When Spring Burns - Chapter 39

The study was quiet as He Jianxue ate zongzi from her plate, then forked a piece and held it out to the girl.

“Why didn’t you stay at your aunt’s place today?”

Sheng Tingmian stared blankly at the zongzi before her, then without hesitation took the bite her sister offered. “Because I wanted you to have warm zongzi. The flavor changes when they’re reheated after getting cold.”

“That’s thoughtful of you.” A smile touched He Jianxue’s lips as she noticed a grain of sticky rice clinging to Sheng Tingmian’s mouth.

Yet her mind involuntarily flashed back to Du Jingya wiping someone’s mouth, her eyes darkening imperceptibly. Setting down her fork, she reached naturally toward Sheng Tingmian’s lips, gently brushing away the grain of rice.

The moment her sister’s fingertip touched her lips, Sheng Tingmian froze, staring dumbfounded without knowing how to react.

Only when the finger withdrew did she stammer, “Sister?”

“You had some rice on your mouth,” He Jianxue explained.

At this, Sheng Tingmian’s ears burned crimson. She looked at the woman with concern. “Sister, I don’t usually eat like this.”

Her sister always maintained elegant table manners, poised and proper, while she, as the younger sister, had rice stuck to her face with no semblance of decorum.

“So how do you usually eat?” He Jianxue teased with interest. “Last time you drank juice, it seemed to get around your mouth too.”

And Du Jingya had wiped it off for her.

With the evidence mounting, Sheng Tingmian’s expression fell. Explanations felt useless now. Biting her lip, she finally managed, “I’ll be more careful next time.”

Seeing how seriously she took it, He Jianxue found her irresistibly amusing. “You don’t need to be so formal at home. Having a little rice on your mouth is no big deal.”

Somewhat reassured, Sheng Tingmian tried to change the subject. “Sister, do you know how to make zongzi?”

“Never tried. Is it difficult?”

“Well… it’s not hard for me, but for you…”

He Jianxue raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Suppressing a laugh, Sheng Tingmian realized she couldn’t demonstrate right now. Suddenly remembering a video, she pulled out her phone and played it.

“This is me making zongzi. You can see for yourself how difficult it is.”

As she spoke, she turned the phone around and placed it on the table.

He Jianxue watched the video showing a square table laden with various fillings and glutinous rice. Morning sunlight spilled into the room, casting patterns on the wall. In this homely atmosphere sat a lovely girl wrapping zongzi.

“What are you doing, Du Jingya? Slacking off?”

Just as He Jianxue focused on the zongzi-wrapping technique, Du Jingya’s name abruptly appeared. He Jianxue’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

“Was Du Jingya at your aunt’s too?”

Sheng Tingmian nodded. “My aunt probably invited her. She comes over every year.”

“Did you grow up together?”

“No. A few years ago, Du Jingya’s family forced her to work in a factory instead of going to school. She hated factory work but had no choice. When my aunt found out, she let her perform in the opera troupe. That finally got her family off her back.”

“Why do you ask, sister?” Sheng Tingmian inquired curiously.

“No reason.” He Jianxue averted her gaze, no longer interested in the zongzi-making demonstration, the video was filled with Du Jingya and her sister laughing and chatting together.

Sheng Tingmian thought her sister wanted to talk about Du Jingya, so she said, “Actually, Du Jingya can perform many scenes with me. She can play martial male roles and young scholar roles. She has a somewhat androgynous look, even more handsome than many boys.”

“Sister.” He Jianxue interrupted her, placing the empty plate in front of her. “When you have time, why don’t you teach me how to make zongzi? Please take this plate out for me, I need to get back to work.”

“…”

Sheng Tingmian felt the interruption was somewhat abrupt. Usually, her sister wouldn’t change the subject so bluntly. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed He Jianxue had already turned her attention to the computer. She attributed it to her sister genuinely being busy, and her doubts vanished. Picking up the empty plate, she prepared to leave.

“Then I won’t… disturb you anymore.”

…

After the Dragon Boat Festival, Sheng Tingmian resumed her daily routine of going to and from the theater.

Life was peaceful and uneventful. Occasionally, she would go out for meals with her sister. Notably, her sister had specially invited highly literate drama teachers, who had long retired, to come back and strongly recommended they write new Kunqu opera scripts. After all, the classic Kunqu repertoire was limited, and performing the same pieces over and over would eventually bore the audience, wearing down even the most ardent enthusiasm.

Only through continuous innovation and fresh content could Kunqu culture be preserved and passed down.

Some master playwrights adapted Jin Yong’s wuxia universe, while others wrote entirely new themes for zhezixi (short plays). Unlike novels or essays, writing Kunqu opera was far from straightforward, it heavily tested the writer’s literary skills and understanding of Kunqu culture.

Du Jingya sighed in admiration, “These teachers are practically all retired, some of them even veteran instructors from the Shanghai Theatre Academy and the Central Academy of Drama. For Miss He to bring them out of retirement, it’s resolved my employment worries in one go.”

Sheng Tingmian didn’t understand, “What employment worries? Aren’t we already working?”

Du Jingya replied, “Silly, Kunqu is a niche art. Who knows if the audience will still be interested in two years? Will anyone still come to watch us perform? Will tickets still sell?”

Everyone wished Kunqu could be like the entertainment industry, an evergreen field, never lacking attention or popularity. Introducing new works meant attracting new audiences, which was a positive development for the entire industry.

“Sheng Tingmian, have you ever thought about what we’ll do when we’re old and can’t sing anymore? Switch careers?”

Sheng Tingmian had never really considered the future, though she recalled her aunt nearly going back to teaching.

Du Jingya patted her head, “So you see, your sister is actually rebuilding this industry. Once it becomes profitable and benefits improve, we won’t have to worry about audiences or new students. We won’t need to think about changing careers when we’re old, we can become teachers for the next generation.”

“You think so far ahead.” Sheng Tingmian mused that she hadn’t even considered what her future would hold or whether she’d still be performing.

“It’s not that far off. You don’t know me, if no one comes to watch Kunqu in the future, I’ll have to go work in a factory doing welding.” Du Jingya was actually quite saddened by the thought; everyone wanted stability.

Back when the Liqing Troupe was on the verge of disbanding, her family had already started introducing her to electronics factories with good benefits and high pay.

“Sheng Tingmian, while she’s still unmarried and without a family or children, be good to your sister. Right now, she’s our biggest supporter.”

“Whenever marriage, family, and children were mentioned, Sheng Tingmian’s expression visibly darkened. ‘Does having a family and children mean she’s no longer my sister?’

As soon as she said it, she already knew the answer in her heart.

She just wanted someone to tell her she was wrong.

Du Jingya sat beside her, rolling up the water sleeves of her practice uniform and taking a sip of tea. “Don’t you get it? Your sister isn’t that young anymore, she’s almost thirty. Once she has a family, her focus will naturally shift there. How will she have time for our Liqing Opera Troupe? After all, we’re just a small project she invested in, and I doubt it’s even turned a profit yet.”

“If we keep losing money, can you guarantee her family won’t say anything? What if they cut our funding and leave us to fend for ourselves?”

“Besides, once she has children, if you’re still living in her house, people might talk. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not blood-related. Won’t it feel awkward watching her enjoy family bliss while you’re on the sidelines? Sooner or later, you’ll have to go back to your aunt’s place.”

Sheng Tingmian lowered her gaze and said nothing.

“Look on the bright side. I’ve been through this myself. With siblings at home, you get used to it. Focus more on yourself and your own plans. Even if not for your own sake, think about your aunt. She’s poured her life into the Liqing Opera Troupe. Do you want her to worry about your career and finances even after she retires?”

Du Jingya wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Speaking of which, our Dragon Boat Festival performance was well-received. Even my new account gained tens of thousands of followers. I noticed Mu Ziyin and the others have started accounts as the dean requested and are engaging with fans. Let me figure something out, and we can become the ultimate duo too! When the teachers write new opera scenes, we’ll aim to perform them first.”

“Okay,” Sheng Tingmian replied, still brooding over her sister’s potential marriage and family.

Seeing her gloom, Du Jingya comforted her, “Still worried about your sister? If it comes to it, you and I can live together. We’ll bring your aunt along, and the three of us can make do as a family. We’re all opera performers, if your aunt retires, I’ll still be here. I can sing with you until we’re old.”

Hearing this, Sheng Tingmian felt a little better. “Really? You’ll sing with me until we’re old?”

Du Jingya said, “Absolutely. I won’t get married. Even after retiring, I’ll keep singing, unless I lose my voice.”

Sheng Tingmian rested her head on Du Jingya’s shoulder. “I hope I can sing opera for the rest of my life too.”

Even if her sister eventually started a family and paid less attention to her, at least there would be someone to sing with her in the future.

“Du Jingya, let’s be partners for life. You’ll play the male lead, and I’ll play the female lead. We’ll be the ultimate duo.”

“Sure.”

After work, when Sheng Tingmian returned to the He family, she found He Jianxue already home, changed into different clothes, and seemingly ready to go out.

“Sister, are you going out tonight?”

“There’s a business dinner,” He Jianxue said, picking up her bag. “Go to bed early tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”

Sheng Tingmian noticed her formal attire and caught a faint scent of camellia as she passed by. “Come back early, sister, and don’t drink too much.”

“Got it,” He Jianxue replied with a slight smile, then turned and left, getting into a car and driving away.

After washing up, Sheng Tingmian watched TV in the living room. In the group chat, someone mentioned that in another month, there would be an annual Top Ten Program Awards ceremony, selecting from all the programs broadcasted by CCTV and satellite TV from June of last year to June of this year. Everyone speculated whether their show, The Jade Hairpin, would be chosen.

Mu Ziyin asked, “What are the selection criteria? Ratings?”

Du Jingya added, “Influence? How is that measured?”

Someone else guessed, “Maybe stage effects, the program with the most beautiful stage design wins.”

The debate went on and on, but they could only wait for the results next month, as it wasn’t something they could decide.

Sheng Tingmian yawned, feeling a bit sleepy. She checked the time, it was already 11 p.m., and her sister still hadn’t returned home.

She had no choice but to head back to her bedroom to sleep.

In the dead of night, past midnight, Sheng Tingmian was awakened by noise and realized someone was knocking on the door. She quickly got out of bed to answer it.

As soon as she opened the door, she saw He Jianxue being supported by her assistant.

“Is Sister drunk?” Sheng Tingmian asked with concern, it was the first time she had seen her sister in such a state.

The assistant replied, “Yes, Chairwoman He had a bit too much to drink. I’m helping her back to her room to rest.”

Sheng Tingmian quickly lent a hand, and together they helped He Jianxue onto the bed.

Once she was settled, Sheng Tingmian felt sorry for the assistant and said, “I’ll take care of the rest. You can go back, Assistant Sister.”

The assistant glanced at her and agreed, “Alright.”

After the assistant left, Sheng Tingmian walked to the foot of the bed and removed her sister’s high heels. Hesitating for a moment about what to do next, she soon remembered she needed to take off her sister’s jewelry and change her clothes.

She climbed onto the bed beside He Jianxue, reached behind her neck to unfasten the expensive necklace, then removed her earrings, placing them one by one back into the jewelry box.

After fetching a nightgown from the wardrobe, Sheng Tingmian looked at the woman lying on the bed, wondering how to undress her most easily.

Placing the nightgown at the foot of the bed, she tried to sit He Jianxue up. Unexpectedly, He Jianxue, half-drunk and half-awake, slightly opened her eyes.

Sheng Tingmian’s eyes lit up, her sister wasn’t completely passed out and still had some awareness. “Sister, could you cooperate a bit? I need to help you change your clothes…”

“Is that you, Mianmian?” He Jianxue’s voice was hoarse.

“Yes, it’s me.”

He Jianxue endured the post-drinking headache and sat up with her help, allowing the delicate hands of the person beside her to move over her body, unbuttoning her clothes.

“Sister, didn’t I tell you not to drink so much?” Sheng Tingmian used her body to support her, making it easier to use both hands to undress her.

He Jianxue closed her eyes tightly, still in pain, and rubbed her temples. She let out a vague “Mm,” not fully aware that her response was off-topic.

“What does ‘Mm’ mean?” Sheng Tingmian noticed she wasn’t answering properly and looked up at her in confusion.

He Jianxue opened her eyes and quietly gazed at the young girl so close to her for a while. Her gaze gradually lowered, settling on the girl’s soft, pink lips. Suddenly, in that moment, she couldn’t seem to hear anything, all she saw were those lips moving up and down.

Her eyes darkened.

“Fine, if you don’t want to say anything, that’s okay.”

Sheng Tingmian realized she shouldn’t expect coherent answers from someone who was drunk, as she’d only get meaningless replies.

“Sister, could you lift your arms?”

No response? Had she passed out again?

Sheng Tingmian couldn’t help but look up, but in the next instant, her vision went dark.

A pair of wine-scented red lips pressed against hers without warning.