Chapter 21: Watching the Play by the Rail (2)

Chapter 21 Viewing the Opera from the Balcony (2)

Lan Yunzhen had initially descended the stairs, drawn by the whispers of younger relatives discussing the arrival of the He family to offer congratulations.

Uncertain whether they referred to the He family from the capital or the local one, she had sat distractedly with the old master, listening to the opera for quite some time.

Finally, as the performers on stage reached the climax of their act, she decided to go downstairs for a closer look.

Encountering Xu Kuilin was entirely unexpected.

The assassin targeting Nie Liyu was almost certainly identified, and now the Xiao family had sent him to convey birthday wishes with such a grand display. To outsiders, it inevitably conveyed an air of power and intimidation.

Witnessing Nie Jin’s fury at the second-floor staircase earlier, it was clear the old master’s mood would not be pleasant tonight.

Downstairs, children huddled in a corner, setting off firecrackers. With a sharp whistle, the firecrackers burst into a rapid-fire crackle. Lan Yunzhen had just reached the bottom of the stairs and, unable to see the blind spot, nearly stepped on them. Fortunately, Nie Ti, who had hurried down, pulled her back just in time.

"Children can be so mischievous. Are you hurt anywhere?" Nie Ti examined her from head to toe, her expression full of concern.

Lan Yunzhen smiled and shook her head. "Auntie, your timing was perfect. A moment later, and I would’ve been hit."

Nie Ti chuckled and led her along the small path toward the backyard. "The one you met on the stairs earlier—you should be careful around him."

"Xiao Xian?"

Nie Ti slowed her pace and glanced at her. "His father is an old warlord, and he’s on brotherly terms with the leaders of the Green Gang. Steer clear of him if possible."

Lan Yunzhen asked, "Auntie is worried?"

Nie Ti’s expression grew serious. "You’ve been away from Shanghai for too long and don’t know how deep these waters run. Xiao Xian wasn’t born to the current Xiao family’s first wife, nor was he born to any of the concubines in the household..."

A chill ran down Lan Yunzhen’s spine, but she continued casually, "How could that be? Then is he..."

Nie Ti nodded and lowered her voice. "He was born to a woman outside the family—reportedly from an opera troupe."

A sudden night breeze swept past, and Nie Ti adjusted the embroidered cloud collar of her cheongsam. Gazing at the bamboo grove ahead, where leaves rustled in the wind, she seemed lost in memory. "The old Xiao master was a heavy opium user in his youth. His pipe no longer burned just opium—it consumed his chance for heirs. By his thirties, he had taken in several concubines, yet had only one son. When the eldest Xiao son was in his teens, he fell gravely ill and never recovered. Around that time, the old master learned he had another child outside the family and immediately brought the boy, only a few years old, back to the mansion—just in case something happened to his eldest."

"That boy is the current Xiao Xian," Nie Ti said with a hint of lament. "People say his ruthlessness is inherited from the old master. A few years after he was brought back, the eldest Xiao son went horseback riding with someone, stumbled on a slope, and injured both legs. From then on, he was bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Xiao Xian was just a teenager at the time, yet outsiders claimed he was behind the harm done to his elder brother. If that’s true... such cruelty at such a young age—that’s exactly why I’m telling you to stay away from him."

Nie Ti lightly patted her chest, as if the mere thought of it frightened her.

In the bamboo grove, leaves rustled against each other in the wind. Through the gaps of the swaying shadows, Lan Yunzhen looked up at the elaborately carved opera pavilion.

Under the eaves adorned with carved beams and painted rafters, the pair of red silk lanterns still spun and swayed in the night breeze, swirling endlessly.

Nie Ti, standing close beside her, noticed her prolonged silence and gently patted the back of her hand. "Have I ever steered you wrong? Remember what I’ve told you. Keep it in mind and remind yourself often..."

At the end of the cobblestone path, where the light shone at the exit, two figures appeared—a middle-aged man and woman. Nie Ti’s voice gradually softened.

Lan Yunzhen’s gaze shifted, settling on the approaching figures.

At first, their faces were obscured by the backlight, but as they drew closer, she recognized them.

Nie Ti also noticed. As she finished her words of caution, she glanced over and, upon seeing the woman among the pair, suddenly brightened with a smile. "The old master’s birthday banquet tonight—did you both enjoy the evening?"

The noblewoman was adorned in dazzling jewels, her hair styled in one of the latest fashionable updos—the "swallowtail" perm. A meticulously gelled curl framed her ear, while the ends of her oiled hair curled upward like a swallow’s tail. Her piercing eyes and arched brows radiated shrewdness.

The woman smiled and replied to Nie Ti, "Oh, immensely. We just came from paying our respects to the old master." She gestured behind her toward the path and called out to her daughter, "Come, Wan’er, say hello to your aunt."

Absorbed in her animated conversation with Nie Ti, the noblewoman failed to notice Lan Yunzhen lingering slightly behind her in the dim candlelight of the path.

Lan Yunzhen, however, had her eyes locked on the woman.

The moment the woman's face became slightly clearer under the light, she had been staring at her.

The noblewoman's husband appeared mild-mannered and unassuming, standing dutifully by his wife with a smile as he listened to the two cousins chat about old times.

Nie Ti noticed the noblewoman's daughter finally arriving at the other end of the path and, with a smile, took Lan Yunzhen by the arm to introduce them: "We almost forgot our Zhen'er. You probably haven’t met before—this is my second sister’s daughter, Yun Zhen."

Then, she turned slightly to introduce the others: "This is Mrs. Hu. Her late father was an old friend of the patriarch. And this is her husband, Vice Minister Hu of the Shanghai Transportation Department. With his outstanding achievements and capable governance, it’s only a matter of time before he’s promoted to minister..."

The latter part was clearly meant for the couple’s ears.

Lan Yunzhen listened with a faint smile, saying nothing.

In truth, she didn’t need Nie Ti’s introduction—she already knew exactly who this couple was and could never mistake them.

Hu Qian waved his hand with a chuckle: "That’s a long way off yet, a long way off yet. No need to bring it up now, Third Aunt." His thick eyebrows arched high, and his eyes briefly flickered over Lan Yunzhen’s face. The smile on his lips hadn’t yet faded, but his raised arm suddenly halted mid-air.

From behind Mrs. Yang emerged a young woman, who looked about Lan Yunzhen’s age. She smiled sweetly and greeted Nie Ti: "Auntie."

"The last time I saw you, you were still in girls’ school. Now you’ve blossomed into such an elegant young woman."

Mrs. Yang glanced at her daughter with pride, making pleasant conversation with Nie Ti. Only when there was a pause in conversation did she finally notice the woman beside her. The smile on her lips froze abruptly, her eyes widening in shock as she stared.

Hu Wanxi, unaware of her mother’s reaction, stood elegantly to the side, subtly sizing up Lan Yunzhen—from the delicate pearl-and-kingfisher hair ornaments adorning her meticulously styled, slightly curled hair, down to the imported British Mary Jane shoes with open-toe floral carvings on her feet.

Hu Wanxi withdrew her gaze, quietly made up her mind. With a charming smile, she shifted the lace-embroidered pearl handbag from her right arm to her left and held out her hand: "Hu Wanxi. A pleasure."

Lan Yunzhen lowered her eyes to glance at the slender, white lace-gloved hand, then lifted her gaze, sweeping over Hu Wanxi’s perfectly composed smile.

She looked at her, smiling faintly, her hands resting naturally at her sides—making no move to shake hands.

Hu Wanxi frowned slightly, puzzled by her inaction, but before she could react, Mrs. Yang beside her instinctively grabbed her wrist urgently, turning to her in agitation: "Don’t, Wanxi, don’t..."

What she saw seemed not to be Lan Yunzhen, but another face that filled her with dread. In an instant, she was overcome with panic, clutching Hu Wanxi’s hand and stepping between her and Lan Yunzhen, the tassels on her jade hairpin swaying wildly.

Mrs. Yang’s reaction was unexpected. Hu Wanxi looked at her in surprise, supporting her: "Mother, what’s wrong? Are you unwell?"

Lan Yunzhen remained calm where she stood, her gaze fixed on Mrs. Yang’s flustered figure. Unintentionally, she noticed another pair of eyes lingering on her face. She lifted her gaze and met Hu Qian’s.

The latter wasn’t paying attention to his suddenly distressed wife but had been staring at her for who knew how long, his forehead creased as he repeatedly wiped the fine sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. His expression seemed guilty yet mixed with something more complicated.

Hu Wanxi, unable to support her mother’s weakening legs, shot him a displeased look: "Father, help Mother!"

Hu Qian took one last deep look at Lan Yunzhen’s face, dabbed the cold sweat from his brow with the handkerchief, tucked it hurriedly into the breast pocket of his suit, and moved to support Mrs. Yang.

Nie Ti, observing Mrs. Yang’s pale lips, worried aloud: "Could it be heatstroke? Quickly, take her to the guest room to rest. I’ll call a doctor."

She turned and saw Lan Yunzhen still standing there, relieved, and said with a smile: "Why, we have a doctor right here. Yun Zhen, come take a look—what’s wrong with her?"

Mrs. Yang, supported by her husband and daughter, felt her head spin at the sound of "Yun Zhen," her head throbbing painfully.

At this, Hu Qian couldn’t resist looking at Lan Yunzhen’s face again.

So alike… How strikingly similar… Hu Qian dared not dwell on it further.

Mrs. Yang forced a smile, her eyes darting away from Lan Yunzhen’s face: "Perhaps it’s just low blood sugar. I felt dizzy just now—how embarrassing."

Nie Ti, oblivious to her odd behavior, joked good-naturedly: "You should take better care of yourself. Otherwise, people might think the patriarch’s banquet didn’t serve enough food!"

Hu Wanxi could no longer spare a thought for Lan Yunzhen, instead focusing on helping Mrs. Yang into the carriage to return home. Hu Qian followed behind them, pausing after a few steps to turn back and gaze at Lan Yunzhen, as if wanting to say something but ultimately letting out a low, drawn-out sigh, and with a flick of his sleeve, departed.

Nie Ti remained standing, her eyes still trailing the family of three as she murmured, "They were fine just moments ago—how could this have happened so suddenly?"

A guilty conscience makes for fearful spirits—isn’t that how it always happens?

Lan Yunzhen calmly withdrew her gaze and smiled at Nie Ti. "Don't trouble yourself, Auntie. Everything will be fine."

Nie Ti nodded, gathering her cloud-collar shawl, somewhat reassured. "You’re right."

The two walked side by side along the flagstone path, and as they neared the back door of the main house, the lively sounds of music and dance grew clearer.

The center of the hall had been transformed into a dance floor, where pairs of men and women glided gracefully across the soft red carpet, dancing the elegant waltz to the faint fragrance in the air and the cheerful strains of foreign music, laughing and chatting, carefree in their revelry.

Nie Ti and Lan Yunzhen had just strolled in from the back garden when Nie Ti noticed the musicians in the corner engrossed in playing the tuba and accordion, swept up in the romantic atmosphere. "This is your debut in society since returning to Shanghai. I wonder which young master will have the honor of sharing your first dance?"

Following her teasing gaze, Lan Yunzhen saw several scions of good families standing near the long table laden with fruit platters and champagne. Some hid behind raised glasses, while others made no secret of their admiration, casting glances her way.

Lan Yunzhen gave a wry smile. "Auntie, please don’t tease me."

Just then, a familiar figure approached.

Xu Kuilin held a champagne flute, wearing gold-wire spectacles, dressed in a khaki-checkered vest over a white shirt and tailored trousers, every inch the gentleman. He glanced at Lan Yunzhen first before greeting Nie Ti with gentlemanly courtesy. "It’s been a while since I last saw you, Third Aunt. How have you been keeping?"

"Very well, very well, I’m perfectly fine," Nie Ti replied with a smile, her gaze flickering briefly to Lan Yunzhen beside her, unable to hide her amusement. "Madam Hu probably hasn’t gone far yet—I should check if they need any further assistance."

She gave Lan Yunzhen an encouraging pat before walking away.

Lan Yunzhen watched her go with a resigned smile. Only when Nie Ti was out of sight did she turn her attention back to Xu Kuilin. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Xu Kuilin chuckled, lowering his champagne flute. "Must there be a reason? This is a festive evening—I thought your mood might be lighter."

Lan Yunzhen smiled noncommittally, merely tilting her head slightly to examine the scar marring his right brow. "Did you ever call that Irish doctor whose number I gave you?"

Xu Kuilin nodded, answering systematically. "I called, visited his clinic, and completed all the necessary examinations."

How artfully he parried, yet avoided the very answers she sought.

Lan Yunzhen fixed him with a chiding look, though in Xu Kuilin’s heart, her gaze remained tender and affectionate.

"If you’ve already taken such thorough steps, why haven’t you removed these glasses yet?"

Xu Kuilin raised a hand, tracing a line beneath his right brow. "Shattered glass damaged the optic nerve. It’s a miracle I didn’t lose sight in this eye. But the medical facilities here aren’t advanced enough—if I want surgery to restore my vision, I’d have to go abroad."

She said, "Then go abroad. It’s not as if Xu Second Young Master lacks the means."

Xu Kuilin looked down at her with a gentle smile. "Funds aren’t lacking, nor is this minor disability. For formal occasions, clear vision is indispensable, but glasses suffice. In private, if you dislike seeing me wear them, I’ll take them off when I visit you. We won’t stand so far apart—I can still see you clearly enough."

Lan Yunzhen laughed. "No need to make exceptions for me. I just think your injury was unjust."

Xu Kuilin shook his head with a wry smile. "It was. Yun Zhen, you only say that because you believe it was."

She had always believed their people’s grievances should never be turned against their own. The sharpened edge of their anger ought to be aimed at the invaders’ hearts. He understood this well, which was why, even with irreversible damage to his eye, he never held a grudge against the protesting students.

Lan Yunzhen listened as he dissected her thoughts but offered no comment, merely smiling gently at him. "Did you seek me out tonight just for idle chatter? You don’t even realize how you’ve cast me into the lion's den."

Xu Kuilin raised a brow, following her gaze.

When Lan Yunzhen stood alone, it was one thing. But now that he had approached, the young men at the long table were eyeing them with interest.

Clearly, few in Shanghai’s social circles were unaware that Xu Second Young Master and the Third Miss of the Nie family had grown up together, childhood playmates, regarded as a perfect match.

By the Waltz dance floor, the young men who had hoped to invite Lan Yunzhen for a dance now bemoaned their lost chance, kicking themselves for hesitating in approaching the beauty.

Xu Kuilin returned his gaze to her. "There’s more I need to tell you."

...

The second-floor corridor of the Nie residence was hung with numerous foreign oil paintings.

Most were verre églomisé Nie Qi, the Sixth Aunt, had acquired at high prices from the Louis Mo Auction House. A few had been hung by Fourth Miss Nie Zhiyi, though they were now relegated to obscure corners by Nie Qi’s collection.

Nie Qi seemed particularly fond of a Baroque-era female painter, as the walls were filled with depictions of flowers, insects, birds, and even a few Chinese blue-and-white porcelain pieces.

Lan Yunzhen let her gaze drift over them, walking slowly and quietly beside Xu Kuilin.

The long corridor was sandwiched between rows of guest rooms, its soundproofing poor enough that the faint strains of piano music and laughter from the dance floor below could still be heard.

"With the permit secured that day, was the Elder’s shipment unloaded safely?" Xu Kuilin turned to her.

Lan Yunzhen’s gaze lingered on a painting for a moment before she turned back with a soft smile. "Thanks to you, the unloading went smoothly. Otherwise, the Elder would surely have blamed me."

Xu Kuilin nodded slowly, pondering. "When he arranged for you to stay at the Astor House, was there more to it?"

Lan Yunzhen chuckled. "Of course not. He needed to meet an old associate but couldn’t show his hand, so he sent me instead. As for staying at the Astor House, it was simply more convenient."

Xu Kuilin shook his head with a bitter smile. "Yun Zhen, why dissemble with me? I would never harm you."

With those words, she could roughly gauge how much he already knew.

When she remained silent, he continued. "I’m not here to reprimand you. But the task he assigned you was far too dangerous—that’s what truly placed you in peril."

Deputy Chief Inspector of the International Concession, serving the foreigners—what a prestigious position.

Yet this very official, one who exercised foreign-backed authority, had suddenly been found dead in a private box at the Dan Gui Theater, his tongue severed and mouth filled with blood. The matter could escalate or fade, but if the foreigners chose to press the issue, whether Nie Yuehai would protect her remained uncertain.

"Regardless, let this be the last time. With Nie Liyu dead, you must tread even more carefully around the old master. Your safety comes first." Xu Kuilin pressed his lips together.

Lan Yunzhen listened quietly until he finished. "I know you’ve dealt with those British circles for years. That the Deputy Chief Inspector’s death didn’t cause an uproar must be due to your mediation. I should thank you. But Kui Lin, you know I never act without thorough consideration."

She stopped before a verre églomisé, lightly tracing the gilded frame. Her fingertips brushed the cold, painted glass, the chill seeping through her skin, spreading from her fingers to her entire body. "From the moment I graduated from McTyeire School and chose to study medicine, the Yun Zhen you knew as a child was no longer the Lan Yunzhen."