"Mr. Yu, do you know much about theater?"
Qin Manjiang asked.
Yu Chenglin smiled. "Not as much as Mr. Mei. We're both in the performing arts, so I make a point of following it, that's all."
"Then could you tell us the story of the [Southern Branch Troupe]?" Qin Manjiang seemed rather curious. "Mr. Mei was vague and only told us about a dream. Since the [Southern Branch Troupe] was the most distinctive opera troupe in Fu City, you must know something about it, right?"
"Haha." Yu Chenglin chuckled. "Since you're all interested, I'd be happy to."
"The [Southern Branch Troupe] was the only troupe with both daytime and nighttime performances. They sang for the living by day and the dead by night."
"The [Southern Branch Troupe] wasn't native to Fu City. They came from elsewhere, following the river. A hundred years ago, they passed through here and, for some reason, stayed. They remained for many years. As time passed, the people nearby grew accustomed to their presence and would invite them to perform at weddings and funerals."
"Looking at it from a modern perspective, the Southern Branch Troupe was indeed very strange. They rarely recruited outsiders, and when they did, they only took on stage performers, whose bearing and looks had to be first-rate."
Yu Chenglin spoke slowly.
Qin Manjiang's eyes flickered. There were many things he hadn't told anyone.
The strangest of them was his current state.
If his earlier conjecture was right, and his soul had traveled a hundred years into the past to possess "Xiao Qi," then he should currently have Xiao Qi's appearance and voice.
When he'd spoken to Xu Yi from a distance earlier, he could barely explain it away with something like his voice perhaps having been restored. But now... none of it