When Spring Burns - Chapter 33

Evening arrived with a mournfully beautiful sunset.

Sheng Tingmian returned home with a heavy heart, only to find her sister sitting in the courtyard admiring the camellias.

Noises and voices drifted from the garden, piquing her curiosity. She walked over and saw several people bustling about, apparently transplanting a tree into the yard.

“Sister, what are they doing?”

He Jianxue turned at her arrival, her mood noticeably brightening as if struck by a pleasant thought. “They’re planting golden camellias, a particularly difficult variety to cultivate.”

The gardeners had spent months just preparing the proper growing conditions for the golden camellias, which required specific air humidity and shading.

“Golden camellias…” Sheng Tingmian murmured. The name alone evoked images of camellias shimmering like gold, and she couldn’t help but anticipate the day they would bloom gloriously in the courtyard.

Her gaze lifted to the woman beside her, whose noble elegance always captivated her. As refined and dignified as the camellias themselves, Sheng Tingmian felt both fortunate and blessed that such a person was her sister.

Amid her reflections, she inevitably recalled the day’s events.

Sister Siyi had confessed her feelings, would there come a time when her own sister would start a family of her own?

How long could they remain sisters?

After all, she was merely an adopted sister.

Watching the distant figures tending to the newly planted golden camellia, a wave of melancholy washed over Sheng Tingmian.

All feasts must eventually end. How many times would she witness these golden camellias bloom? Once? Twice? Would countless future viewings be shared between her sister, her husband, and their daughter?

A faint sorrow brushed her heart. Sheng Tingmian averted her eyes. “Sister, Sister Siyi came to the theater today…”

He Jianxue turned to face her. “To confess?”

Sheng Tingmian nodded, meeting her sister’s gaze earnestly. “I turned her down.”

He Jianxue pressed her crimson lips together. “Well done. Clean and decisive.”

Sheng Tingmian lowered her eyes. “But… I think I hurt her. She seemed really upset when she left.”

Noticing her pity for Ji Siyi, He Jianxue frowned slightly. “You’re overthinking it. She came to drown her sorrows with me this afternoon. She was upset at first, but then she remembered it took her nine years abroad to graduate and let it go.”

She added coolly, “Don’t feel guilty. You owe her nothing.”

Comforted by her sister’s words, Sheng Tingmian felt considerably better. Her sister truly saw things clearly, with just a few words, she had dispelled her worries.

“Thank you for guiding me, sister. I won’t dwell on this anymore.”

As Sheng Tingmian prepared to go inside, she remembered something else. “Sister, the theater is closed tomorrow for the weekend. May I invite Du Jingya, we’re performing The Jade Hairpin together, to come rehearse?”

“No need to ask me about such things. Bring whoever you like.”

Realizing her sister meant for her to treat this place as her own home without constant reporting, Sheng Tingmian’s voice lifted cheerfully. “Thank you, sister.”

…

Over the weekend, Du Jingya arrived by car. Stunned by the He residence’s garden-like grandeur, she hadn’t realized Sheng Tingmian came from such wealth.

But Sheng Tingmian dismissed it casually. “This is my sister’s home.”

Only then did Du Jingya understand, this was the home of their theater troupe’s investor. It was just that Miss He adored Sheng Tingmian so much she had adopted her as a sister.

Though such doting was indeed rare.

Sheng Tingmian brought her to the opera stage, and Du Jingya marveled, “How come your sister’s house even has an opera stage? Was your sister’s family landlords in the past?”

In her understanding, who would build a residence with a dedicated opera stage nowadays? If it weren’t for the internet expanding communication channels, this would almost be abandoned by the times.

“Well… I’m not too sure either. The stage was already here the first time I came.”

She had sung on it many times and earned quite a few rewards from her sister.

Sheng Tingmian thought of her sister’s mother, He Gulan, and guessed that she might have been the one who built it.

They found a sound system; without a percussion troupe to provide the drumming and gongs, they had to use the sound equipment for accompaniment.

Changing into their practice costumes with water sleeves, Sheng Tingmian wore pink, while Du Jingya, playing the young male role, wore misty blue.

The two began their rehearsal. When it was time for Sheng Tingmian, playing the immortal nun Chen Miaochang, to make her entrance, Du Jingya, embodying the scholar Pan Bizheng, earnestly acted alongside her.

Sheng Tingmian’s hands were slender and elegant, her pale pink nails glowing with a healthy sheen. Her opera gestures always carried more grace than others, her eyes lively and spirited, her singing uniquely charming, truly resembling a celestial nun who had just stepped into the path of immortality.

From start to finish, their rehearsal went flawlessly, no mistakes, no forgotten lines, a perfect collaboration.

Earlier, when He Jianxue invested in the theater troupe, she implemented major reforms at the theater. The props that were replaced were deemed too wasteful to discard by Sheng Tingmian, so she had them moved here.

Thus, on both sides of the stage stood rows of props like tasseled spears, long spears, horsewhips, and dusters.

Adhering to the principle of balancing work and rest, the two each picked up a tasseled spear and began practicing spearplay.

It had been a while since Sheng Tingmian handled a tasseled spear, and her hands felt a bit eager. She executed moves like the standing spear flourish, throat slash, back flourish, and spear toss. Thankfully, she hadn’t grown rusty, she could be a Kunqu opera huadan as well as a Beijing opera martial female role.

While sparring with Du Jingya, Sheng Tingmian forgot that she was wearing a Kunqu practice costume with long water sleeves, which were entirely unsuitable for spearplay. In her distraction, the water sleeves tangled around the spear, sending a sharp pain through her wrist. She gasped and let go, falling to the ground.

Seeing this, Du Jingya quickly set down her spear, crouched in front of her, and asked with concern, “Sheng Tingmian, are you okay?”

“It hurts so much…” Sheng Tingmian lifted her right hand, the water sleeve covering it. Du Jingya gently pulled aside the sleeve tangled around her wrist and began to massage it.

“Probably nothing serious, right?” Du Jingya asked anxiously. “Should we go to the hospital?”

Sheng Tingmian furrowed her delicate brows and lightly moved her wrist. Du Jingya held her breath and leaned in closer. For a moment, both pairs of eyes were fixed intently on that pale wrist, checking if it was truly injured.

Completely unaware of the figure below the stage, who was watching them with a cold expression.

He Jianxue had just returned from the corporation and, not finding Sheng Tingmian in the house, remembered that she had mentioned bringing someone over to rehearse today. She came to the opera stage to see how their practice was going.

Unexpectedly, the first thing she saw was this scene.

Du Jingya was half-kneeling in front of her younger sister. Perhaps due to her background as an opera performer and her somewhat masculine features, she carried a dignified bearing that made her younger sister appear even more slender and delicate.

Especially when Du Jingya took Sheng Tingmian’s wrist to help her up, He Jianxue felt as if she were witnessing the scholar and the immortal nun stepping right out of The Jade Hairpin.

Seeing that Sheng Tingmian was still in pain, Du Jingya picked up the fallen spear and returned it to its place, then helped her down from the stage.

As soon as they stepped down, they saw He Jianxue standing before them, having arrived at some unknown moment.

Du Jingya explained, “She got hit by the prop spear while practicing with it. I’m helping her apply some medicated wine.”

Sheng Tingmian couldn’t quite bring herself to look at her sister, afraid that He Jianxue would think she had been fooling around instead of rehearsing properly. “Sis…”

He Jianxue watched them quietly, her gaze inadvertently sweeping over their nearly clasped hands, her sister’s slender, pale, almost artistic hand being held firmly in another’s palm.

She signaled with her eyes for them to go inside.

Receiving her permission, the two hurried into the house.

Du Jingya didn’t use the medicine brought by the servant, as opera performers often carry their own medicated wine for minor bumps and bruises.

“Luckily, I brought both the red and white bottles.” Du Jingya applied the red bottle first, then the white one two or three minutes later.

Usually, the swelling would go down by the next day. Though it wasn’t clear if there was any serious injury, with the competition approaching, it was better to be safe and apply the medicine.

Sheng Tingmian held her left arm across her waist, then touched her right side and winced in pain. “Ah, I think my waist got hit by the spear too, Du Jingya. Could you help me apply some medicine there as well?”

“Sure, lift your clothes up.”

Sheng Tingmian tugged up the right side of her shirt, revealing her slender waist. He Jianxue happened to pass by the living room and saw this scene, pausing mid-step.

“I’m going to start now, bear with it,” Du Jingya said as she poured medicated wine into her palm, rubbing it a few times to warm it up.

“I shouldn’t have been so playful with the spear. If my hand swells up tomorrow, I won’t even be able to put on makeup,” Sheng Tingmian lamented, her eyes full of regret as she stared at the mural on the wall.

“Is this pressure okay?”

“Ah, it hurts! You’re so strong, even stronger than my aunt.”

“Hehe, sorry, sorry, I’ll be gentler.”

Sheng Tingmian grew worried again: “And my sister saw us earlier. She must think we’re slacking off, playing around instead of rehearsing properly.”

“Your sister isn’t the troupe leader, so she probably isn’t that strict, right?” Du Jingya then remembered that Miss He was, after all, their troupe’s investor. Seeing them get injured while messing around instead of rehearsing definitely didn’t leave a good impression.

“Maybe we should find a park to practice in tomorrow.”

Just as Sheng Tingmian was considering the suggestion, someone coughed behind them. Their expressions changed instantly, and they quickly stood up from the sofa, both staring at the newcomer.

“Miss He…”

“Sis…”

He Jianxue saw them standing shoulder to shoulder, four water sleeves hanging at their sides, looking as if they were united in fear, as though she were some kind of monster.

Sheng Tingmian and Du Jingya exchanged a glance, bracing themselves for a scolding. But after a moment, He Jianxue simply walked past them without a word and headed toward the study.

The two breathed a sigh of relief.

“Miss He didn’t say anything.”

Sheng Tingmian found it strange too. As it was getting late, Du Jingya packed her things to leave, and Sheng Tingmian saw her out.

He Jianxue remained in the study all evening without emerging. Sheng Tingmian assumed she was busy with work and didn’t disturb her.

After taking a bath, the effects of the medicated wine had mostly worn off. Sheng Tingmian decided to reapply it herself.

Fortunately, Du Jingya had left her both the red and white bottles, advising her to apply them over the next couple of days to avoid affecting her performance in the competition.

Just as she unscrewed the bottle cap, she noticed someone entering the room from the corner of her eye. She looked up. “Sis, are you done with work?”

He Jianxue noticed the red bottle of medicinal wine in her hand and was reminded of the scene from earlier in the day. She walked over, took the bottle with practiced ease, and asked, “Where did you get hurt today?”

Sheng Tingmian was momentarily taken aback, lifting her gaze to meet the gentle eyes of her sister, who now seemed far more tender than the sister who had walked away without a word earlier.

“My wrist,” she replied, raising her right wrist toward her.

He Jianxue’s method of applying the medicine was slightly different. She poured the medicinal wine into her palm, took Sheng Tingmian’s hand, and pressed her palm directly against the wrist bone, rubbing slowly until the area grew warm.

Sheng Tingmian could feel the pressure of her sister’s hand, wherever her palm touched, warmth spread through her skin.

“I don’t recall any spear-play in the plot of The Jade Hairpin.”

Here it comes, she thought, it was finally being brought up.

Sheng Tingmian looked at her with a pitiful expression and admitted honestly, “I was fooling around with the spear and accidentally got the sleeve tangled around the hilt. That’s how I got hurt. But we did rehearse once before playing with the spear.”

They hadn’t been slacking off in their rehearsals. They had just wanted to relieve the tension by playing with the spear for a bit, balancing work and rest. They had originally planned to play for only ten minutes before returning to practice.

Who would have thought that in those ten minutes, something would go wrong?

He Jianxue sighed as she looked into her pitiful eyes. “Don’t play around these next couple of days. The competition is coming up, don’t let a small mistake keep you off the stage.”

“I understand, sis,” Sheng Tingmian replied, taking her words to heart.

Seeing her earnest attitude, He Jianxue said nothing more. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Sheng Tingmian withdrew her hand, flexing her wrist. It seemed much better, her sister’s technique appeared more effective than Du Jingya’s patting method. “No, sis.”

Unbeknownst to her, the woman in front of her darkened at these words.

He Jianxue stared at her for a long moment. Earlier, she had allowed Du Jingya to tend to the injury on her waist, but now, when it was her turn to apply the medicine, she claimed there was no injury?

This subtle distinction made He Jianxue feel somewhat uncomfortable.

“What about the injury on your waist? Has it healed?”

Sheng Tingmian only then remembered. “Oh right, the one on my waist.”

“…”

Her delayed reaction only irritated He Jianxue further. It wasn’t a matter of preferential treatment after all, she had simply forgotten.

And yet, He Jianxue had genuinely felt upset over that assumption.

She felt a flicker of confusion at her own unusual reaction. What was wrong with her?

“Lift your clothes,” He Jianxue pushed the thought aside and poured more medicinal wine into her palm.

Sheng Tingmian obediently complied, leaning forward on the sofa and lifting the edge of her shirt. The moment her sister’s palm made contact, a strange shiver ran through her body, and her toes curled tightly at the end of the sofa.

As her sister’s palm moved in slow circles, she began to feel something peculiar…