. Chu, is there something I can help you with?”

Chu He looked intently at Qi Xiaoyu, then turned his head to look in the direction where Qi Wanrou and the others had left. “Why didn’t you leave with Miss Qi?”

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh.” Chu He seemed to be choked up for a moment.

“I wanted to request a solo interview with you. Would that be convenient? You can decide on the time.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have time recently.”

“You may have to wait until my next performance ends.”

A helpless smile appeared on Chu He’s face. He knew that Qi Xiaoyu was subtly rejecting him. Qi Xiaoyu hadn’t even decided on his next public performance, let alone whether he would have time after it.

He smiled and said, “Where are you going? Shall I call a car for you?”

Chu He had been rejected three times in a row. The helpless expression on his face was even more pronounced than before, but he didn’t leave. Then, suddenly, as if by magic, he produced a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

A bouquet of red tulips with gold edges, like a burning flame in the dark night.

Chu He looked quite refined with his glasses, so this overly romantic, somewhat petty bourgeois gesture didn’t really suit him.

But he held up the tulips and said, “Since I can’t approach you through work, can I try a different way? I heard people say that you and Commander Xun have separated. Have you considered…”

Qi Xiaoyu was stunned for a moment, looking at him with a somewhat embarrassed and speechless expression. Well, the rumors about his relationship with Xun Qian had definitely taken on another version.

As Chu He was speaking, a Lincoln suddenly drove up with a “swish” and stopped abruptly beside them.

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