Chapter 24

In this world, there were always distinctions of high and low, noble and humble, and within each of these hierarchies, new divisions of status would inevitably emerge. For instance, in a small opera troupe like this, there were renowned performers whose names were widely known, as well as unknown newcomers who were treated even worse than servants.
And Yan Yiming's current identity was that of a newcomer who had just entered Plum Garden two months ago.
In this era, although performers were considered lowly, both men and women in the profession were exceptionally good-looking, whether it was the domineering woman with phoenix eyes and long eyebrows before her or Yan Yiming herself, whose delicate features evoked tenderness and charm.
No one would have expected that this timid, unfamiliar face, who had never dared to stand out before and whom no one even recognized, would now directly take the teacup and offer to give it a try.
This took everyone by surprise, and they all found it laughable. The most indignant among them was the stunningly beautiful woman named Yu Mei, the star performer of Plum Garden, who received the most requests for performances. With so many admirers fawning over her, even the owner of Plum Garden had to show her some consideration. Today, after taking great care with her appearance to meet Jian Yuyan, only to be turned away, how could she not feel humiliated and angry?
Now, seeing this completely unfamiliar face, she initially wanted to slap her but then thought better of it and withdrew her hand. Instead, she smiled radiantly and placed the heavy nanmu tray into Yan Yiming's hands. “Then I'll trouble you, sister.”
“No trouble at all,” Yan Yiming replied, glancing up at the stunning woman before turning to leave. The group of women watched as Yan Yiming walked toward the most luxurious hall in Plum Garden, Yanfei Hall, each inwardly mocking her.
If even Yu Mei could be driven out, what chance did this newcomer, whom they couldn't even remember, have?
Young Master Jian was in such a foul mood today that anyone sent to him would only be met with rejection. She would surely be driven out in no time, so they might as well wait here and enjoy the spectacle.
Yan Yiming held the teacup steadily. The delicate fragrance of Huangshan Maofeng, the finest tea, fit for a noble of Jian Yuyan's status, was unmistakable.
While playing the game, Yan Yiming remembered that Jian Yuyan's favorite was Huangshan Maofeng.
“As expected of a regular at Plum Garden, his preferences are well-known here,” Yan Yiming remarked.
Little A nodded. “Isn't 'philandering' one of Jian Yuyan's defining traits?”
The timeline for Jian Yuyan's character card was later than Yan Yiming had expected, this scenario was set nearly a year later than the previous world.
Because the new task came too quickly, Yan Yiming didn't have time to review all the events that had occurred over the past year. She could only ask Little A as soon as possible whether Jian Yuyan's intense anger today was related to Jian Yu'er. As long as it involved Jian Yu'er, Little A could provide all the details of what had happened.
Sure enough, Jian Yuyan's foul mood was indeed because of Jian Yu'er.
Back then, due to the matter with Nan Gongxuan, both Jian Yuyan and the Chancellor firmly opposed Jian Yu'er marrying him, which led Jian Yu'er to hold a bit of resentment toward Jian Yuyan.
Yan Yiming was slightly surprised. The current timeline was completely unfamiliar to her, and she no longer knew what would happen. So, when she learned that Jian Yu'er could actually harbor negative emotions, she couldn't help but find it unexpected. “Isn't Jian Yu'er's character setting that of an eternally pure and kind-hearted little white lotus? Did your system mess up?”
“According to the original plot, there shouldn't be,” Little A was also quite helpless. In the original game, all the male leads liked her, only Jian Yu'er had the privilege of choosing, never the other way around. But now, because of Yan Yiming's interference, Nan Gongxuan had completely lost interest in Jian Yu'er, causing a shift in her mindset that was no longer within their control. “However, it shouldn't deviate too much. After all, Jian Yu'er is the protagonist, fundamentally, she can't turn dark,” Little A assured Yan Yiming.
Nan Gongxuan had become a thorn in Jian Yu'er's heart, and the longer it stayed, the deeper it pierced. Meanwhile, Jian Yuyan could never bring himself to explain the reason for opposing her marriage to Nan Gongxuan. Back and forth, the once exceptionally close siblings actually began to quarrel. Later, as the female lead who never lacked suitors, Jian Yu'er's relationship with another male lead, Jiang Yi, who was now thriving in the official circles, progressed rapidly.
Just this morning, Jian Yuyan discovered a folding fan by Jian Yu'er's pillow. On the fan was a poem, written in handwriting praised by the emperor himself, accompanied by eloquent and deeply affectionate verses. The meaning of the poem was clear at a glance.
And Jian Yu'er had placed this fan right by her bedside!
Consumed by jealousy, Jian Yuyan confronted Jian Yu'er, demanding to know who had given it to her.
Jian Yu'er blushed as if caught in the act and chided him with a hint of reproach, “Brother, why are you going through my things?”
Jian Yuyan's heart ached with anger, and his tone lost its usual calm and gentleness. “This is an item from an unrelated man, and you keep it by your bedside...”
But Jian Yu'er snatched the fan back, retorting, “What does it have to do with you, brother?”
Brother, he was her brother.
But he wasn't really her brother!
Yet he couldn't reveal the reason.
Even in his fury, Jian Yuyan couldn't bear to harm Jian Yu'er in the slightest. So, he bottled up all his anger and went with a friend to the Plum Garden to listen to opera. His friend, unable to stand his gloomy mood, left for another pavilion to enjoy the performance, leaving Jian Yuyan alone in the Yanfei Hall to drown his sorrows in drink.
Displeased with everyone and never one to let a beauty suffer, Young Master Jian today found all the ladies avoiding him like the plague.
Sure enough, he must have been provoked by Jian Yu'er. Satisfied, Yan Yiming curled his lips into a smile and stepped into Yanfei Hall, a place within the Plum Garden reserved only for the truly noble. By the wall at the entrance, elegant calligraphy read:
Swallows fly, the hall is deep and still,
Sometimes I dream of rain upon my pillow.
Beyond the curtain, no one speaks of spring’s longing,
From the lantern-lit night until now.
This was the brushwork of Jian Yuyan, the capital’s renowned top gentleman. At that moment, having drunk some melancholy wine, he lay in the serene and beautiful pavilion by the water corridor. Even in the depths of winter, Jinling was not overly cold. Jian Yuyan held a wine pot, drinking alone. His hairpin was slightly loose, allowing a few strands to escape, and his brocade robe was worn less meticulously than usual. Though he appeared dissolute, his tall, graceful posture and features more exquisite than any woman’s gave him an aura of unparalleled charm.
Hearing footsteps, he irritably ordered the intruder to leave. Though he adored beauties, he had no patience for fools who couldn’t read the mood.
Unexpectedly, the woman seemed either not to hear his command or chose to test her luck, for her footsteps drew nearer until she stood before him.
A voice like a golden oriole’s song, tinged with the soft, murmuring cadence of the south, drifted melodiously into Jian Yuyan’s ears.
“Young master, some tea.”
Truly a performer, even her speech was more pleasing than most.
But the Plum Garden was never short of beautiful women with enchanting voices. Though her voice was striking, it failed to pique Jian Yuyan’s interest, especially since she had so rudely disturbed his peace.
The young master, who usually only whispered sweet nothings to beauties, was also capable of sharp, humiliating sarcasm. Once, a famous courtesan had boasted she could tame Jian Yuyan’s wandering heart, only to become the laughingstock of the town.
Jian Yuyan couldn’t help but wonder what kind of devastating beauty this bold woman possessed. Could she possibly rival Yu Mei?
Lazily lifting his head, his gaze fell upon the woman’s lovely face. In that instant, the wine pot slipped from his hand and shattered on the cold, hard bluestone.
The crisp sound of breaking porcelain snapped Jian Yuyan out of his daze. He sat up abruptly, staring at the woman before him in disbelief, not missing a single detail.
As a man who had seen countless beauties, from Yu Mei, the capital’s most celebrated performer, to courtesans worth fortunes for a single audience, and even Yan Yiming, the city’s top beauty, none could compare to the woman before him.
Her features were not supremely beautiful, yet they were enough to make Jian Yuyan’s heart skip a beat. She bore an uncanny resemblance to the one he yearned for but could never have. Were it not for the tiny red mole at the corner of her right eye, Jian Yuyan might have suspected this was Jian Yu'er herself.
And that mole… it, too, felt hauntingly familiar.
In this world, Jian Yu'er had captured every shred of Jian Yuyan’s soul, yet there was another woman who had left an indelible mark on Jian Yuyan’s heart.
Not out of love, but because she had shocked him, made him remember.
Yan Yiming.
The woman who knew his deepest secret yet scorned it, who danced between two men and, in death, made it impossible for either to forget her.
The red mole by the right eye of the woman before him was strikingly similar to Yan Yiming's. Ever since Yan Yiming's death, Jian Yuyan often recalled that woman's sly gaze. At times, even he would wonder, how could a woman like that die?
Now, before him stood a woman whose features closely resembled Jian Yu'er's, yet were perfectly combined with the red mole identical to Yan Yiming's. Jian Yuyan couldn't tear his eyes away.
As if unaware, Yan Yiming placed the teacup on the stone table beside her and smiled softly, reminding him to drink.
Jian Yuyan slowly straightened his posture, his gaze fixed intently on Yan Yiming's fluid and graceful movements. After a moment, he leisurely leaned back against the carved railing, took the teacup, and took a small sip.
“Good tea.”
“The tea Young Master Jian requests is naturally the finest.”
“No matter how fine the tea, it cannot compare to the one who pours it,” Jian Yuyan said gently. “What is your name? I've never seen you before.”
“A’Ming.”
Jian Yuyan's hand holding the teacup paused slightly. “Ming?”
“Ming, to astonish the world with a single brilliant feat.”
Was this a coincidence? Jian Yuyan looked at the red mole at the corner of her eye and suddenly laughed heartily.
“Truly a fine name.”
Outside, the other performers who had been waiting to see Yan Yiming humiliated were all eager to see how quickly this presumptuous newcomer would be driven out in disgrace by Young Master Jian. Half an hour passed, then an hour, yet she still hadn't emerged. Eventually, unable to resist, they crept closer to Yanfei Hall, where they could faintly hear a woman's melodious and captivating voice.
That wretch!!! Young Master Jian had actually requested a performance from that wretch. Why? How could this be?
Yu Mei, the star performer of Plum Garden, stood fuming at the door, her delicate face flushed with anger. Yet, she dared not enter. Her phoenix eyes, sharp with fury, seemed to tilt even higher. Gnashing her teeth, she bit her crimson lips in frustration, stamped her feet fiercely on the ground, and stormed off stubbornly as the other performers watched in fearful silence.
That day, everyone in Plum Garden learned that Young Master Jian had taken a liking to a newcomer who had never performed on stage and didn't even have a stage name. Those familiar with her called her “A’Ming.”
Everyone regretted not having the courage to serve Young Master Jian as Yan Yiming had. Who would have thought that Young Master Jian, who had even shown no interest in Yu Mei, would favor such a plain and unremarkable nobody?
Everyone envied her. Yu Mei had even resolved to ruin that little wretch's face after Young Master Jian left, to teach her a lesson for the humiliation. But to their surprise, Young Master Jian's fondness for this “A’Ming” exceeded all expectations.
Before leaving Mei Garden, Jian Yuyan summoned the garden's owner and gave a few instructions. The owner couldn't hide his astonishment as his gaze fell upon Yan Yiming, equally puzzled about what she had done to earn such protection from Young Master Jian.
But the thoughts of the nobility were not for him to guess. He could only hurriedly agree.
By the time the other performers realized what had happened, Yan Yiming had already moved into a private loft with the same privileges as Yu Mei, becoming someone even Yu Mei dared not touch.
Yu Mei was dumbstruck, watching as Yan Yiming walked out of Yanfei Hall. When their eyes met, Yan Yiming casually remarked, “Thank you, sister, for making this possible.”
Yu Mei was so furious she nearly crushed her nails, her hands hidden in her sleeves trembling with barely suppressed rage. But when she saw Jian Yuyan step out afterward, she forced herself to hold back and retreated to the side.
She, too, had influential patrons backing her, but none could compare to someone of Jian Yuyan's status.
She could act recklessly among the performers, but those powerful patrons could crush her with a mere flick of their fingers.
Still, she would wait for the day when Young Master Jian abandoned Yan Yiming. After all, the patience of such noblemen was never long-lasting, and Yu Mei was no useless fool who relied solely on men's favor.
As for Jian Yuyan, the unrequited feelings he had harbored for years seemed like a compensation from the heavens, presenting him with the perfect substitute.
She was a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Jian Yu’er, but the red mole at the corner of her right eye lent her a touch of allure, diminishing her innocence, and a hint of elegance, replacing her youthful naivety.
Placing his affections on someone who resembled his beloved, Jian Yuyan struggled with the appropriateness of such an act.
He loved Jian Yu’er, burying these feelings deep in his heart for so many years. When he saw Jian Yu’er, he even felt ashamed, as though he were betraying her. Yet, when he encountered Yan Yiming, the stirring in his heart was equally undeniable.
After repeatedly sinking into gloom over Jian Yu’er, he recalled Yan Yiming's serene smile and her occasional sharp wit, until her image slowly merged with Jian Yu’er's, erasing all his lingering reluctance.
Jian Yuyan had once said that no woman was truly ugly, even the plainest face, with a little embellishment, could become captivating. Though he had spoken those words casually at the time, they were not entirely untrue.
Overnight, Yan Yiming, now known to everyone, shed her simple, unadorned dresses and donned the exquisite attire worn by Yu Mei and the others. Her hair was adorned with lavish and intricate hairpins. With the finest cosmetics sent by Young Master Jian, a little refinement transformed her completely, presenting a stark contrast to her previously bleak appearance.
Her style was entirely different from Yu Mei's, yet her beauty was no less captivating.
The owner of Plum Garden and the other performers suddenly seemed to understand, marveling at Young Master Jian's keen eye for discovering such a beauty from obscurity.
Yan Yiming scoffed inwardly. As the heroine of the game, Jian Yu’er was naturally one of the most beautiful women. Though she couldn't compare to the face she had crafted before, how could her current appearance be any worse?
When Jian Yuyan saw Yan Yiming the next day, her refined and adorned appearance made her even more beautiful, and the resemblance to Jian Yu’er grew stronger.
Unable to suppress the emotions in his heart any longer, Jian Yuyan became a frequent visitor to Plum Garden, though, truth be told, he had always been one.
A man who spent his years moving among women, how sweet his words were, how skilled he was at pleasing them, Yan Yiming experienced it all clearly during this time.
Even if she never took the stage, the finest rouge would still find its way into her hands. Jian Yuyan visited almost every day, his strikingly handsome features, gentle voice, and honeyed words were enough to captivate any woman.
The Plum Garden and the Pear Garden were the two largest opera houses in Jinling City, each backed by powerful officials and nobles.
Now, as the biting chill of winter approached, plum blossoms burst into bloom, marking the peak season for the Plum Garden. The place was never short of romantic scholars or elegant young gentlemen. Among them, the renowned Master Jian, a frequent visitor from the capital, had been coming so often lately that it drew envy from all around.
Yan Yiming lived day by day in this environment, gradually understanding what it meant to be an opera performer in this era.
Compared to women in the pleasure quarters, opera performers were somewhat different, some sold their art but not their bodies, though such cases were rare. Striving to sing beautifully, apply makeup flawlessly, and execute every movement with grace, all were efforts to capture the attention of the patrons who visited.
If one sang well enough, won favor, or gained fame, they might either inspire a wealthy patron to spend extravagantly on their performances, paving the way for their eventual freedom, or catch the eye of a noble willing to redeem them outright. This was the only path to liberation for performers here.
A fellow performer on friendly terms with Yan Yiming urged her to seize the opportunity. “If you can win Master Jian’s favor,” she said, “even as a concubine, your life would be set.” But Yan Yiming only smiled without replying.
The young performer was astonished. “You don’t like Master Jian? He’s so handsome, so talented, and from such a prestigious family. If not him, then who do you like?”
Yan Yiming hadn’t meant it that way, but she played along with the girl’s question. “Me? I like Prince Yue.”
The young performer burst into laughter. “Well, I’d like to marry the Crown Prince! Since the Crown Princess passed away, he’s refused to appoint a new principal wife. Such a devoted man is hard to find in this world.”
Yan Yiming had nothing to say.
The truth was often buried beneath layers of falsehoods. The prevailing story now was that the Crown Princess had lost her life on her wedding night saving the Crown Prince. Grieving her death, he had taken two consorts but steadfastly refused to appoint a new principal wife.
Yan Yiming cursed inwardly: Nan Gongxuan already has two wives, yet people still call him devoted? What nonsense.
It was the heart of winter, and Yan Yiming claimed she disliked the cold outside, so Jian Yuyan stayed with her in the Plum Garden, listening to music and playing the qin.
Most performers were illiterate, but to Jian Yuyan’s surprise, Yan Yiming was not only literate but also skilled in poetry, calligraphy, painting, and music, no less accomplished than a daughter of an official family.
Far from the dull conversations he often had with ordinary women of the entertainment world, she was clever and exceptionally cultured. Unconsciously, Jian Yuyan began visiting the Plum Garden daily, delighting in how she effortlessly completed verses he started. Intrigued, he asked how she had acquired such knowledge.
It was because she retained the memories of Lady Yan, though known as a troublemaker in the capital, she was also a talented young woman well-versed in the arts.
However, she needed to prepare a different story for Jian Yuyan.
“My father was once a local official, but due to a murder case, our family fell into ruin. Later, when we could no longer make ends meet, I was sold off. After many twists and turns, I ended up here at the Plum Garden.”
As she spoke, Yan Yiming’s gaze grew distant, carrying an unfathomable sorrow. The backgrounds of performers were often tragic, and Jian Yuyan had seen too many to be deeply affected. But perhaps because the woman before him resembled Jian Yu'er so much, her expression stirred something in him. A sudden wave of pity washed over his heart, and his voice softened slightly. “Do you miss your parents now?”
If she missed them, he could send someone to investigate, and perhaps he would uncover something.
Unexpectedly, Yan Yiming abruptly withdrew her smile and replied coldly, “Why should I miss them? When I was sold off, I swore I would live as if I had no parents from that day on.”
Her words were icy and ruthless, yet they carried a raw honesty that was strangely appealing.
Someone came in looking for Yan Yiming and called out, “A'Ming.”
Jian Yuyan suddenly remembered that a year ago, two people had occasionally mentioned this name. Now, everyone addressed her this way, and for some reason, he felt an inexplicable dissatisfaction and anger.
“Don’t you have a stage name?”
“No.”
Jian Yuyan said coldly, “Since you’re a performer, you should have a proper name.”