Opera

Chapter 260: The Opera

“No white flour. Got sorghum flour and cornmeal, though.”

A wiry old man, squatting on a large square stone and holding a chipped porcelain bowl, spoke to Lü Zhuangyuan, who had been inquiring about buying grain.

“Aren’t those fields full of millet? Why no white flour? We’re paying, not stealing.” Lü Zhuangyuan sounded reluctant to give up.

Coarse grain was edible, but it just didn’t taste as good as fine flour. Besides, it wasn’t his own money. No need to be frugal.

The wiry old man shook his head like a rattle-drum. “Can’t do it. The white flour has to be saved for the government tax. If I can’t pay the grain tax, they’ll drag my son off for corvée labor.”

“Little Daoist Priest, what do you think…”

Lü Zhuangyuan turned, casting a questioning glance at Li Huowang, who was absently petting Mantou’s head with one hand.

After receiving a slight nod, Lü Zhuangyuan turned back to the old man. “Alright, alright. Coarse grain it is. But we’re buying a lot, so you’d better give us a discount.”

As sack after sack of grain was loaded onto the cart, the wheels sank noticeably deeper into the earth.

But buying so much had its advantages. At least, the old man agreed to lend them two empty grain silos to sleep in.

Even though all they had bought was coarse grain, Yang Xiaohai could still make something edible from it.

Sticky lumps of mixed-grain dough were plastered around the rim of a black iron wok, baking into crusty, golden-brown flatbreads. In the center of the wok was a broth made from the leftover mutton bones from the day before. The golden flatbread and the bone broth were their dinner.

Simple fare, but very tasty.

“Little Daoist Priest, this place is crowded. At night, we’ll need to post a few more men to watch the sheep. Otherwise, some son of a bitch without a fucking conscience is bound to try and steal them,” Lü Zhuangyuan reminded Li Huowang, bowl in hand, as he ate his baked flatbread.

“It’s fine. Let Mantou sleep in the pen tonight. She’ll bark if anyone tries to steal a sheep.”

Li Huowang tossed a bone, completely stripped of meat, onto the ground. Mantou, who had been lying under his stool, lunged forward immediately. Grabbing it in her mouth, she dragged it back to her spot. Pinning one end under her paw, she began gnawing with relish, letting out a satisfied crunch-crunch-crunch.

“Just a dog isn’t quite enough. How about I send my youngest son to keep her company? I just asked around about the price. Once we leave Qingqiu, those sheep are going to be worth a lot of money.”

Seeing that Li Huowang didn’t refuse, a satisfied smile spread across Lü Zhuangyuan’s face. He felt a surge of pride. “Heh, the Lü Family Troupe is finally pulling its weight again!”

“Your daughter-in-law is having the baby out here in the wilds. Is she okay? Should we find a midwife in this village to check on her?”

“It’s fine, it’s nothing. She’s already had one kid. Having a second is no different from taking a shit. Ah… Little Daoist Priest, my apologies. Shouldn’t be talking about this while we’re eating.”

Just as the group was eating in the crude grain silo, they heard a commotion from outside.

Gouwa, who was squatting by the door, glanced back at Li Huowang before fishing another golden flatbread from the wok. Sticking it in his mouth, he picked up his bowl and, filled with curiosity, headed outside.

The silo fell quiet. The only sounds were the slurping of soup and the sticky, rhythmic chewing. The flatbread made with cornmeal was pasty and stuck to the teeth; you couldn’t eat it quickly, only slowly chew it down.

Before long, Gouwa came back inside, holding his empty bowl, a delighted look on his face. “Hey! You guys wanna know what I just saw?”

The others glanced at him, then went back to their dinners. No one could be bothered to respond.

Seeing that no one was taking the bait, Lü Xiucai, wanting to save his friend from embarrassment, asked at just the right moment. “What did you see?”

Gouwa put down his bowl and clapped his hands together excitedly. “I just saw a bunch of opera performers! A whole troupe, men and women! They’re setting up a stage at the village entrance right now!”

The moment these words left his mouth, Li Huowang’s group remained unfazed, but every single member of the Lü Family Troupe immediately perked up.

If there was one thing in the world that constituted pure, naked hatred, it was seeing a rival in the same trade.

“Oh, is that so?!” Lü Zhuangyuan slammed his bowl down on the ground, wiped his mouth with the front and back of his sleeve, and arched his perpetually hunched back. Like a rooster, he strutted toward the door.

“Let’s go! Check it out! I want to see just how they sing opera here in the Great Liang!”

Li Huowang looked up at his retreating back, then continued eating his fragrant, glutinous flatbread.

Lü Zhuangyuan couldn’t care less about most things, but the moment he encountered a rival opera troupe, he was like a rooster on stimulants—incredibly invested.

Li Huowang didn’t care at all. But for the others, this was a huge draw. They had been traveling all day, every day, with never a chance to relax.

Hearing that there was an opera, the others could no longer sit still. They wolfed down the rest of their food, put down their bowls, and headed outside.

“Senior Brother Li, let’s go watch too.”

“Yeah, Daoist, let’s go! I love watching opera!”

“No.”

“Senior Brother Li, don’t be like that! Let’s go, it’ll be fun! I used to love it when my grandmother would hold me and we’d stand in the crowd watching the show.” Bai Lingmiao tugged lightly on Li Huowang’s arm, a hint of coaxing entering her voice.

“Yeah, let’s go, let’s go! Please, Daoist?” The young monk, still in his tattered robes, pressed close to Li Huowang’s other side, a look of longing in his eyes.

Li Huowang stared at the monk in front of him, his lips twitching slightly. He finally managed to swallow the curse words that were on the tip of his tongue.

He put down his bowl and strode outside. Behind him, the cheers of Bai Lingmiao and the monk rang out.

When he got outside, the previously empty village entrance was already packed with people. The walls and the trees were covered with spectators. Judging by the numbers, it seemed the entire village had turned out. The Lü Family Troupe was among them.

Li Huowang took Bai Lingmiao’s hand and quickly climbed onto a roof. Sitting down on the hard roof tiles, he looked at the brightly lit stage in the distance.

To make it easier for the audience to see, the troupe had hung several lanterns on the stage, making it the brightest spot in the whole village.

Ratta-tat-tat-tat! With the distinctive music of a traditional opera, a general with a red face took the stage, his back bristling with six command flags and two long pheasant feathers adorning his head. He moved in time with the rhythm of the music.

He flourished the twin white maces in his hands to the beat of the music. With a sudden, sharp pose, the music stopped, and he began to sing. His voice was resolute and heroic, bold and clear.

“I hear the golden drums shake the sky~! It rouses my~ ambition to break the Heavenly Gate! I remember in years past, upon my blue warhorse~, how majestic I was! So long as I live, my duty shall be done! Not an inch of our land shall go to another!!”

“Bravo!!”

Li Huowang watched as Bai Lingmiao and the monk clapped along with the crowd, shouting their praise. He first glanced at her joyful profile, then looked back up at the performer on the stage.

Judging by the lyrics, it seemed to describe the thoughts of a Great Liang general before he set off on a campaign. But Li Huowang didn’t know which play this was, nor who the general was or where he was going to fight.

He had only come because he had been persuaded, anyway. He didn’t care much about the plot. He just watched along with the others, a bit confused.

At first, Li Huowang thought this opera wasn’t much different from Lü Zhuangyuan’s; it was just a different style of singing. But soon, he noticed something was off.