Chapter 63 Performer

Chapter 63: Actor

Watching a play, you can't just sit there stiffly. Some people grouped together to buy half a pound of sunflower seeds, each grabbing a handful to munch on.

Meng Wan ordered a pot of cheap tea, half a pound of peanuts and half a pound of sunflower seeds mixed into one plate. Another waiter, seeing that he had ordered something, set up a little table for them.

As the opera tune started on stage, Chang Jinhua and Lu Chunfang, who had been too scared to look around since they came in, were mesmerized.

Meng Wan cracked sunflower seeds casually, glancing at the stage every once in a while. On stage, the scholar Zhang Xie was heading to the capital to take the imperial exam when he was robbed on Mount Wuji. He lost his money and was severely wounded. Crawling to an ancient temple, he was saved by an orphan girl who was lodging there.

Later, they married, and the orphan girl cut her hair to sell it for money to fund Zhang Xie's journey to the capital. After arriving, Zhang Xie lived up to expectations and became the top scholar. A high official took a liking to him and wanted him as a son-in-law, but Zhang Xie refused, thus offending the official. He got assigned to a remote post as a local official.

He figured the orphan girl was dragging him down. When she came looking for him, he not only turned her away but also beat her severely. On his way to his post, passing Mount Wuji, he saw her again and drew his sword, trying to kill her to shut her up. With no way out, the orphan girl had no choice but to jump off the cliff.

The actor on stage performed so sorrowfully that the audience below couldn't help but sigh.

Chang Jinhua and Lu Chunfang cried their eyes out. Lu Chunfang sobbed and cursed, "This Zhang Xie is utterly despicable, worse than a dog or a chicken!"

Meng Wan put down his sunflower seeds and agreed vehemently, "Exactly! A beast! What a disgrace to scholars! He doesn't deserve to be called a student!"

What a great show!

Some agitated audience members threw sunflower seed shells and peanut shells at Zhang Xie on stage, but instead of hitting the performer, they went everywhere in the audience area.

It was already sweltering in the theater. Meng Wan plucked two peanut shells off his head, growing annoyed. Were they blind? He was sitting by the edge, yet they still hit him! Now he'd have to wash his hair again when he got home!

Just as he was silently cursing, a "clang"—a silver ingot landed on his table. Not only was he startled, but Chang Jinhua also saw it. "Wan Geer? This... what's going on?"

Meng Wan turned around to look up at the balcony. In one of the private rooms, a richly dressed young gentleman was eyeing him with raised brows.

Meng Wan frowned and turned back around, saying to Chang Jinhua, "It's nothing. Probably someone threw it by mistake. Just ignore it."

Next time, he should just spend more money on a private box. Would save a ton of hassle.

When the play ended, Meng Wan couldn't sit still. As he joined the audience in tossing copper coins as tips to the performers, he also threw the silver ingot from his hand onto the stage. Then he called to the two who were reluctant to leave, "Next time my husband gets his monthly day off, we'll all come together again."

In the city, small vendors and common folk loved to visit the entertainment complex during their leisure time, watching plays or listening to storytelling—ancient versions of entertainment venues. This large complex was way more legit than the smaller ones, with their own hired security that kept out riffraff and troublemakers, making it suitable for family outings.

After leaving the Pingqiao Theater, Meng Wan took Chang Jinhua by the arm. "Mother, if you liked it, we'll come again next time. Just six coins to get in, plus a pot of cheap tea, and you can watch for half the day."

Chang Jinhua's eyes showed recollection. "The last time I saw a play was when I was a child. Landlord Fang from the Fang family in the town hired the whole town to watch a play. The troupe set up a stage in Springwater Town and performed for eight whole days. I never missed a single show—I'd bring my little stool every day."

Meng Wan said, "Now it's easier. After we close at noon, we can just head over, right?"

Chang Jinhua said with a mock glare, "Once or twice a month is enough. Who can come every day? Today's play was quite good."

On the topic of the play, Lu Chunfang chimed in, "Luckily the orphan girl didn't die from that cliff jump and was adopted by the official."

Chang Jinhua said, "And Zhang Xie later repented, and they were on equal footing status-wise."

Lu Chunfang added, "Yes, yes! The official even made them get remarried—truly a match made in heaven."

Meng Wan listened for a while, then had to remind them, "What if she had died from the fall?"

"And how come Zhang Xie never said the orphan girl wasn't good enough for him before he passed the exam?"

"Just because he repented later, does that mean a high-ranking official can get away with trying to kill his wife just because he repented?"

"If she hadn't been adopted by the official, you really think he wouldn't try to kill her again if she reappeared alive?"

Chang Jinhua and Lu Chunfang were left speechless. Lu Chunfang mumbled, "But that's how it was performed on stage."

Meng Wan countered, "Just because it's on stage doesn't make it true. Such faithless scholars are never sincere."

Lu Chunfang found the words cutting and walked ahead with her head down.

Chang Jinhua nudged Meng Wan and glared at him. "Why you gotta say all that pointless stuff?"

Meng Wan sighed helplessly. "Fine, my bad for running my mouth, okay? Mother, I noticed there's even more food in this entertainment complex than outside. There's a roast chicken stall up ahead. Let's buy one to take home and have it with some rice porridge for dinner."

Chang Jinhua went after Lu Chunfang. "Go ahead and buy it yourself."

Meng Wan watched their retreating figures and smiled wryly. The world was so harsh—if they remained ignorant women, they'd be devoured without a trace. Harsh words were still better than real swords and spears.

The roast chicken stall was tucked away behind, near the side entrance of the Pingqiao Theater. For it to be open in the entertainment complex and doing such good business, it must have some family recipe. The closer he got, the stronger the aroma from the oven.

Meng Wan lined up behind others and asked the busy couple, "Boss, how much for your roast chicken?"

The wife, too busy to look up, yelled, "Eighty-five coins each."

That was reasonable.

When it was Meng Wan's turn, he took out a small string of copper coins from his money pouch, removed fifteen of them, and handed the rest to the woman taking money. "Give me one, wrapped."

"Coming right up!"

The chicken was wrapped in oil paper and tied with thin hemp string, easy to carry with one hand.

Meng Wan picked up the wrapped chicken and was about to head to the entrance to find Chang Jinhua when he heard shouting from the theater's side entrance.

"The Troupe Head raised you big, and this is how you repay him? By bringing trouble to the troupe?"

"And you still dare to act tough?"

"Even Fourth Master Zhu is not someone you can offend! And you dared to compete with him over a woman? You've got a death wish!"

The sounds of fists hitting flesh came one after another, loud enough for everyone outside the chicken stall to hear.

People whispered among themselves. The chicken-selling couple seemed unperturbed, as if this were routine. "Brother, your chicken."

"Stop chatting and take it," the male boss said helplessly.

His wife added, "These troupes travel all over, none of them are locals from Changping. There's all sorts of dirty business among them. We ordinary folk can watch the spectacle, but don't get involved."

Even Changbei Entertainment Complex was considered decent compared to the smaller ones, where some theaters staged erotic plays to attract customers, almost like brothels on wheels.

Though many people watched, they all looked down on the performers on stage.

These performers were bought young by the troupe head. They had to practice basic skills daily and handle various chores around the troupe. Any mistake led to beatings from the troupe head or the leading actors.

When they grew up and could perform, they might be selected by wealthy patrons to provide companionship. If they were too clumsy to act, the troupe wouldn't keep them idle—they'd be sold again to a slave dealer.

Even the famous performers had a drifting life. In the twisted environment of the troupe, when a star became the next troupe master, they'd perpetuate the same cycle: buying people, training them, and sending them to rich men's beds.

Their lives were spent selling both art and bodies, with no dignity to speak of. Their reputation was only slightly better than prostitutes. They were just playthings for the rich, that's why they're called lowlifes.

Meng Wan stopped, turning to glance at the side entrance of Pingqiao Theater. In the shadows, three or four burly guys were beating a curled-up figure on the ground with heavy fists.

The person on the ground had blood all over his face and head, beaten so badly that they didn't even let out a groan—whether unconscious or dead, it was unclear.

Meng Wan hissed, a bit creeped out.

Someone kindly advised him, "Buddy, don't look. Watch out, you might get noticed. You'd better get home quick."

Meng Wan snapped out of it and thanked the person, "I'm heading off now. Thanks for the warning, auntie."

He quickly left Pingqiao Goulan, where Chang Jinhua and Lu Chunfang were waiting for him at the entrance of the theater.

Seeing him come out, the worry on Chang Jinhua's face faded, and she asked urgently, "What took you so long? With so many people here, you didn't run into any kidnappers, did you?"

Just those few minutes of delay made her regret leaving him behind alone. Going back in to look for him risked missing him again, so she could only wait at the entrance.

Poor Lu Chunfang, but after all, she was an outsider. If a kidnapper had snatched Meng Wan, how would she explain it to Da Lang?

Meng Wan lifted the oil-paper package in his hand to show her, "There was a long line for the roast chicken, so I had to wait a while to buy it. I heard from others that this theater has lasted so many years in Changping because it has some backing—no beggars or thugs are allowed inside. If they're caught, they'll get beaten to death by the bouncers!"

Chang Jinhua's mouth fell open, "That crazy?"

"Exactly. That's why I brought you here—at least it's safer. The other day, I ran into Aunt Zhou, and she told me the same thing—that the locals all come to Changping Theater to watch shows and listen to storytelling."

"Now that you mention it, I think she did say something about that."

They walked all the way home. Chang Jinhua kneaded the dough, Lu Chunfang soaked the beans, and Meng Wan continued working on his unfinished masterpiece.

The stone table had already been made and delivered, placed in the yard by Song Tingzhou. In the evening, the family cooked a pot of rice porridge, rinsed it twice with well water to cool it down, mixed a plate of cucumber salad, shredded the roast chicken into pieces on a plate, and the four of them each took a small stool to eat in the yard.

After dinner, the sun had completely set, and the mosquitoes in the yard were starting to get worse. Meng Wan accompanied Song Tingzhou to feed the horse for a while, but couldn't stand it anymore and was about to dart back inside.

"When you come in later, burn some mugwort under the window to keep them away. The mosquitoes are biting me to death at night."

Chang Jinhua heard Meng Wan's complaint from inside, "If you're so afraid of bites, why didn't you tell me sooner? We still have some coarse linen at home. I'll cut it and make a mosquito net for you."

Closing the window made it hot, but opening it invited mosquitoes—Meng Wan was already sick of it. Hearing this, he quickly went over to Chang Jinhua, "Hey Mom, let's make it now. I'll get the scissors for you."

A mosquito net was simple. Chang Jinhua cut a few pieces of coarse linen, sewed them together with fine stitches, with Lu Chunfang helping out. Once sewn, they tied it with strings, and Song Tingzhou hung it from the beam, instantly creating a semi-private space.

The two of them enjoyed some intimacy inside at night, adding a special charm.

Song Tingzhou lay over Meng Wan, breathing steadily. Both of them were sticky with sweat. Meng Wan's eyes were half-closed, and he rasped, "Zhou Lang, hurry and fetch some water. I'm burning up."

Song Tingzhou nibbled at the corner of his mouth, not making any move to get off, "No rush…"

Meng Wan got angry, "Are you kidding? Again? Are you going or not?"

"Heh." Song Tingzhou chuckled.

"Going."

He threw on an outer robe, rolled off the kang, brought in a bucket of warm water from the kitchen, and poured it into the tub.

Seeing Meng Wan naked and leaning against the bedding, watching him, his heart stirred, and desire flared in his eyes.

They fooled around until the water in the tub was no longer warm. Fortunately, it was summer—not warm, but not cold either.

Only after bathing did Meng Wan feel alive again, his body dry and light.

Song Tingzhou also washed up, went outside to empty the water, while Meng Wan changed the sheets.

The night watchman on the street struck the gong three times, but Song Tingzhou had not returned yet.

Afraid of disturbing Chang Jinhua, Meng Wan didn't dare call out, so he had to put on his clothes and go out to look for him, his legs trembling.

No one in the yard? Meng Wan's heart skipped a beat. When he reached the gate, he found it half-open. As soon as he opened it, he saw Song Tingzhou standing at the entrance. Seeing him, Song Tingzhou softly "shushed" him and carefully pulled him into his arms, leading him into the yard.

They peered through the crack in the gate. At the far end of the alley was a cart, which seemed to hold a corpse covered with linen, with bloodstains on the exposed skin. A furtive figure was dragging the bundle—body and all—toward the public well they usually used, and throwing it in.

Meng Wan stared wide-eyed at Song Tingzhou.

Murder and body disposal!

And we still have to use that well!

"Report to the authorities?" he whispered breathlessly.

Song Tingzhou shook his head, pointing at the exposed foot. "Alive," he whispered.

What!

Meng Wan quickly looked out again. The man was clever enough to be afraid that the splash would attract attention, so he carried the barely-alive person down into the well on his back, slowly submerging him, then climbed back up.

Song Tingzhou gently closed the gate. Hearing the cart wheels rapidly pass by their door, he waited a few moments before opening it again.

He looked at Meng Wan, and Meng Wan nodded at him.

If they hadn't seen it, so be it. But a living human life—how could they simply ignore it? After all, they'd been through life-and-death struggles too.

Song Tingzhou had been watching for so long—he must have been thinking the same thing.

Song Tingzhou first looked left and right to make sure no one else was watching, then dashed to the well. Meng Wan followed closely, eyes fixed on the empty street. If anyone appeared, they would leave quickly.

Fortunately, the guy was probably just acting on pure nerve—the rapid sound of the cart wheels fading away showed his fear. If so, it probably wasn't some deep family secret; otherwise, he wouldn't have dumped it here. Those wealthy, influential families surely had more discreet methods.