Chapter 537: Chapter 274: The Last Man of Dayong
Liu Su’e shook her head to indicate she didn’t know. In her life, except for that year when she passed through the old gardens of the Western Market and encountered opera ghosts’ entanglement, she had never encountered anything else strange, let alone gods or witchcraft.
Xu Qing asked her to think carefully. Liu Su’e furrowed her delicate brows, pondering hard, until finally her eyes lit up, "When I was at the Shuimen Bridge Inn, a few ruffians broke into my room, spoke rudely, and had ill intentions. But in that critical moment, a flying head with long hair covering its face flew in and threw those ruffians down the stairs one by one."
"Thinking back now, it might have been the opera ghosts lending a hand, perhaps even the so-called Xiaosi they mentioned..."
"..."
Xu Qing was speechless. Calling it an opera ghost was indeed appropriate, but it was definitely not just Xiaosi. As for the decapitation and not dying technique, who else could it be besides the Embroidery Lady?
"Boss Liu, let me just be straightforward. Have you ever encountered strange willow trees before, or visited places with lots of willows?"
The willow is considered the five ghosts’ tree. The burying place of the Fake Overlord in the opera garden of the Western Market has a grove of willows, and since Boss Liu’s surname is Liu, Xu Qing couldn’t help but think more about it.
"Willow tree..."
Liu Su’e was momentarily stunned, as memories long buried resurfaced in her mind...
...
Su’e, this girl, was an orphan picked up by the opera troupe. She learned opera from a young age, had a clear voice, and nimble footwork. The troupe had many orphans, and everyone lived crammed together without real parents, usually looked after by the stars of the opera garden.
When the troupe wasn’t performing, and there were many guests, the disciples learning and practicing opera in the pear garden were ordered to stop to avoid disturbing the performances in the garden.
Su’e loved singing opera and also cherished tranquility. When the troupe master and stars forbid practice, the children living in the same courtyard would play wildly all over the place. Su’e couldn’t bond with them and wanted to practice, so over time, she developed an odd habit of preferring to practice her voice by the Tanggu River, by the riverbank filled with levee willows, finding a crooked old willow tree for a quiet place to practice opera.
Strangely enough, after only a couple of days of practicing by the Tanggu River, an old woman, thin as a rail but with bright eyes, appeared as a listener under the old willow tree.
Whenever Su’e arrived, the old woman would stand under the willow tree, leaning on a cane, listening with deep absorption.
Su’e would finish a song, and the old woman would savor it for a long time, as if she could taste it.
But Su’e knew she was just an apprentice, and although she sang well, she was far from a true opera star!
She felt the old woman wasn’t waiting here every time because of her singing.
After this continued for three days, Su’e couldn’t help it and approached the old woman to chat.
However, the old woman refused to say anything, not her surname, nor where she lived.
She did mention having a big family of children and grandchildren, but lamented that none had achieved much, none were reliable, and none were willing to listen to her chatter.
The old woman felt like a lonely widow, with no place to pour out her heart, saying that she had spoken more today than in the past few years.
A girl without parents, and an old woman without children to rely on, met just like this under the old willow tree.
Su’e was of a soft heart, seeing the old woman lonely, she would sit with her when she had time. Usually, she would use the copper plates she saved in her purse to buy some soft pastries suitable for old people to chew and occasionally give the old woman a piece.
The wrinkles on the old woman’s face unfolded with a smile.
Later, as Su’e’s singing skills improved, she began to learn to sing Daomadan. This type of martial singing sometimes required a handy "Horse Whip" for gestures.
Su’e practiced her voice and skills outside; where could she find a Horse Whip?
Once, while practicing the posture of wielding a whip to urge a horse, she didn’t have an appropriate prop in her hand.
The old woman watched her practice but said nothing. When Su’e came to practice the next day, the old woman had a willow whip in her hand. The whip, made of tender, flexible willow branches, wouldn’t dry in the wind nor soften in the rain. She didn’t know what method the old woman used to make it.
Su’e took the willow whip, and it rustled and howled in the air, a perfect posture for urging a horse! It was much better than the fake whip made of silk fabric; it was even good enough to urge a real horse!
After getting used to it, the willow whip became dear to Su’e’s heart.
Days passed by, and over time, the bond between the young and old grew deeper.
An old lonely woman and an orphaned opera singer, though never bowed in ceremony to become sworn relatives, their warmth was no different than that of a mother and daughter.
Under the old willow tree gradually became the piece of cherished soil neither of them could bear to part with.
One day, the old woman’s demeanor was unlike usual. After listening to a new opera Su’e sang, she said out of nowhere, "Girl, old lady’s time is near, this fate is probably running out, but don’t worry. This life and death is one empty dream, just think of it as practicing making you tired, sleeping under the willow tree and having a dream..."
Su’e felt her nose tingle, having no parents, and finally meeting someone who wasn’t a relative yet was closer than a relative, how could she easily let go?
"Auntie, if your children and grandchildren aren’t reliable, why not follow me from now on, I’ll take care of you. I can sing opera; I can earn silver to support you in your old age."
The old woman saw the girl cry, feeling uneasy in her heart, and finally sighed, saying, "Silly child, if only I could go, but even if I could leave now, there’d have to be time..."
"Auntie, please don’t say this from now on. If Auntie doesn’t want to, then except for days of thunder and rain, I’ll come visit Auntie even if it’s one sunny day a year."