After being dumped by the diva, I was picked up by her arch-enemy.

Beijing, high-speed rail station, teeming with people.

Jiang Yichen walked out of the station exit with his backpack, and was greeted by the cold wind of early winter.

The air was dry, typical of the North.

He adjusted his collar and followed the flow of people toward the subway station.

The original owner's memories surfaced in her mind little by little, like dredging up old accounts.

Qilin Opera Troupe.

That was the place where the original owner grew up.

It's located in an old alley in the southern part of the city, winding and turning.

Jiang Yichen got off the subway and stood at the entrance of the alley for a long time.

Blue bricks and gray tiles, the bare branches of the old locust tree stretching towards the sky.

He turned left and right based on his memory.

After walking for almost half an hour, we finally saw the mottled vermilion gate at the end of a dead end.

A black plaque with gold lettering hangs above the entrance.

Qilin Opera Troupe.

The gold lettering has lost its paint, and the edges of the wood are somewhat rotten.

Jiang Yichen stepped forward and pushed open the slightly ajar door.

The door hinges made a dry, creaking sound.

Someone was practicing their singing in the courtyard.

The soft, melodious singing echoed through the empty courtyard.

Jiang Yichen had just stepped across the threshold.

A girl in a leotard was stretching her legs with her back to him.

The girl turned her head when she heard the noise.

She had a round face and blinked her big eyes twice.

"Senior brother!"

Meng Lingyu sprang up and flew over like a joyful sparrow.

"Senior brother, you're back! That's great!"

She rushed up to Jiang Yichen and started chattering away.

"You look so handsome on TV!"

"That song, 'The New Drunken Concubine,' gave me goosebumps!"

Looking at the lively junior sister in front of him, Jiang Yichen's memories of the original owner of the body flooded back.

He reached out and ruffled Meng Lingyu's hair.

"Alright, stop flattering me. Where's the eldest brother?"

No sooner had the words been spoken than the curtain of the main room was lifted.

A towering figure emerged with its head bowed.

Tan Yunxiao.

A burly man from Northeast China, standing at 1.9 meters tall, who had trained as a martial artist since childhood. He was all muscle, his arms almost as thick as Jiang Yichen's thighs.

He was wearing a thin black short-sleeved shirt, which was stretched taut by his muscles.

"Third brother!"

Tan Yunxiao strode over and slapped Jiang Yichen on the shoulder with his large palm.

Jiang Yichen was so shocked by the slap that he almost lost his balance.

"Senior Brother, your strength is still as great as ever."

Jiang Yichen rubbed his shoulders and complained.

Tan Yunxiao grinned widely, his teeth practically disappearing from his eyes.

"You're something else! Champion! You've really given our Qilin Opera Club president a lot of credit!"

The commotion in the courtyard drew people out of the other rooms as well.

A dozen or so young people in training clothes surrounded them.

"Hello, Senior Brother Jiang!"

"Third brother, how did you practice those high notes? Teach me!"

"Third Brother, can I get your autograph?"

Everyone was talking at once, their enthusiasm almost overwhelming him.

The news of Jiang Yichen's victory in Shanghai had already spread throughout the entire drama club.

As for his kidnapping, the Bai family acted too quickly. It was trending on social media for a day, but it was immediately suppressed after Jiang Yichen was rescued. Judging from the situation, his fellow disciples who usually practiced diligently didn't even see it.

Jiang Yichen greeted everyone with a smile.

But he keenly sensed something was wrong; the courtyard was too deserted.

When the original owner left the theater troupe to develop her career in Shanghai, there were more than fifty people living in this courtyard.

But right now, there are only about fifteen or sixteen people at most.

Something's not right, something's really not right.

Jiang Yichen's smile faded slightly, and he looked past everyone towards the main house.

"Where is Master?"

The atmosphere in the courtyard changed instantly when Jiang Yichen mentioned his master.

The previously chattering fellow disciples all lowered their heads. Meng Lingyu's eyes reddened, tears welling up. Tan Yunxiao's facial muscles twitched slightly, a flash of grief crossing his eyes.

Jiang Yichen's heart skipped a beat.

"Senior Brother, what's wrong with Master?"

Tan Yunxiao took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly.

"Third brother, our master... passed away last month."

Jiang Yichen stood there, stunned.

In the original owner's memories, her master, Zhou Jingshan, was a sprightly old man.

Every morning, he would stand in the yard with a ruler, and if anyone sang something wrong, he would lash them out without mercy.

How could it... just disappear like that?

"Why didn't anyone notify me?" Jiang Yichen's voice turned cold.

Tan Yunxiao lowered his head in remorse.

"My master gave me these instructions before he left. He said that it wasn't easy for you to work hard outside, and now that you're finally about to make it, it's a crucial time."

"He said he wanted his funeral to be simple and didn't want to inform you, for fear of disturbing your competition."

Jiang Yichen clenched his fists tightly.

Although he was a transmigrator, the emotions left over from the original body completely exploded at this moment, a strong sour feeling rushed to his nose, and his eyes instantly became hot.

He strode past Tan Yunxiao and headed towards the main room.

Inside the main room of the main house.

On the altar in the very center, there is a black and white portrait of Zhou Jingshan.

The old man in the photo is wearing a melon-shaped hat and has a kind smile.

There was an incense burner in front of them, with three burnt incense sticks stuck inside.

Jiang Yichen walked to the offering table, lifted his clothes, and knelt heavily on the blue brick floor.

His knee hit the ground with a dull thud.

He didn't speak, but just stared intently at the old man in the photo.

Then he bent down and pressed his forehead against the cold ground.

He kowtowed three times firmly.

Master, your disciple is back.

Although I have a different soul, I, Jiang Yichen, still acknowledge this kindness.

He muttered to himself.

Tan Yunxiao and Meng Lingyu stood outside the door, watching Jiang Yichen's retreating figure, silently wiping away their tears.

Standing up, Jiang Yichen took out three incense sticks from the incense box next to him and lit them on the candle flame.

Wisps of smoke curled upwards.

He held the incense sticks above his head with both hands, bowed solemnly three times, and then placed them in the incense burner.

After doing all this, he slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, turned around, and walked out of the main room.

My emotions have calmed down.

Tan Yunxiao stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder.

"Third brother, please accept my condolences."

The 1.9-meter-tall man from Northeast China had red eyes.

Jiang Yichen took a deep breath, suppressing the bitterness in his chest. He turned around and looked at the dozen or so fellow disciples in the courtyard who were staring at him expectantly.

"Senior Brother, did Master suffer when he passed away?"

Tan Yunxiao shook his head.

"No, he passed away peacefully in his sleep."

Jiang Yichen nodded.

Tan Yunxiao pulled over a long bench and wiped the dust off it with his sleeve.

"Sit down and talk."

The two sat down in the middle of the courtyard, and Meng Lingyu immediately brought over two cups of hot tea.

"Senior brother, have some tea."

Jiang Yichen took the teacup and held it in his hands.

Tan Yunxiao looked at him, her eyes full of concern.

"Third brother, how long do you plan to stay this time?"

Jiang Yichen blew on the floating tea leaves on the surface of the tea.

"I won't be leaving anytime soon."

The courtyard fell silent instantly upon hearing this. Then, a burst of enthusiastic cheers erupted.

Meng Lingyu jumped up and down with joy.

"Great! Third Senior Brother isn't leaving!"

Tan Yunxiao was so excited that he slapped his thigh repeatedly.

"That's wonderful! You don't know, since Master passed away, this opera troupe has been in my hands."

"Who do you think I am as a troupe leader?"

Tan Yunxiao's face was full of bitterness as he pointed to the empty courtyard.

"I'm good at martial arts and opera, but asking me to manage people and accounts is practically asking for my life."

"Look at this courtyard. When Master was here, there were more than fifty people here, and it was so lively every morning."

"And now?"

"We don't have money to pay wages, everyone needs to eat, and most of them have left!"

Tan Yunxiao felt increasingly guilty as he spoke, his eyes filled with remorse. He suddenly grabbed Jiang Yichen's arm.

"Third brother, you've always been smart since you were little."

"Now he's seen the world and even won that championship."

"You're the one to take the position of troupe leader! If you lead everyone, you'll definitely be able to keep the Qilin Opera Troupe going!"