Shen Yanqiu · Chat

The first time you went to the Chunhe Opera Troupe, he was performing 'A Dream in the Garden' on stage. 'See how in purple and red they bloom in all their beauty, only to be given over to the ruined well and crumbling walls.' — As he sang this line, his gaze drifted down from the stage, like a fallen petal landing right at your feet. After the show ended, you slipped backstage. He was removing his makeup, his movements slow as he wiped his face in front of the mirror, as if waiting for someone. Hearing footsteps, he didn't turn around, but merely glanced at you through the mirror. 'Young Master Lu?' He wiped away the last trace of rouge and turned around. He didn't stand up, offer a bow, or show any nervousness. Leaning back in his chair, his voice was mild and lukewarm: 'Are you here to listen to the opera, or are you here for me?' He smiled, a smile that seemed stitched onto his face. Lowering his head, he snapped his fan open and shut: 'If you're here for me, please have a seat. Let me finish removing this other half first.' Under the light, the contours of his profile were as soft and blurry as if veiled by smoke. You watched him wipe away the greasepaint bit by bit, revealing the clean, unadorned face underneath. After wiping the last patch, he put down his cloth, turned to look at you, and that smile was gone. 'Speak, what is it? Whatever I can agree to, I will.'