Lou Junyan looked me over thoughtfully, chuckled softly, and turned to leave.
The next morning, I had breakfast with He Yiyi.
She had prepared an incense basket and said to me, "Anning Temple is very popular with worshippers. Miss Qi, why don't you come with me to offer incense?"
I nodded in agreement.
Upon exiting the house, I saw Lou Junyan dressed in dark black clothes, sitting at the stone table with one hand supporting his forehead, sketching a few lines on a piece of paper with the other.
He looked at He Yiyi and smiled, "It's still early morning, a bit chilly, so I've prepared an outer garment for you."
He Yiyi hesitated slightly, "Is Wulang going too?"
Lou Junyan inquired with great interest, "Does Madam want me to go?"
He Yiyi hesitated for a moment, just about to speak, when she heard Lou Junyan chuckle softly, "I have a friend visiting today, you should go." He stood up, draped his coat over He Yiyi's shoulders, and whispered in her ear, "How about we go and pray to the Goddess of Mercy who grants children?"
He Yiyi's cheeks instantly flushed crimson, reflecting in Lou Junyan's eyes like gentle wisps of smoke.
As I walked past the table, I glanced at it. On the paper was a drawing of a corner of a roof, with a girl leaning against the railing, smiling. She was dressed in a colorful dress with flowing sleeves, and at first glance, she looked like He Yiyi in her youth, standing by the mast of a stage, looking around gracefully.
She looked somewhat familiar, so I couldn't help but ask her, "Does Madam also enjoy listening to opera?"
He Yiyi stopped and looked in the direction of Anning Tower. The sound of bells rang out. After a long while, she said softly, "That was a long time ago."
Because it was not far away, we arrived at Anning Temple in less than an hour.
It was still early, and the temple was sparsely populated. The morning glow shone through the eastern eaves of the tall pagoda, revealing it inch by inch.
A thin layer of morning mist shrouded the mountains. Suddenly, an autumn wind blew, and the bronze bells on the eaves of the temple pagoda rang softly, encircling a circle of ancient and leisurely charm.
I stood by with my hands clasped, watching He Yiyi. She had been kneeling there for almost an hour.
The sound of chanting and the wooden fish reciting scriptures inside the pagoda was faint and indistinct, making me dizzy.
Thinking that I should not be disrespectful in front of Buddha, I put my palms together and gave He Yiyi a slight bow, reminding her in a low voice, "Madam, it has been a long time."
After a while, He Yiyi slowly got up, put the incense in the incense burner, and prostrated herself on the ground to kowtow three times devoutly.
She looked up at the Buddha for a long time before asking, "Does Miss Qi believe in destiny?"
I asked, "Madam, are you referring to fate?"
He Yiyi brushed the hem of her skirt. "Anning Temple is very efficacious. When I was thirteen, I offered incense here and prayed to Buddha for a marriage. On that very day, it really came true."
I think she was referring to Lou Junyan. I was quite surprised because He Ye said that the two of them had been married for almost two years. If she had met Lou Junyan when she was thirteen, and their ambiguous relationship before marriage lasted for six or seven years, it would have been a very worrying thing.
He Yiyi asked softly again, "I wonder if Miss Qi has someone she loves, and if she has given up everything for him?"
I was stunned for a long time before replying, "Yes."
She smiled, her dimples opening up. "I have one too."
We ate vegetarian food at the temple.
I took a bite of my steamed bun and said to He Yiyi, "Madam, are you asking me to treat Young Master Fu this time?"
She nodded slightly. "He's mute. I'd like to ask Miss Qi to see if he can be cured."
I asked, "Does Madam also enjoy listening to Young Master Fu's operas? Is that why she feels sorry for him because he has lost his voice?"
He Yiyi looked tired, and sighed as she lowered her eyes, "It is a bit of a pity..."
I said, "I always see him with makeup on, I don't know what he looks like without makeup."
He Yiyi said softly, "Fu Yi, he is very handsome."
As He Yiyi left Anning Temple, she looked back at the tall pagoda, seemingly talking to herself, "Seven years ago, I made a vow before Buddha, but I haven't fulfilled it yet. Buddha must be angry and has broken this marriage. I beg Buddha's forgiveness this time..."
The voice gradually faded, followed by a barely perceptible sigh. He Yiyi and I then boarded the carriage together.
The cart wheels rolled over the muddy ground; it was already getting dark.
It was raining outside. After walking for about half a cup of tea's time, we heard the coachman say, "Madam, the rain is heavy, the ground is very muddy, and the horse can't move."
I pulled up the carriage curtain; it was pitch black outside, the rain was pouring down, and there were a few claps of thunder.
He Yiyi instructed the driver, "Then stop and wait for the rain to subside before continuing."
We waited inside the carriage for half an hour, but the rain showed no sign of stopping.
Feeling a bit bored, I leaned back in my soft chair and casually asked, "Which of Young Master Fu's plays does Madam like to hear the most?"
The rain pattered softly. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before saying again, "Farewell My Concubine."
The dark clouds outside completely obscured the moonlight, making the car dimly lit. I could only see the outline of He Yiyi's profile, and a soft, babbling melody escaped from her lips.
I could vaguely make out that this sounded like the tune sung by Yu Ji in the play.
The tunes in the play were far less catchy than folk songs. I tried to learn them with a serious attitude, but ended up scaring away a bunch of birds.
While listening to the background, I heard an old man from the opera troupe instructing a newcomer: "The essence of opera singing lies in two words—getting into character."
As soon as the gongs and drums sounded, the actors, made up and dressed in colorful costumes, stepped onto the stage, flicked their water sleeves, and danced with swords. Their eyes and brows were filled with the beauty of nature, and their lyrics were full of deep affection.
Every play was performed with such heart-wrenching emotion; it's unclear whether the actors were too immersed in their roles or simply too sentimental.
For some reason, I felt a pang of sadness, peering through the wooden lattice window at the boundless expanse outside.