"Sigh⊠what a loss."
Chen Ling walked along the mountain path back home, looking down at his cotton coat with two bullet holes in it. His eyes were filled with heartache.
As a reserve officer during the exam period, he didnât receive a salary, and there were no subsidies for damaged clothing. Calculating it this way, he had lost a piece of clothing for no reason while working⊠This only added to the financial strain of his already struggling family.
Of course, he had gained something today.
[Current Expectation: 40%]
Ever since Qian Fan had assigned him to take over Wu Youdongâs investigation, the audience expectation value had been steadily increasing. It rose by 5% when he went to the teahouse to find the law enforcement officers, and it surged by 10% after he single-handedly took down the tavern.
Initially, Chen Ling had thought that the law enforcement officers returning to the tavern would also yield expectation value, but in reality, it didnât. It seemed that the expectation value only increased when he was personally present to witness the events.
Chen Ling felt that he was gradually figuring out a way to quickly accumulate expectation value.
After walking along the mountain path for over two hours, he finally returned to Frost Street. Before he even entered the house, he heard a clear and melodious opera voice coming from inside.
"The young nun is but sixteen,
In the bloom of youth, her hair shorn by her master.
Every day, she burns incense and changes the water in the Buddha hall,
Seeing a few young men playing beneath the mountain gate.
He gazes at me,
And I gaze at him.
He and I, I and he,
Our hearts are entwined with longingâŠ"
Hearing this opera piece, Chen Lingâs eyebrows raised slightly.
This segment,
"Longing for the Mundane,"
was a classic in traditional opera. In his previous life, it had become widely known thanks to the famous movie
"Farewell My Concubine,"
and Chen Ling had heard it many times. However, he hadnât expected that the opera repertoire in this world would be the same as in his previous life.
What surprised Chen Ling even more was how beautiful Chen Yanâs voice was. His singing skills were incredibly solid, surpassing even the famous performers Chen Ling had seen in theaters in his past life.
Logically speaking, without a master to guide him, it should have been nearly impossible for Chen Yan to reach this levelâŠ
As Chen Ling pondered this, he walked into the house and saw Chu Muyun sitting in the living room in the same posture as before, intently reading a book.
"Have you been sitting here all day without moving?" Chen Ling couldnât help but ask.
"I moved. I went out for a walk this morning to get some fresh air."
Chen Ling nodded. "Did Chen Yan disturb you?"
"Not at all."
"Thatâs good." Chen Ling sat down at the table and looked toward the bedroom, where Chen Yan was practicing his eyebrow makeup in front of a mirror while vocalizing. His expression was complicated as he spoke,
"Chen Yan has been interested in opera since he was a child. Unfortunately, District Three is too small, and thereâs no one who can teach him⊠Our family canât afford a teacher either."
"Opera⊠not many people understand it these days," Chu Muyun glanced toward the bedroom.
"From what I know, even in Aurora City, there arenât many who do."
Chen Yanâs singing gradually softened. It seemed he had heard Chen Ling return and immediately ran to the living room, asking excitedly,
"Brother, do I look good with this makeup?"
Chen Yan blinked, the apricot-red eyeshadow softly blending outward, delicate and gentle. His eyes, outlined with thick black liner, were lifted upward, making them appear especially vivid.
Chen Ling recognized this as the makeup for the
"Dan"
role in opera. However, since Chen Yan was entirely self-taught, there were some differences compared to what Chen Ling had seen in his previous life.
Even so, it was still an absolutely flawless, perfect face of a beautiful young man.
"You look great," Chen Ling answered sincerely. "But there are a few details that arenât quite right⊠When I have time, Iâll help you fix them."
"Brother, do you know about opera makeup too?"
"Just a little."
Chen Yanâs eyes were filled with admiration as he looked at him.
"Brother, do you think I can perform at the schoolâs New Yearâs party after I go back?"
"Of course you can. Youâre the only one in all of District Three who can sing opera. When you put on your costume, finish your makeup, and start singing, your classmates will definitely be amazed," Chen Ling said with a light laugh.
"Is he still going to school?" Chu Muyun asked in surprise.
"Yes," Chen Ling nodded. "Heâs only in his first year of high school⊠But he got sick just a few days after starting school. Now that heâs better, he should be able to start with the next batch of freshmen."
"Brother, what should I sing when the time comes?"
"If itâs just you performing,
'Longing for the Mundane'
is a good choiceâŠ"
"Then Iâll go practice some more!"
Chen Yanâs eyes sparkled, and he immediately ran back to the bedroom, the large red opera robe draped over his shoulders, ready to start practicing again.
After all, Chen Yan was only fifteen years old. At that age, he yearned for friends and attention⊠Back when Chen Ling was in school, he had often fantasized about picking up a guitar and performing in front of countless teachers and students.
Unfortunately⊠he had no talent for it.
But for Chen Yan, being able to combine his passion with performance was an incredibly exciting prospect.
"Donât rush," Chen Ling said with a helpless smile. "Clean up first, and then weâll get ready for dinner."
Chen Yan obediently came to help Chen Ling wash the vegetables. As he did, he caught sight of the two large holes in the cotton coat, and his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Brother, what happened to your coat?" His tone suddenly became serious.
"Itâs nothing, just got caught on something."
Chu Muyun, who had been reading, looked over at the sound. His eyes narrowed behind his glassesâŠ
"You were shot?"
Chen Yanâs head snapped up.
"No, they didnât hit me," Chen Ling quickly explained, feeling Chen Yanâs gaze. "They were too slow to shoot, and I dodged⊠Iâm not hurt."
Chu Muyun gave him a once-over and nodded slightly. "Indeed, youâre not injured."
"Brother, who shot at you?" Chen Yan asked coldly.
"It wasâŠ"
Chen Ling was about to say Ice Spring Street, but when he saw the icy glint in Chen Yanâs eyes, he hesitated for a moment before saying, "Just a couple of small-time thugs⊠Theyâve already been arrested by the law enforcement officers."
He knew Chen Yan was a Fusionist and that Chen Yan had gone on a killing spree in Ice Spring Street that night⊠If he mentioned Ice Spring Street again, he was afraid Chen Yan would go back and slaughter the entire street overnight.
After all, that street was likely now occupied by law enforcement officers. If Chen Yan went there again, he might run into a judge.
Hearing this, Chen Yanâs expression softened. He silently picked up the torn cotton coat.
"...Iâll sew it up for you."
Chen Yan had made his own opera robes, so sewing up a coat wasnât a difficult task for him.
"They had guns⊠How did you win?" Chu Muyun stared into Chen Lingâs eyes, as if trying to see through his thoughts.
"They had guns, but they didnât know how to use them. They fired a few shots, but they all hit my coat⊠Why are you asking?"
Chen Ling naturally couldnât mention that he possessed
[Dance of Slaughter]
, as that involved the theater and the "audience."
"...Nothing."
Chu Muyun withdrew his gaze, staring at the cover of his book, lost in thought.
After the three of them finished dinner, they each returned to their rooms. The night enveloped the sky, with only the silent blue auroras drifting above.
As Chen Ling fell into sleep, his consciousness drifted into the theater.
In the dark, silent room, a figure slowly approached.
It was Chu Muyun.
His glasses reflected a pale glow under the auroras, and his cold eyes stared at the sleeping Chen Ling, a hint of killing intent flickering in their depths.
His right hand, holding a short knife as cold as the moon, slowly roseâŠ