The Double

Chapter 88: Watching the Opera

Jin Mantang was a recently established troupe that had taken over Xiangsi Troupe's position, becoming quite popular in Yanjing City.

It seemed every newly popular troupe was eager to gain Duke Su's approval, always performing a show for him first. If Ji Heng deemed the performance satisfactory, the troupe was guaranteed success. Just like with the former Xiangsi Troupe, Ji Heng appeared to hold the power of life and death over Yanjing's opera troupes - he could make one famous, but could also make one disappear just as quickly.

Though Jiang Li found this rather unbelievable - a dignified Duke, descendant of the Golden Crow General, acting like some kind of opera troupe manager. Yet sometimes she thought that for someone like Ji Heng, having connections to the opera world was understandable.

He was extraordinarily beautiful, more dazzling than any performer on stage, born to shine before crowds. Yet he wasn't suited for performing himself, for he lived too clearly and was too detached to immerse himself in worldly dramas. Such a favored son of heaven was only fit to stand below the stage, watching others' artificial joys and sorrows, not even deigning to shed a tear.

He watched it all as a joke, just like the mocking smile that often played on his lips.

The entire second floor seemed to have been reserved by Ji Heng, with no one else present. Jiang Li could walk out from the tea room and stand by the second-floor railing, looking down at the stage below.

She could see the performers clearly while being elevated above the first-floor audience. Jiang Li guessed this was Ji Heng's preferred vantage point - looking down from above. Admittedly, watching from here provided more detachment than viewing from below. Being too close to the performers made one prone to getting absorbed in the drama, but being both close and elevated allowed one to clearly recognize it as just a performance. No matter how brilliant the show, maintaining this distance prevented being swept away by its emotions.

Jin Mantang's lead actress was called Little Peach Red, a young woman whose features were obscured by heavy makeup. But judging by her graceful figure and soft singing voice, she must be quite remarkable. No wonder the audience below was so enthusiastic, applauding and cheering enthusiastically.

This particular opera was called "The Nine Child Case."

"The Nine Child Case" told a famous story about a woman from the previous dynasty. The young woman, named Jiu'er, married a scholar in the countryside, and they lived in perfect harmony as a loving couple. Later, the scholar went to the capital for imperial examinations, achieved the top score to become the zhuangyuan, then became a high official. A wealthy young lady took a liking to him, and her father wanted him as a son-in-law. The scholar concealed that he already had a wife and child back home and married the wealthy young lady.

Jiu'er and her young child back in the countryside knew nothing about her husband becoming someone else's. Then one day, the scholar stopped sending letters home. To make matters worse, Jiu'er's son fell seriously ill. Being too poor to afford treatment, Jiu'er had no choice but to take her child to the capital to find her husband. After enduring countless hardships and suffering many humiliations, she finally reached the capital. But on the city streets, she saw her husband being intimate with another woman.The scholar refused to acknowledge Jiu'er and even had her beaten and driven away. Only then did Jiu'er realize he already had a wife and children, having long cast aside his family back home. Jiu'er's son, unable to receive money for medical treatment in the capital and exhausted from the arduous journey, soon fell ill and died.

Having lost both her husband and son, Jiu'er was consumed by anguish and resentment. She drowned herself in the river before the scholar's residence, and after death, transformed into a blue bird that wept mournfully daily at his gate, drawing crowds of onlookers. The incident reached the emperor, who ordered an investigation. Upon learning of the scholar's heartless betrayal, the emperor stripped him of his official rank and punished him severely, while the wealthy young lady divorced him. The scholar ended up with nothing and froze to death before the harsh winter passed.

This story was originally fabricated by a storyteller from a previous dynasty, but its compelling narrative and Jiu'er's pitiable fate resonated deeply with audiences. It was later adapted into a renowned opera by theatrical troupes. Women adored such poignant, sorrowful tales, often weeping along with Jiu'er's plight, while men sighed in reflection—though polygamy was commonplace, the saying "one should not abandon the wife who shared hard times" held weight, and such immoral behavior inevitably invited divine retribution.

When Jiang Li first heard this story as a young girl in Tongxiang, she was too young to shed tears, feeling only indignant at the injustice Jiu'er suffered. She told Xue Zhao that if she were in Jiu'er's place and discovered her husband was such a heartless beast, she would never take her own life at his doorstep but would instead seize a blade and perish together with him. Xue Zhao replied at the time, "When that day comes, you would surely find it hard to let go."

She scoffed at this—what was there to hold onto? He was nothing but a thankless wretch worse than an animal. She wondered if the storyteller had made an error, for how could Jiu'er in the tale still cling to past affections?

Back then, she couldn't comprehend it, never imagining that years later, this story would replay like a mirrored version in her own life. She became another Jiu'er. Her world turned upside down, filled with lies, betrayal, slander, and pain in her final days.

Yet one thing remained unchanged from beginning to end: if asked again now, she could still declare without hesitation that there was nothing she couldn't bear to part with.

When someone chooses betrayal, they sever all past bonds with a single stroke. To cherish what others disregard is not kindness—it is self-degradation.

She would never allow others to look down on her.

On stage, Little Peach Red, portraying Jiu'er, finally found her husband, only for him to evade recognition. The young male lead sang: "It's not that I refuse to acknowledge you, but fear one misstep brings calamity upon us."

Little Jiu'er retorted: "What talk of missteps and calamity? Clearly, you've embraced the new and forgotten the old.

Think back to when you studied in Junzhou—I tended your parents with filial piety in the hall.

In the examination year, I saw you off to the capital; at parting, I urged you with endless words.

I begged you to return early, success or not, remembering your aging parents and yearning children.

Who could guess you'd vanish for three years without word, while drought in Huguang starved your parents to death?

After their passing, I had no means to bury them, so I brought your children to seek you.

You cast aside all marital devotion and reject your own flesh and blood.""Slapping my chest and wondering, could it be that your heart is forged of iron?"

The performer on stage sang with tears streaming down, and Jiang Li felt as if her own heart were being twisted. The lyrics made it impossible for her not to think of herself. Just like how Jiu'er could not understand—she had done nothing wrong, had done everything right, so why did her husband treat her so coldly? Jiang Li also wanted to ask Shen Yurong: Is glory and wealth truly so enticing that one would abandon all humanity and forsake everything for it?

Moreover, there was also her child.

Her child, who never had the chance to come into this world, was buried in that filthy conspiracy. When Shen Yurong sacrificed their child, did he hesitate even for a moment? Did he know that the child shared his blood?

Jiang Li dared not dwell on it further.

On the other side, Lu Ji, who had also been watching the play, suddenly remarked, "Look, Second Miss Jiang is watching very intently."

All three turned their gaze toward Jiang Li.

Jiang Li sat sideways to them, her eyes lowered, yet unwaveringly fixed on the performer below. It was clear she was engrossed. Upon closer inspection, one could see her tightly gripping the carved railing on the second floor, her knuckles turning white from the force.

She was completely lost in the play.

"What's so strange about that?" Kong Liu said dismissively. "Second Miss Jiang abhors evil and distinguishes clearly between right and wrong. This play is utterly suffocating—anyone listening would feel angry. It's only natural for Second Miss Jiang to be moved and absorbed in it."

"It's normal to be emotionally stirred by this play," Lu Ji said with a smile. "But this is Second Miss Jiang we're talking about."

What kind of person was Second Miss Jiang? She always seemed to be smiling, and even when she wasn't, she remained as gentle and calm as a flowing stream, almost never seen in a state of great anger or agitation. Such a temperament might seem indifferent in some, but those with a discerning eye could tell that Second Miss Jiang simply did not bother with trivialities.

In other words, most things, in her eyes, were unimportant. And unimportant matters were not worth dwelling on. This was a mindset born from experiencing life's great upheavals, one more commonly found in the elderly who had weathered many storms.

Even though Second Miss Jiang had once been accused of "killing her mother and brother" and had been sent to a nunnery to live alone for eight years, it was unlikely that she had reached such a state of serene maturity—the kind that comes only after enduring great trials.

In short, Jiang Li did not dwell on minor matters. How could someone who did not even care about the potential destruction of her lifelong reputation be so deeply moved by a mere play?

Others might, but Second Miss Jiang certainly would not. If she reacted unusually to this play, it could only mean that the play had struck a chord with her—that there were overlapping elements between the play and her own past experiences.

This was empathy.

Ji Heng's fingers brushed over the pure white fan handle as he suddenly stood up. His gaze toward Jiang Li held a hint of amusement as he leisurely approached her.

"He..." Kong Liu started to speak but was pulled back by Lu Ji, who made a "shush" gesture and said, "Just watch the play."

Xiao Jiu'er continued to sing:

"My husband went to the capital to become the Imperial Son-in-Law,

While I drifted through the palace courtyard, holding my pipa.

Hateful how he, once attaining wealth and honor,

Forgot gratitude and loyalty—he... he abandoned his wedded wife.

I am his wedded wife, who once accompanied him to the imperial exams.

He vowed to return to his hometown, whether he passed or not.

But then famine struck Huguang,

And the poor starved, their bellies empty.""My in-laws starved to death in their thatched hall, with no silver to bury my parents-in-law.

I cut two locks of my black hair, traded them on the street for two straw mats.

All the neighbors said my husband had topped the imperial exams.

I brought our children to visit him, begging door to door until Bianliang.

I rushed through the gates of Muchi Palace, but he kicked me—

I fell right there by the palace gates..."

"A wife from humble beginnings..." Jiang Li thought distractedly. That was such a lingering form of address, just like Shen Yurong's tenderness toward her in the past. She had experienced many such mid-autumn nights, each filled with joy and contentment. Who could have predicted there would come a day when recalling those memories would feel like blades piercing her abdomen, each cut reaching bone, driving her to the brink of unbearable pain?

She could hardly distinguish whether this was merely a performance of the "Nine Child Case" opera or her actual reality. She seemed to have become Nine Child, yet felt even more tragic than the character.

Just then, a silk handkerchief was suddenly offered beside her.

Pure white without any embroidery, the smooth silk shimmered with a subtle, flowing luster under the lantern light—clearly lightweight and delicate.

"Wipe your tears." Ji Heng's voice remained composed as he said, "Second Miss's tear-streaked appearance is rather unflattering."

Jiang Li didn't even register his less-than-complimentary words, hurriedly reaching up to touch her cheeks. She felt the dampness and realized she had been crying without even noticing.

She had actually cried.

Instinctively, Jiang Li reached for Ji Heng's handkerchief, but the next moment she came to her senses and smiled, saying, "Thank you, Duke, but I have my own." She pulled a pale green handkerchief from her sleeve—though not as luxurious as Ji Heng's, it was simple and elegant—and wiped away her tears herself.

Her movements were as natural as brushing off dust.

Yet unbeknownst to her, her instinctively raised smile paired with the teardrops at the corners of her eyes created an indescribably peculiar expression. Ji Heng also paused briefly, neither approving nor disapproving, as he withdrew his handkerchief and said to Jiang Li, "I never thought Second Miss Jiang, such an iron-hearted woman, could also cry." He spoke leisurely, "I'm starting to wonder if Second Miss Jiang is an opera enthusiast."

"I watch when the performance is brilliant, and don't when it's not." Jiang Li also smiled. "They say Jin Mantang is Yanjing City's most renowned troupe, and today I've witnessed it. That performer called Little Peach Red's singing can easily move people."

"What moves people isn't Little Peach Red's singing, but the opera itself." Ji Heng said: "Second Miss Jiang just became immersed in the performance."

"Me?" Jiang Li glanced at him in surprise, smiling as she said, "I'm not part of the opera, how could I become immersed? You jest, Duke."

"Second Miss's acting skills are quite good, but your lying skills are rather lacking." Ji Heng sighed with a smile: "Your deception is truly clumsy."

Jiang Li's brows slightly furrowed as she prepared to respond, when unexpectedly Ji Heng suddenly lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

This posture was already extremely presumptuous. Nearby, Kong Liu nearly cried out in shock but was quickly silenced by Lu Ji covering his mouth.

In her astonishment, Jiang Li momentarily couldn't tell whether she felt more humiliation or surprise, and could only stare fixedly at Ji Heng.Time and again, she had seen Ji Heng this close, yet no matter how many times she gazed upon him, each encounter still struck her with the same breathtaking awe as the first. His pale red robe hung loosely, but the peonies embroidered at the collar were exquisite and neat, making him appear all the more radiant and profound amid the mournful opera singing. He was like a red lotus blooming in the bleakness of winter, so dazzling it hurt the eyes. Or like catching sight of a bright, flawless moon in the reflection of an abyss, beautiful enough to send chills down one’s spine.

His eyes were a light, translucent amber, but the shape of them was naturally sharp and defined, as though naturally lined, alluring like a painting. The bridge of his nose was impossibly handsome, his lips thin and red—even when curled into a heartless smirk, they tempted one to throw caution to the wind and seek a kiss.

And as he leaned forward slowly, a smile playing on his lips, the more intimate his approach, the colder his demeanor became. His captivating eyes made one hold their breath, yet his voice was low and husky as he murmured, "Eyes are the seedlings of affection. Your eyes betray your heart."

Jiang Li said, "I do not."

"There is someone in your heart," he said.

Jiang Li: "There is not."

"This person resides in your heart. You do not love them, but you hate them deeply," he said with a light laugh.

Jiang Li froze. The words "I do not" stuck in her throat, impossible to utter.

This young man was like a demon who could read minds—nothing in the world could hide from his gaze. Jiang Li couldn’t help but wonder if he could see through every lie and comprehend every betrayal. For though his enchanting eyes could captivate all, they could never captivate himself.

He lived with too much clarity, and that destined him to little joy.

In that moment, Jiang Li felt an inexplicable sense of relief. In her previous encounters with Duke Su, Ji Heng, she had never once held the upper hand. Though she hadn’t been at a disadvantage either, she knew well the oppressive pressure he exuded made her deeply uncomfortable. But now she understood: someone like Duke Su Ji Heng could indeed see everything clearly. Yet those who lived with too much clarity and understanding often led arduous lives.

Rare is the blessing of ignorance.

It was as if, in this one matter, Ji Heng was fated never to surpass her. Jiang Li suddenly curved her eyes into a smile, her tense body relaxing in that instant. She looked at Ji Heng and said lightly, "Whatever you say, Duke."

Surprised by Jiang Li’s sudden acquiescence and her relaxed tone, a flicker of astonishment passed through Ji Heng’s eyes.

Jiang Li gently pulled her hand free. Ji Heng released his fingers from beneath her chin and picked up his folding fan again, reassuming his polite and proper demeanor—donning his sheep’s clothing once more.

"You love watching operas so much, Duke. Aren’t you afraid that one day you might become part of the play and become a laughingstock yourself?"

Ji Heng’s eyes darkened slightly, as if taken aback that Jiang Li had not only refused to retreat but had spoken such provocative words.

"Does Second Miss Jiang believe I am the kind to lose myself in a play?" He fanned himself leisurely and said, "I am not as benevolent as you, Second Miss."

Meaning, unlike Jiang Li, he was not so kind as to shed tears over the joys and sorrows of irrelevant people.

"A play is just a play—it should never be taken as truth," he uttered these cruel words with an almost lingering tenderness."Those who are in the play don't realize they're in it," Jiang Li said softly. "Just as I encountered a story here that moved me, perhaps one day you'll encounter yours too."

Her words were gentle, but her gaze at Ji Heng carried a hint of stubbornness. This finally made her look like a "young girl," though her manner of speaking remained as subtle and meaningful as ever.

"Then let's destroy this play," Ji Heng smiled amiably. "I'm no actor."

Such straightforward brutality was truly Ji Heng's style! Jiang Li felt somewhat frustrated. At his core, Ji Heng was an autocrat. He never needed to consider others' thoughts nor cared about their opinions. In his heart, there was already a scale—he only needed to add weights to it.

No one could become his counterweight, so no one was destined to become his weakness. He was destined never to be threatened by anyone. Having no vulnerabilities was why everyone feared him.

Jiang Li said coldly, "Then I wish the Duke may always remain a spectator as he is today!" She didn't understand what had gotten into her, coming here to exchange veiled words with Ji Heng. With someone like him, it was best to avoid contact and keep as much distance as possible.

Yet this man could easily provoke the pride deep within her bones, making her speak more than intended without realizing it. He truly was a master at playing with people's hearts!

But in this world, it wasn't uncommon for those who tame eagles to get pecked in the eye.

Jiang Li said, "What is intense will inevitably wither; what is subtle often endures." She snorted lightly in her heart and turned to walk toward Kong Liu.

Ji Heng stood stunned for a moment, then nearly laughed aloud after understanding her meaning.

Jiang Li was warning him—the more seemingly insignificant things might become the most profound in the end. The more excessive his actions, the more likely he would face retribution someday.

Kong Liu had been whispering with Lu Ji about how Ji Heng and Jiang Li seemed about to argue when suddenly he saw Jiang Li approaching. He forced a somewhat amiable smile and said to her, "Why has Second Miss Jiang come over? Not continuing to watch?"

"Nothing worth watching," Jiang Li replied with a gentle, humble smile that showed no trace of her recent confrontation with Ji Heng. "I've seen this story many times, and it's too tragic. Today is the Mid-Autumn Festival—I don't want to dwell on sorrows."

Kong Liu suddenly understood and nodded repeatedly. "Right, yes, of course."

Ji Heng stood with crossed arms by the carved railing, watching with amusement as Jiang Li effortlessly handled Kong Liu's small talk. She was a girl who could change masks, and quite skillfully at that.

His gaze swept over Little Peach Red, who was still singing "yiyaya" on the stage, and he wondered: Who was it that she loved and hated?

It probably wasn't Zhou Yanbang.

...

Dealing with straightforward people like Kong Liu was much easier than dealing with Ji Heng. Even handling the smiling, goateed man who kept trying to extract information from her was simpler than dealing with Ji Heng.

When interacting with Ji Heng, he never hesitated to show the side of himself completely different from his charming appearance—such as his cruelty, such as his cold indifference.Kong Liu even went so far as to ask Jiang Li if she would consider joining his Light Cavalry as an archer or cavalry soldier. Her archery and equestrian skills were exceptional, rivaling even those of men. Moreover, since she had achieved this level without prior training, she would undoubtedly become even more outstanding with military drills. Although there were no women in their cavalry unit, she could set a precedent.

Jiang Li was quite exasperated.

Kong Liu was far too audacious—he seemed to have forgotten that Jiang Li was Jiang Yuanbai’s daughter, the current Grand Secretary’s cherished young lady. Who would give up being a noble young lady to become a cavalry soldier? Even if Jiang Li were willing, Jiang Yuanbai would never agree. He would probably submit a memorial straight to the emperor, accusing Kong Liu of enticing the Grand Secretary’s daughter.

Jiang Li politely declined.

Kong Liu was deeply disappointed.

Lu Ji had been smilingly engaging Jiang Li in conversation, occasionally asking trivial matters about the Jiang residence. Though his questions seemed innocuous, Jiang Li keenly sensed he was trying to extract information from her. She didn't know Lu Ji nor his intentions. Even if he was Ji Heng's subordinate, Jiang Li wouldn't let her guard down—after all, Ji Heng was no virtuous man himself. What if this was a scheme to undermine the Jiang family? She currently relied on the Jiang family's influence; if the house fell, as a Jiang daughter, she would have few paths left.

Jiang Li answered Lu Ji's inquiries with a smile, deftly sidestepping all crucial matters. After several such exchanges, Lu Ji realized she had caught on and ceased his questioning, merely chuckling as he resumed bickering with Kong Liu.

Ji Heng did nothing but lean against the carved railing, seemingly reading about the "Nine Child Case" with such indifference that one might doubt he was actually paying attention.

It was puzzling whether this was just another act of his.

After what felt like the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Jiang Li rose and said, "Gentlemen, I must return now. If I'm not found soon, my second uncle and the others will worry. It's getting late..."

"Then let me escort you back!" Kong Liu declared with a wave of his hand.

"Wait." Lu Ji stopped him, saying, "Though we serve the Duke, personally escorting Second Miss Jiang might cause misunderstandings despite our explanations. While it matters little to us, as a young lady, it's better to avoid troubling her. Let's return her to her brother's side instead—he'll be easier to account to."

Jiang Li understood: fooling Jiang Jingrui was simpler than dealing with Lu Shi and the others.

Ji Heng called, "Wen Ji."

Wen Ji had been surrounded by Bai Xue and Tong'er, who were staring at him as if he were a rare spectacle—after all, the Jiang residence had no guards as handsome as him. Tong'er had been comparing Wen Ji's features with Jiang Jingrui's, from eyebrows to lips, without reaching any conclusion. Instead, she made Wen Ji blush crimson with embarrassment.

Hearing Ji Heng's summons, Wen Ji finally escaped the two girls and promptly responded, "Yes."

"Escort Second Miss Jiang back," Ji Heng ordered.

Wen Ji nodded. Jiang Li bowed to Ji Heng. "Thank you for your hospitality, Duke."

"You're welcome," Ji Heng replied with a light laugh. "Until we meet again."

Jiang Li: "..."

She truly hoped that "meeting again" would be a century—no, a millennium—later.

Finally emerging from the Gazing Immortal Pavilion, Jiang Li breathed a soft sigh of relief. Looking back, she saw the pavilion standing amid the bustling streets of Yanjing City, its lanterns flickering like an unreal, beautiful dream.

She suddenly realized that this Mid-Autumn Festival, which she had expected to spend reminiscing with heavy heart, had been thoroughly disrupted by Ji Heng.

Though she had initially intended to reflect, her confrontations and arguments with Ji Heng had unexpectedly left no room for bitterness and pain to overwhelm her. Now, she felt entirely unburdened.

A fortunate coincidence, perhaps.

"Let's go," she said.

Once they found Jiang Jingrui, Wen Ji vanished into the crowd. The moment Jiang Jingrui spotted her, he exclaimed, "Where have you been? I've been searching everywhere for you! I was about to tell Mother to help find you!""I got pushed to a remote spot by the crowd and just managed to make my way back." Jiang Li lied without batting an eye. "Everything's fine now."

"Really?" Jiang Jingrui looked at her skeptically. "Why did it take so long? Your makeup is a bit smudged..."

"The heat did it—sweat messed it up." Jiang Li said, "Let's go find Aunt now. It's about time we should head back."

Jiang Jingrui looked somewhat dejected. He hadn't managed to get the White Rabbit Lantern yet, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

Jiang Li sighed inwardly. No wonder Lu Ji had said that—Jiang Jingrui really was easy to fool.

Well, he touched her chin—that practically counts as consummating the marriage, doesn't it? (/ω╲)

(End of Chapter)