Notes on Longevity

Chapter 72 The Dead Actor of the Pear Garden, the Mad Scholar of the Capital

"Squeak~" Another room was pushed open.

Zhou Zhou looked at the empty room, and the image of the thin, tearful little Taoist priest floated into his mind. He always remembered that handsome face. The first time he saw him was when Grandpa Medicine and Corn carried him back from the snow and he was lying on the bed.

When he learned that the man was a Taoist priest, his first reaction was to take him to Zoumaguan. But Grandpa Yao shook his head and said, "The road up the mountain is blocked by this heavy snow. I want to ask my sister for help."

But he refused, fearing he would implicate his sister. In the end, it was Yumi who suggested sending him here. Now, six years have passed in the blink of an eye.

He closed the door again and looked around. Again, because no one was there, the yard looked rather dirty. He thought he'd call someone to clean it later, so he prepared to leave through the courtyard, but then he saw a boy standing at the entrance connecting the front yard to the courtyard.

The young man was dressed in a Taoist robe and held a whisk in his hand. He just stood there looking at me.

Ping An crossed the street, the winding street near the pear orchard, but the street in front of him was packed with people. They were gathered together, looking towards the pear orchard. He walked forward curiously, wondering if the pear orchard had become this popular now. The audience was crowded outside.

But when he got closer and heard the people talking, he realized that things were not as he thought.

"It's such a pity."

"Yes, this Pear Garden was named by the late emperor and given to Master Xie."

"That second prince is truly wicked. Why does he have to keep fixating on someone else's daughter? Doesn't he know that the girl is already engaged and about to get married?"

"Sigh, what a pity."

"A beautiful actress and a top scholar in the imperial examinations, what a pity. It should have been a wonderful love story."

Hearing these melancholy faces, Ping An became even more melancholy. He frowned slightly, walked up behind the group of people who were talking, and asked them with a whisk in hand, "May I ask you gentlemen what you meant just now? I didn't quite catch what you said, so please enlighten me."

The group turned around at the sound, and when they saw Ping An dressed in a Taoist robe, they immediately turned around and returned the greeting: "Taoist Master."

"Excuse me, what happened here?" Ping An had already guessed something from their conversation, but she didn't know the extent of the problem.

"Sigh!" One of them sighed, shaking his head, and said to Ping An with a helpless expression, "Actually, it's not a big deal. It's just that an actor died and a top scholar went mad!"

Ping An was stunned by the man's words. "What do you mean by 'an actor died and a top scholar went mad'?"

“Five or six years ago, there was a scholar in this opera troupe named Yang You’an. He came in first place in the imperial examination and became the top scholar,” the man said.

"Being the top scholar is a good thing, why would someone go crazy?" Ping An asked, puzzled.

"I don't know the specifics, but I do know that on the night the emperor summoned him, the second prince came to this place, first..."

"Later, when the top scholar returned, he saw the mess in the opera troupe and the body of the troupe leader's daughter, and he went mad! As for why, you can ask the young master in the opera troupe now, he may know."

Ping An frowned as he watched the man finish speaking, shake his head, and leave. He then turned his gaze to the crowd.

He walked in his Taoist robe, as the crowd parted to make way for him, deep in thought, wondering how this could have happened.
The young man leading the horse at the gate wanted to stop him, but seeing that Ping An was dressed in a Taoist robe, he couldn't make a move. He could only say, "Taoist Master, my master is inside. If you want to come in, I can go and inform him first." Ping An looked at the young man, who was about the same age as him, and bowed to him with a Taoist salute. He said, "I am Ping An, the head of the Pear Garden Troupe saved my life. Please inform him."

"Ping An?" The boy pondered the name Ping An with a troubled expression. He felt as if he had heard the name somewhere before, but he just couldn't remember where.

"Are you Master Ping An from Zouma Temple?" After a moment of thought, the young man suddenly remembered that he often heard the head of the family and the crown princess mention the name of a Taoist priest when he was in the mansion.

Ping An was puzzled, wondering how he knew, but still replied, "Ping An, disciple of Zouma Guan."

"Is it really you?" Upon receiving Ping An's reply, the young man exclaimed excitedly, as if he had seen a familiar face he hadn't recognized before. "I often hear the head of the family and the crown princess talking about you."

"Patriarch? Crown Princess?" Ping An was even more confused. He didn't seem to know any wealthy families in Fuyang City, let alone the Crown Prince!
"My family head's surname is Zhou, and his given name is also Zhou," the boy explained excitedly to Ping An.

“Zhou Zhou?” Ping An knew the name, but the Zhou Zhou he knew was the beggar Zhou from the dilapidated house, not the head of a family.

"It's Zhou Zhou from that dilapidated house in the north of the city. I heard that the head of the family even saved you."

Although the boy's words made it clear that the family head he was referring to was Zhou Zhou, whom he knew, he still didn't understand the concept of family head.

"Please come in," the boy said to Ping An.

"Don't we need to report this?" Ping An asked, puzzled.

"Need not."

Ping An bowed to the boy, and after the boy returned the bow, he walked towards the pear orchard with his whisk in hand.

As he walked through the front yard and looked at the stage, he remembered a story, a story called "The Actor's Play." He still remembered the poem written by the actor before he died in that play: "The actress in red dress awaits your return, but I hear of the talented scholar climbing the phoenix branch. In the end, I am not satisfied, and my red lips have been tasted by ten thousand men."

Ping An walked through the front yard but didn't see Zhou Zhou, so he went inside. Looking at the dusty but clean objects along the way, he knew in his heart that Zhou Zhou must come here often.

Ping An stood by the door connecting the front yard and the central courtyard, watching Zhou Zhou walk around. Just as he was about to step forward, Zhou Zhou also prepared to leave. Both of them looked quite different.

Especially Ping An. The once youthful and delicate-looking Ping An has grown up and is no longer the same. When their eyes met, Ping An was the first to smile.

When Zhou Zhou saw Ping An smiling at him, he was taken aback for a moment, and then smiled back at Ping An.

"Master Ping An".

The two walked toward each other and finally stopped under the big tree where Ping An had told Zhang Wanyi about Kunlun.

"Young Master Zhou." Zhou Zhou bowed to Ping An with clasped hands. This time, Ping An did not return the bow with a Daoist salute, but instead returned the bow with clasped hands as well.

"Didn't Master Ping'an go to Zouma Temple? Why did he suddenly come down the mountain?" Zhou Zhou asked Ping'an with a puzzled look. He was quite surprised by Ping'an's appearance.

(End of this chapter)