Governing the country, enriching the people, an unparalleled imperial tutor

On the south side of Red Square, there is an enclosed area with signs hanging along the edge of the barbed wire fence. The signs are dark gray with white lettering.

Through the wire fence, you can see that the ground is covered with a layer of neat cement slabs, which are newer and more orderly than the old stone slabs in the square, and there are no weeds at the seams of the edges.

The area wasn't large, but it was directly opposite the side entrance of the Kremlin, as if it had been specifically designated for a particular purpose. Lin Yanzhou stood outside the barbed wire fence for a while. The row of signs had a few lines of Goose writing on them, which translated to "Airport Area, Unauthorized Personnel Prohibited." He looked away, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

Xiaoya walked over from beside the monument and glanced into the barbed wire fence following his gaze: "What's that place?"

"That's the helipad for my idol, Emperor Pu. He usually gets off the plane here and then goes back to his office through the underground passage. That's a real man!"

She nodded, already knowing the answer. She glanced at the sign again, then turned back: "Let's go, it's getting windy." Lin Yanzhou followed her back, and as they neared the plaza exit, he looked back one last time. A small helicopter was parked at the edge of the barbed wire fence, its fuselage dark gray, with a symbol painted on its tail, its exact shape indistinct from a distance. As he looked away, he mentally placed the phrase, "One day I want to be like you," alongside the silhouette of that helicopter.

The evening banquet was held in a small hall of the embassy. The hall was small, with the overhead lights on, providing warm and even lighting.

A dark tablecloth covered the table, along with several sets of cutlery and a glass of water already poured. There were six people in the room: two from the embassy side, one in his forties dressed in dark casual clothes, and the other, a younger man, sitting next to him.

Xiaoya sat next to Lin Yanzhou, a glass of water in front of her. Her posture wasn't stiff; she was adjusting to the space and lighting of the room in her own way.

The dishes were served one by one at the dinner. There were no complicated ceremonies, but the food was more refined than that of a typical Chinese restaurant.

Xiaoya tasted each dish, but didn't speak much during the meal. When the embassy staff asked some questions about her impressions of Moscow, she answered briefly, exchanging details with simple words.

When the third dish was served, Lin Yanzhou noticed someone walking in the corridor outside the side door of the hall. The person's pace was slower than that of the regular staff, as if they paused briefly when passing through the crack in the door before continuing on their way.

The man's silhouette appeared briefly at the edge of the door frame before disappearing again. He was wearing a dark coat and did not linger at the doorway or turn around.

Lin Yanzhou didn't turn around to look, but picked up his water glass and took a sip. The man in his forties from the embassy also raised his glass: "The temperature difference in Moscow is large at night, so I suggest you wear an extra layer if you go out." He put down his glass, his tone casual, "If you need a car, you can contact the embassy anytime. There are staff on duty here, and you can call the duty room directly for emergency calls at night." He didn't elaborate further after saying this.

Lin Yanzhou said, "Okay, I won't stand on ceremony if you need anything."

After the dinner, the cars were already waiting at the embassy entrance. Lin Yanzhou and Xiaoya got into the cars, while the three bodyguards each got into one of the two vehicles. The convoy drove through the streets of Moscow for about twenty minutes before stopping in front of a light-colored marble building. The building's exterior was brighter than the surrounding buildings, the stone facade shimmering under the streetlights. A sign at the entrance read "Bolshoi Theatre" in both Russian and English, its brightness slightly exceeding that of the surrounding streetlights.

After getting off the car, Xiaoya stood at the bottom of the steps and looked up at the pillars and eaves of the theater for a while. After looking for a while, she whispered to Lin Yanzhou, "We're finally here." She stood at the entrance of the theater and looked at the arrangement of the pillars for a while, and then at the decorative patterns on the eaves. The depth of the patterns was shallower than she had imagined, as if they had been worn down after being repaired many times, and the edges had lost their original sharpness.

The lights in the theater lobby were warmer than the streetlights outside. The floor was paved with dark marble, so smooth that it reflected the light. As Xiaoya walked through the lobby, her gaze lingered on the old photos on the wall before moving away, without pausing. The ticket collector glanced at Xiaoya, then at Lin Yanzhou, and without saying a word, stepped aside to make way for her.

Their seats were in the front row of the second tier. After taking her seat, Xiaoya placed her hand on the armrest of the seat in front of her, without applying any pressure, just letting it rest there. The stage curtain was deep red, with decorative lines arranged symmetrically on both sides, as if someone had used the same ruler to measure the distance from left to right, ensuring that the curvature and length of both sides were exactly the same, and then fixed them to the edges of the frame.

As the lights dimmed, the entire theater fell silent for a moment. The curtain rose at a moderate pace, as if someone backstage was controlling the speed of the reel with a fixed rhythm. The stage scenery was more substantial than it appeared in the photographs; it wasn't flat but layered, with appropriate gaps left at the edges of each layer.

Xiaoya sat there, the stage lights reflecting in her eyes like a constantly changing reflective layer, adjusting its shape with the plot and the changing lights.

She didn't look at Lin Yanzhou. Her gaze remained fixed on the stage, as if she were confirming in her own way that every detail of the performance perfectly matched her imagined scene, or that some parts had been overwritten by her own memory, forming a new combination, and she was using the stage lights and music to judge whether that combination needed to be readjusted.

As the show ended, Xiaoya stood up from her seat, not in a hurry to leave. She stood in front of her chair, looking at the curtain that had already been drawn for a while, as if giving a final check on the dimming light, confirming that it had indeed completed its intended trajectory: "Better than I expected."

Lin Yanzhou stood next to her: "Have you seen this before?"

"I've only heard the audio, not seen the video. So when I watched it today, some parts were clearer than I imagined, and some parts were blurrier than I imagined. I long for this place; sometimes I feel like it's my spiritual home."

As they walked out of the theater, the night wind was colder than in the afternoon. Xiaoya pulled her scarf up higher and didn't look back at the theater's facade. Tonight, she had fulfilled a long-cherished wish, and thinking of this, she hugged Lin Yanzhou's arm tightly.

After returning to her hotel room, Xiaoya changed her clothes. Lin Yanzhou stood by the window, looking down from the top floor. The streets near the theater had quieted down, with only a few cars waiting at the traffic lights.

A moment later, Xiaoya, wearing a light-colored nightgown, stood beside him. Lin Yanzhou looked at his lover in the dim light and unconsciously hugged her from behind. "Darling, tonight is the second day of our honeymoon. Let's continue."

"Oh dear, how old are you? You're not a young man anymore, you need to take care of your health..."

"You don't know, I've already cultivated myself into an immortal, even more powerful than this young man! Come on..."