When Spring Burns - Chapter 5

The rain had lightened, dripping steadily from the eaves.

Sheng Tingmian was summoned to stand before Miss He, maintaining a distance of about one meter. At this proximity, she felt even more keenly the innate authority that Miss He carried as someone born into privilege.

Sheng Tingmian recalled what Uncle Guan had told her: Miss He was the eldest daughter of the He family, someone whom the elite of Yanshi all sought to curry favor with. Meanwhile, she, Sheng Tingmian, was merely a flower-dan opera singer performing for an empty theater.

Under Miss He’s gaze, Sheng Tingmian found herself too intimidated to speak.

How had she ever dared to entertain the thought of asking for her help?

“What’s your name?”

He Jianxue lifted her eyelids, her eyes settling on the young girl before her.

The girl bit her lip and replied shyly, “Miss He, my name is Sheng Tingmian, Ting as in ‘hearing,’ Mian as in ‘sleep.’”

He Jianxue nodded in understanding. “You were the one singing ‘Liangzhou Diqi’ yesterday, weren’t you?”

Sheng Tingmian nodded.

“Why have you come to me?”

Though Miss He’s tone was casual, Sheng Tingmian detected an undertone of interrogation. Instinctively, she straightened her posture. “Miss He, I didn’t mean to intrude. I just…”

Frantically searching for a suitable excuse, Sheng Tingmian felt the weight of He Jianxue’s stare like needles on her back. Resigned, she closed her eyes and blurted out, “I wanted to see you.”

“See me?”

He Jianxue’s gaze turned cold. People who came to see her usually fell into two categories: those who sought her favor and those who pitied her disabled legs, offering shallow, hypocritical sympathy while comparing her to her past self or to able-bodied individuals.

Unaware of this, Sheng Tingmian kept her eyes lowered, noticing only the motionless knees on Miss He’s wheelchair, covered by a cashmere blanket.

“I was supposed to perform ‘Huo Xiaoyu’ today, but the rain ruined my plans.”

Sheng Tingmian lifted her head. From the moment she was summoned, she knew that a few pleasantries wouldn’t be enough to win anyone over. Why would a wealthy person like Miss He help her without reason?

Her only option was to rely on her talent, to let Miss He see her singing skills. If Miss He truly appreciated opera, perhaps she could then recommend her aunt’s troupe.

“‘Huo Xiaoyu’… isn’t that a Peking opera piece?”

“Although the original is Peking opera, I can perform it in Kunqu style.”

He Jianxue let out a soft, ambiguous snort. “Did you come here to sing for me in person?”

“Not exactly.” Sheng Tingmian quickly added, “It’s against the rules to perform offstage. It’s just that I heard from Butler Liu that you wanted us to leave once the rain stopped, and I felt it was a shame…”

To cater to Miss He’s preferences, Uncle Guan had planned to adapt some Peking opera pieces into Kunqu style.

‘Huo Xiaoyu’ was the first adaptation, and Uncle Guan had sent her to test whether Miss He would like it.

“Actually, even after the rain stops… we could still perform.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Sheng Tingmian regretted them, her eyes filled with remorse. “We don’t mean to impose, Miss He. If you don’t feel like listening today, it’s perfectly fine.”

He Jianxue studied her from head to toe. The girl appeared to be around eighteen or nineteen, dressed in a dark blue practice costume with water sleeves and soft floral buttons fastened neatly up to her swan-like neck. The costume reached her knees, revealing bell-bottom jeans underneath and a pair of colorful cloth shoes.

Her deer-like eyes were clear and innocent, suggesting she had been rehearsing just moments before.

“Did Manager Guan send you here?”

The troupe’s interests were aligned. Since she had canceled the performance, the entire troupe had essentially made the trip for nothing, so it made sense for her to come and plead on their behalf.

Sheng Tingmian quickly shook her head, afraid of implicating Uncle Guan, and hurriedly explained, “I came on my own. Uncle Guan had no idea.”

He Jianxue remained silent for a moment. “Take a seat.”

Sheng Tingmian froze for a second, glancing at the assistant and then at Miss He in the wheelchair. Seeing no objection from them, she cautiously sat down.

The assistant brought over afternoon tea and arranged it on the table.

Sheng Tingmian was puzzled.

He Jianxue picked up a cup of hot coffee and gestured, “Help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

Sheng Tingmian initially intended to decline, but her stomach betrayed her with a growl, and her ears flushed red.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Miss He’s slender, elegant fingers holding the coffee cup, the large ruby ring on her finger gleaming vividly.

Perhaps Miss He wasn’t as unapproachable as she seemed.

“Well… I won’t stand on ceremony then, Miss He.”

Sheng Tingmian selected a small cake adorned with a cherry.

Perhaps noticing that eating the cake alone was too rich, the assistant poured her a glass of plum wine.

Sheng Tingmian accepted it shyly. “Thank you.”

She took a small sip, found it delicious, and ended up drinking the entire glass in one go.

The assistant paused, then poured her another glass. By the time she realized it, the young girl had nearly finished the entire bottle of plum wine and had almost polished off all the afternoon tea desserts.

The assistant watched as Sheng Tingmian leaned one hand on the table, the other clutching a small spoon, with a half-eaten pastry in front of her. Her head drooped, nodding like a pecking chick.

Just moments ago, she had been eating happily. The assistant had a bad feeling and tried to tap her shoulder. Before she could even make contact, the girl slumped over the table, resting her head on her right arm, and fell asleep.

He Jianxue heard the commotion and glanced over, only to see Sheng Tingmian’s face flushed red as she lay there, drunk.

“Why did you give her so much plum wine?”

The assistant blamed herself. “I saw she liked it. I had no idea her alcohol tolerance was so low.”

It was plum fruit wine, with almost no alcohol content.

Who would have thought she could get drunk from it?

Outside, the rain continued to fall, and the girl was dressed lightly. He Jianxue frowned slightly. “Take her to a guest room to rest. Let her leave when she wakes up.”

“Yes.”

The assistant took Sheng Tingmian away to settle her in, then returned to call a servant to clear the leftover desserts from the table before refilling a cup of hot coffee.

When Miss He was alone, she often sat by herself for the entire afternoon, rarely disturbed by anything.

So, while the young girl was enjoying her desserts, the assistant had taken it upon herself to entertain her, not wanting to disrupt Miss He’s quiet repose.

The rain lasted a long time, only stopping in the evening. The members of the Tianxing Troupe bid their farewells and left.

As night fell, He Jianxue was assisted with her bedtime routine and had just settled down to sleep when a faint, melodious opera singing suddenly echoed through the vast mansion.

“Calling my maid to open the dressing case,
I face the mirror to arrange my cloud-like hair.
Tying up the dark tresses, powdering my face,
I draw my brows and eyes, adorning myself with floral hairpins…”

The singing went on for ten minutes, frightening the servants so much that they turned on all the lights, thinking a ghost had invaded the house.

“Miss He, it seems the Tianxing Troupe left her behind.”

The assistant wheeled He Jianxue to the guest room, released the wheelchair handles, and pushed the door open. The scene inside was rather startling.

A slender figure, dressed in a dark blue opera costume, with her black hair flowing loosely, was waving her water sleeves and gesturing in traditional opera style, her voice softly singing the lyrics.

“Miss He, I’ll go wake her up.”

“Wait.”

He Jianxue called out to stop her. The assistant was a bit puzzled but still stepped aside as instructed.

He Jianxue listened carefully for a moment. “Her vocal technique is somewhat different from yesterday’s.”

The assistant tried to discern where the difference lay, but despite having listened alongside Miss He so many times, she still couldn’t pinpoint what had changed.

To her, it all sounded pretty much the same.

He Jianxue didn’t press her and continued listening. If yesterday’s operatic falsetto was as lively and melodious as a nightingale’s song, today’s falsetto was even softer, more delicate, and carried a lingering, distant tenderness.

Was it because she had been drinking?

“Freshly done, the dragon-shaped hairpin gleams in my coiled chignon,
Paired floral hairpins adorn both sides.
Leaving the dressing table, I call out softly,
Huan Sha, help me change into my silk gown.
Taking time to dress is not mere delay,
Every woman does the same, I’d say.
Once more, I gaze into the mirror’s reflection,
In my haste, I forgot my purple jade hairpin.”

In the quiet room, only Sheng Tingmian’s voice remained. Aside from Miss He, everyone else wore complicated expressions.

After finishing her song, the young girl lay back down on the bed and went to sleep.

The others: “…”

The woman in the wheelchair inexplicably curved her lips into a faint smile.