Pei Yubai froze completely. From head to toe, inside and out.
His fingers clenched, then loosened. His lips moved, but no sound came out. In that instant, his ears turned so red they seemed about to burn, the redness spreading from his ears to his neck, from his neck to his chin, and from his chin to his cheekbones.
In the end, even his face took on a faint flush.
In all his twenty-six years, he had never been so flustered. "I... didn't..."
His voice was much lower than usual, as though squeezed out of his throat. He got those words out, then stopped.
He had no idea what to say. His mind was blank, all his vocabulary, logic, and ability to react vanishing in that moment.
He... didn't know how to answer. Did he like him? Probably not. Did he not like him? But even he knew something was wrong with his unusual behavior.
Qiguan Yuan looked at his thoroughly reddened ears and neck and nodded. "Oh~ So you don't."
Qiguan Yuan continued, "What a shame."
After saying that, he handed Pei Yubai's phone back.
Pei Yubai reached out to take it, his fingers brushing Qiguan Yuan's fingertips. They were cool, like the coolness of his ankle when Pei Yubai had helped him put on his socks and shoes that morning.
Their fingers touched for less than half a second before Pei Yubai took the phone, moving as quickly as if he had been burned.
Qiguan Yuan rose from the railing.
He moved very slowly, first drawing up his dangling leg and planting his foot on the railing, then bracing himself against a pillar to stand, and finally straightening the robes he had creased by sitting on them.
His silver hair slipped off his shoulders and fell to his waist.
He lowered his gaze to the lens-not Pei Yubai's phone, but the cameraman's lens. "There's no need to give your love to someone just passing through."
His voice was quiet, but clear.
His tone was light when he said "passing through," as though speaking of something unimportant. As though he really were that inconsequential passerby. "Until fate brings us together again. My... fans."
When he said "fans," the corners of his mouth curved, as though he found the term a little novel and a little amusing.
Then he turned and waved to Pei Yubai. "I'll be going first, Pei Yubai. If fate allows, we'll meet again."
He turned and headed toward the side hall's back door. His pace was neither fast nor slow, just as usual. His dark red robes looked very deep in the shadows, his silver hair swaying behind him like a length of flowing silk.
Under the gazes of the livestream's viewers and Pei Yubai, he vanished into the light beyond the door.
He left without hesitation, as though he hadn't been the one to ask Pei Yubai that suggestive question just now.
With his business done, he brushed himself off and left, leaving Pei Yubai standing alone, staring at the door.
Sunlight streamed through the doorway, casting a bright rectangle on the floor.
Qiguan Yuan's shadow flashed through that patch of light, then disappeared.
He stood there for a long time.
Long enough for the monk in the side hall to finish interpreting fortune sticks for three worshippers, long enough for Shen Yuzhou to appear from somewhere, poke his head through the doorway for a look, then duck back out.
Cheng Yanqiu walked past him carrying a cup of tea, glanced at him, and said nothing.
He didn't look at his phone. But he knew the livestream must be full of Qiguan Yuan's final words now.
[Until fate brings us together again.]
He lowered his eyes and slipped his hands into his pockets.
His fingers touched something. It was the paper wrapper from the marriage fortune stick Qiguan Yuan had given him when assigning the task that morning. He had forgotten to throw it away. The paper was made from bamboo pulp, very thin and rustling beneath his touch.
He took the paper out of his pocket, glanced at it, folded it twice, and put it back.
Then he turned and headed out of the side hall.
He paused when he reached the doorway. Sunlight streamed in from outside and fell across his face, making him squint.
Then he stepped outside.
The bullet comments were still rolling. After Qiguan Yuan left, the screen was filled with wailing.
[Yuanyuan, until fate brings us together again]
[Waaah, I don't want you to go]
[Yuanyuan! You're not just passing through! Until fate brings us together again!]
[Until fate brings us together again!]
[Until fate brings us together again! We have to see you again!]
After quite a while, the bullet comments slowly quieted down.
But the livestream's viewer count hadn't dropped much. Some of the people who had come for Qiguan Yuan left, but many stayed.
Perhaps they wanted to watch a little longer. Perhaps they had nowhere to go.
After all, that was what it was like to fall for someone outside the entertainment industry.
You didn't know when you would see him next, or whether there would even be a next time.
All you could do was wait wherever he might appear, waiting for a shot that might never come.
When Pei Yubai walked out of the side hall, the sunlight fell right across his face.
His ears were no longer red. He walked along the corridor, his steps neither long nor quick. He looked no different from usual.
When he reached the front hall, Shen Yuzhou was squatting on the steps eating an apple. Seeing him approach, Shen Yuzhou raised his half-eaten apple and waved it. "Brother Pei, want some?"
Pei Yubai shook his head and walked past him.
Shen Yuzhou watched his retreating figure, took a bite of apple, and mumbled, "What's up with him?"
Standing nearby with her cup of tea, Cheng Yanqiu glanced in the direction Pei Yubai had gone. "No idea."
Probably feeling lousy because his wife ran off, Cheng Yanqiu silently quipped.
She lowered her head and took a sip of tea. It had already gone cold.
Jiang Wantang sat on the corridor's built-in bench, still holding the round fan.
She watched Pei Yubai's retreating figure, then glanced toward the side hall.
Her expression didn't change, but her fan paused briefly before she resumed fanning herself.
Ji Shiyu stood beside a pillar with his eyes lowered, his thoughts unknown. His fingers pinched the corner of the envelope, which he had already creased.
Lin Yanru emerged from the front hall of the Yue Lao Temple, holding a fortune stick and reading its verse.
Seeing Pei Yubai walk past, she looked up, glanced at him, then lowered her head to continue reading.
Pei Yubai reached the back courtyard, crossed the corridor, and arrived at the entrance to his private courtyard. He pushed the door open, went inside, closed it, and leaned against it.
The courtyard was quiet. The bamboo still rustled in the wind, and sunlight filtered through the gaps between its leaves, casting a small patch of light on the ground.
He took the twice-folded paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and looked at it again.
There were no words on it. It was only a blank sheet of bamboo-pulp paper. But he looked at it for a long time.
Then he folded the paper again, put it in his pocket, walked to the window, and sat down.
Outside the window was the low wall, and beyond it was the courtyard where Qiguan Yuan had stayed. Its door was closed, quiet, as though no one was there.
He watched for a while, then picked up the script on the table.
He opened it to act four and began reading from the first line. "I thought you wouldn't come."
Strangely enough, he managed to take it in.