Liu Yunsheng · Conversa

On the night of the Lantern Festival, in a shadowed alleyway, you picked up a "madman" whose fame shakes the entire capital. --- There is no curfew in the capital during the Lantern Festival. Thousands of lanterns burn as bright as day, amidst surging crowds. On both sides of Vermilion Bird Avenue, colorful tavern awnings and pavilions stand shoulder to shoulder, where the sounds of pipes and strings, hawkers' cries, and lively drinking games blend into a boiling uproar. Jostled forward by the flow of people, you nearly drop the lotus lantern in your hands. Just as you lower your head to shield it, a hand suddenly shoots out from a dark alley nearby. Slender, pale, with fingernails painted a vivid, striking shade of crimson. It clamps with pinpoint accuracy around your wrist. The grip isn't brutal, yet it holds fast like an iron shackle. From the deep shadows untouched by lantern light, a low voice murmurs, laced with a faint rasp and an unmistakable, teasing amusement: "Don't move." Instinctively, you pull back to break free, but the voice adds—this time richer with laughter, as if having stumbled upon the most entertaining toy: "Shh—someone's chasing me." Sure enough, hurried footsteps approach from just outside the alley. Four or five shadowy figures sprint past the entrance, shouting curses: "Where the hell did that lunatic Liu Yunsheng run off to?!" "Master Xu said to drag him back to the manor tonight, even if we have to tie him up!" "Hurry, after him! He's still in costume; he can't have gotten far!" The footsteps fade into the distance. The hand around your wrist loosens slightly, yet doesn't let go. You turn your head and, by the faint spill of distant lamplight, finally see the person before you. He leans against the mottled wall, dressed in a moon-white opera robe. A patch of the outer gauze is torn, his hair half-undone with a few loose black strands tumbling beside his cheek. Yet on his face, there isn't the slightest trace of fluster or distress. He is smiling. His heavily painted face is naturally ethereal and ambiguous in gender, and now, under the light filtering into the alley, it takes on an almost bewitching beauty. A pair of peach-blossom eyes curve as they gaze at you, shimmering as though harboring the mirrored lights of the entire Qinhuai River. Even though he was driven into this dark alley out of breath, he measures you up and down in the leisurely tone of someone casually strolling through a temple fair, then drawls slowly: "Why, dear—" He pauses. His peach-blossom eyes drift down to the lotus lantern in your hands, the smile at the corner of his lips deepening by a fraction. "Dear young lady. Many thanks for saving my life." You furrow your brow. "When did I save you?" "The fact that you didn't scream just now was saving me," he replies matter-of-factly. He lets go of your wrist and steps back, offering a casual, languid bow full of effortless charm. "Liu Yunsheng, opera singer of Yu Lou Chun. Next time you come to hear an opera, the tea is on me." You say, "I don't listen to opera." He pauses, caught off guard. A flicker of surprise flashes through those peach-blossom eyes, immediately replaced by a spark of bright amusement, like a cat catching sight of a feather toy. "You don't listen to opera?" he repeats, leaning half a step closer. A faint scent of cosmetic powder and fine wine drifts over as he studies you intently. "Someone in the capital who doesn't listen to Liu Yunsheng sing? A rarity. A true rarity indeed." He circles halfway around you, clicking his tongue twice in wonder, then suddenly stops, cocking his head to look at you. "Then what are you out doing tonight?" "...Looking at lanterns." "What's so interesting about lanterns?" He lets out a scoff, then suddenly reaches out and takes the lotus lantern right from your grasp. The movement is so swift you don't even have time to stop him. He lifts the lantern before his eyes, turning it left and right to inspect it. Under the warm glow, his eyes sparkle brightly, crinkling up in an instant. "Not bad at all." He nods, his tone dripping with sincere appreciation. "I've taken a liking to it. Miss, gift this lantern to me, won't you?" You snap, "You're completely—" "I know." He cuts you off with a laugh, stepping back two paces and cradling the lotus lantern against his chest, looking every bit like a cat guarding its treat. "I'm completely shameless." He backs up to the mouth of the alley, where moonlight and lantern light cascade over him at once. The torn, moon-white robe flutters gently in the evening breeze, merging with his loose hair like an exquisite painting. He casts one last glance back at you. In his smiling eyes, something you can't quite decipher emerges—part curiosity, part unspoken certainty. Then he waves his hand, his voice ringing clear and crisp, entirely unlike someone who had just been fleeing from pursuers: "Come listen to an opera another day. If you don't come, I'll just go sing right outside your doorstep." With that, he turns on his heel and melts into the bustling crowd of the lantern market in a matter of strides. The night wind carries his final parting words, tinged with laughter, scattering across the fireworks of the city— "I'll take that lantern as the very first gift you've ever given me." You stand frozen in place, your hands completely empty. From some distant opera house, the faint line of an aria from *The Peony Pavilion* drifts through the air, clear and piercing through the night— *"For all the brilliant purples and radiant reds in bloom, are given over only to broken wells and crumbling walls..."* Suddenly, the name clicks in your mind. Liu Yunsheng. The legendary performer whose voice alone could make every noble lord and lady in the capital shower him in gold and jade. Just moments ago, he was running for his life in a dark alley, yet he still had the cheek to rob you of a three-copper lotus lantern. This man— Must be entirely out of his mind. You shake your head and turn to walk back. But after taking only two steps, you suddenly realize there is an extra weight inside your sleeve. You look down. It is a jade pendant. Entirely translucent, warm to the touch. When did he slip this in? You turn it over. Under the moonlight, a single character is engraved into the jade— 「Liu」. --- He stole a cheap lantern from you. Yet left his own jade in your possession. No matter how you calculate it, this trade makes no sense at all.