Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

This slightly exaggerated metaphor amused Genjiro, who reached out and flicked Sakurai Kogure's nose: "Kogure has learned to tease me now."

"It's the truth." Sakurai Kogure held his hand and pressed it against her cheek. "To hear you sing a play just for me, Kogure has no regrets in this life."

Chapter 241 Invitation to the Banquet

Genji allowed Sakurai Kogure to help him remove his heavy headdress and change back into casual clothes, but the makeup on his face was still on, leaving a breathtakingly beautiful afterglow. He thought for a moment, then took out two bright red invitations from his stage trunk and wrote the time and place in neat and beautiful calligraphy: "Seven o'clock tonight, on this stage, the complete version of 'The Drunken Beauty'."

"Kogure, could you please make this trip?" He handed the invitation to Sakurai Kogure, his eyes gentle. "Deliver it to Mr. Lu Mingfei, who is staying at the inn, and to Miss Frilian. Tell them that Genji sincerely invites them and hopes they will attend."

"Yes, Lady Sakurai," Kogure Sakurai said respectfully as she accepted the invitation, as if it were an important mission. She carefully placed the invitation into a brocade bag, bowed slightly, and left the courtyard.

The inn, though its exterior appeared old and rustic, was actually a rather comfortable guesthouse inside. Lu Mingfei was sprawled on a recliner in the courtyard, scratching his head at the game interface on his laptop screen. Beside him, the elven mage Frilian sat quietly on a stone bench, engrossed in a massive book about this world, thicker than a brick.

Sunlight filters through the grape trellis, casting dappled shadows, making time seem to slow down here.

Sakurai Kogure appeared at the inn's entrance, wearing an elegant lotus-root-colored dress, her movements exuding a well-trained respect and presence. She recognized Lu Mingfei and Frilian.

She walked slowly forward, stopped three steps away, bowed slightly, held the brocade bag in both hands, and said in a clear and gentle voice: "Mr. Lu, Miss Frilian, I apologize for disturbing you."

Lu Mingfei was startled by the sudden, almost ceremonial greeting, nearly falling off his recliner. He hurriedly closed his laptop and sat up straight: "Ah? It's nothing, no problem. May I ask who you are?"

Frillie slowly raised her head from the pages of the book, her clear eyes looking at Kogure.

"I am Sakurai Kogure, and I have come on behalf of Lady Minamoto no Chigure to deliver your invitations." Sakurai Kogure gently placed the brocade pouch on the stone table between them, then took out the two large red invitations and presented them with both hands. "Lady Chigure will be performing the play 'The Drunken Concubine' tonight at seven o'clock at the 'Xiefangyuan' stage in the east of town. Lady Chigure cordially invites you both to attend."

Her attitude was almost excessively respectful, as if she were addressing not two travelers who had met by chance, but some important figure. This made Lu Mingfei feel somewhat uneasy, yet also flattered.

He took the invitation, opened it, and saw beautiful calligraphy inside; the content was unusually formal. "Yuan Zhinü, oh! It's that exceptionally handsome, and very gentle-speaking Mr. Yuan!"

Lu Mingfei remembered that he had met her a few days ago while strolling around town. She was the younger brother of Genji, a big star in the Japanese branch. He didn't expect that Genji was also a theatrical actress.

"The Drunken Beauty? Mr. Yuan sings Peking Opera?" Lu Mingfei was a little curious, but he also felt that the man's temperament must be very good, and he must look very beautiful when dressed up.

“Yes,” Sakurai Kogure said, a faint sense of pride appearing on her face. “Lord Chijo has been preparing for this for a long time. This afternoon, he just had a makeup and singing test, and he was in excellent condition. There will only be a few close friends present; it will be a small, private performance.”

Lu Mingfei glanced at the invitation, then at Frillie, who remained expressionless beside him, and pondered to himself. He had nothing to do that evening anyway, so going to see what was going on sounded good, especially since they'd come with such a formal invitation.

“Okay!” Lu Mingfei readily agreed. “Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Yuan. We will definitely be there on time tonight!”

Upon hearing this, Sakurai Kogure smiled sincerely and bowed deeply again: "Thank you both so much for coming. I'm sure Lady Chizuru will be very happy to hear this. Well then, I won't bother you any longer. I look forward to seeing you both again tonight."

After she finished speaking, she maintained a respectful posture, slowly took a few steps back, and then turned and left, her steps light, as if afraid of disturbing the tranquility of the place.

Once Xiaomu had walked away, Lu Mingfei finally breathed a long sigh of relief and waved the invitation in his hand to Frilian: "Frilian, want to go to the theater tonight? It sounds interesting."

Frillie finally looked up from her book and onto the invitation. "Okay, it's up to you."

Lu Mingfei shrugged, slumped back into the recliner, and felt a surge of anticipation for the evening's performance.

What would it be like if Genjiro, who looks like she stepped out of an ancient painting, wore a theatrical costume and sang the role of a noble consort? And what kind of story exists between Sakurai Kogure, who is as respectful as a maid?

Sakurai Kogure returned to the garden on the bluestone slabs bathed in the setting sun. Genji had removed her heavy makeup, leaving only a faint blush on the corners of her eyes and brows, like rouge accidentally spreading on rice paper, adding a touch of lushness to his handsome profile.

He stood by the window, his fingertips gently stroking the slender leaves of a pot of orchids on the windowsill. The evening breeze ruffled his plain clothes, his posture relaxed, yet he seemed to be waiting for something.

Hearing footsteps, he turned around, his gaze flowing over like mercury, silently enveloping Xiao Mu.

“My lady,” Sakurai Kogure walked up to him, tilted her head slightly, and smiled gently in her eyes, “Mr. Lu and Miss Frilian have gladly accepted our appointment for this evening.”

"Lu Jun agreed, that's great."

Genji reached out, not to touch Sakurai Kogure directly, but to gently pluck a strand of hair from her temple that had been ruffled by the wind, her touch as delicate as brushing away a dewdrop from a flower petal. This careful, tender care spoke louder than a thousand words.

Sakurai Kogure felt the faint warmth of his fingertips, her cheeks flushed, and her heart trembled as if touched by those gentle fingers. She lowered her eyelashes, her voice becoming even softer: "Mr. Lu is very much looking forward to it and says he will definitely come on time."

"It's because Kogure delivered the invitation so well," Genji leaned forward slightly, her breath brushing against her ear with the elegance of orchids. "You always manage to handle my affairs so perfectly."

His praise warmed Sakurai Kogure's heart, like drinking warm honey. She looked up and bravely met his gaze, which was so close to hers. His eyes were deep, reflecting the deepening twilight outside the window and her small figure.

"It is Xiaomu's blessing to be able to go to such lengths for you."

Yuan Zhinü said nothing more, but simply took her hand and led her to the dressing table. The bronze mirror vaguely reflected their figures leaning against each other. He picked up the paintbrush on the table that she had just used to draw his eyebrows, dipped the tip in a little water, and, using the remaining, undried ink in the inkstone, very lightly and slowly, drew a tiny, five-petaled plum blossom-shaped flower on Xiao Mu's brow.

The pen tip was cool, but his breath was warm. Sakurai Kogure held her breath, feeling the subtle touch, as if her soul was being outlined and painted by him.

“Let this be a record,” he put down his pen, his fingertips gently tracing the ink-painted plum blossom, his eyes lingering like silkworms spinning silk, “Tonight on the stage, with every glance, in the dim light below, I can instantly find you, this unique ‘plum blossom moon’.”

As dusk settled, the room remained unlit, bathed in a dim, ambiguous light. The two figures in the mirror blurred into a hazy, warm glow.

Chapter 242 Nighttime Entertainment (Part 1)

Night fell as dark as ink, quietly bathing the "Oriental Movie Metropolis." The hustle and bustle of the day faded away, and the various antique-style buildings, illuminated by carefully arranged lanterns and ground lights, revealed a serene and dreamlike silhouette, completely different from their daytime appearance. The bluestone pavement reflected a warm light, and footsteps echoed in the empty alleyways.

Following the address on the invitation, Lu Mingfei and Frilian found the courtyard called "Xiefang Garden". Unlike its quietness during the day, the courtyard gate was ajar, and two exquisite palace lanterns under the eaves emitted a warm yellow glow, as if silently welcoming their distinguished guests.

"Looks like this is the place." Lu Mingfei took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy wooden door.

The courtyard suddenly opened up. The small stage was brightly lit, and in the open space in front of it, only five or six square tables covered with red tablecloths were sparsely placed, with tea, melon seeds, and a few exquisite Suzhou-style pastries on them. There were indeed few spectators; besides them, there were only two other tables of people who looked distinguished, like Yuan Zhinü's true friends who knew opera, and they were talking in hushed tones.

Sakurai Kogure was already waiting at the door. Upon seeing them, she immediately came to greet them. She had changed into a light purple, modernized cheongsam, which accentuated her slender figure and gentle demeanor. Smiling, she bowed and led the way, guiding them to the table at the very front, where the view was best.

"Mr. Lu, Ms. Frillie, please take a seat. The performance is about to begin," Sakurai Kogure said respectfully.

Lu Mingfei thanked her and sat down with Frillie. He looked around and found the atmosphere completely different from the bustling, noisy theater he had imagined. It was quiet, almost solemn, like a small classical music concert.

He couldn't help but sit up a little straighter, afraid that he might accidentally make some unrefined noise and ruin the elegant atmosphere.

Frillie was more interested in the pastries on the table. She picked up a lotus-shaped pastry, carefully examined its delicate shape, and then took a small bite.

Since we're already here, let's eat something to fill our stomachs first.

With a "snap," the lights on both sides of the stage brightened up a bit more. The previously faint conversations completely disappeared, and everyone's eyes were focused on the crimson curtain on the stage.

Without prior notice or a master of ceremonies, only the distant and clear sound of clappers could be heard, like a pebble thrown into a tranquil lake.

The curtain slowly opened.

The stage backdrop was a soft curtain painted with pavilions and towers, and the tables and chairs were draped with embroidered robes. The first to appear was not Yuan Zhinu, but several extras playing palace maids. They stepped out and stood still. Immediately, a melodious and graceful prelude on the erhu (a two-stringed bowed instrument) began, setting the stage for the palace's grandeur and a sense of anticipation.

Then, he came out.

With just a few steps, from the side of the stage to the front, Lu Mingfei felt his breath catch in his throat.

The elegant and gentle Yuan Zhinu of the afternoon had vanished; on the stage stood the truly "naturally beautiful Yang Yuhuan." Adorned with a phoenix coronet and embroidered robes, surrounded by pearls and jade, her bright yellow python robe shimmered under the lights, the embroidered phoenixes and peonies seeming ready to take flight. Her makeup was even more perfect and exquisite than during the afternoon's trial; her eyes were expressive, her face radiant, and especially her luscious red lips.

Before he even started singing, just a glance, a single appearance, his entire demeanor, his noble yet slightly languid air, his expectant yet subtly melancholic charm, had already captivated the hearts of everyone in the audience.

"The moon, like an ice wheel, begins to turn and rise over the island..."

He began to sing. His voice was different from when he sang a cappella that afternoon. With the slight amplification and reverberation of the sound equipment, his voice became more mellow, rich, and penetrating. Every word was enunciated clearly, carrying a unique charm, and the ending notes were handled with a lingering and poignant quality, going straight to the heart.

Lu Mingfei's knowledge of Peking Opera was limited to what he had heard of; he was a complete novice when it came to things like Xipi and Erhuang operas, singing, recitation, acting, and acrobatics. But at this moment, he realized that he didn't need to understand those professional intricacies at all. Beauty, in itself, is a language that needs no translation.

Looking at the stunningly beautiful Yang Guifei on the stage, he found it hard to reconcile her with the image of Yuan Zhinu, the gentle and shy girl who had invited him for tea in his memory. This was not merely a change in appearance, but a complete transformation of her temperament.

The soul of the thousand-year-old imperial concubine came to life on this stage, through the body of Yuan Zhinu.

Holy crap, is that really Genjiro? This is just too amazing! Lu Mingfei was filled with nothing but simple amazement.

He felt like a country bumpkin who had wandered into a fairyland. He used to think that beating a game was impressive, but compared to this person, he was simply, utterly incomparable! How much effort must they have put in? How much passion must they have had? And, he was clearly a man, so how could he imitate a woman's mannerisms and expressions so perfectly, so beautifully? So beautiful that it made him feel a little envious, unsure whether it was envy or something else.

Frillie stopped eating her snack, sat up straight, and watched the stage with great interest. Her long life as an elf had exposed her to countless art forms, but this way of expressing characters and stories through singing and costumes was quite novel to her.

"I see the Jade Rabbit, the Jade Rabbit has risen in the east again..."

Yuan Zhinu gracefully swayed her flowing sleeves, her figure elegant, her gaze fixed on the void, as if she truly saw the bright, clear moon. The longing in her eyes was pure and moving.

The play continues. Yang Yuhuan hosts a banquet at the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, intending to drink with Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, but the emperor's arrival is delayed. A member of the cast, playing Gao Lishi, arrives to report that His Majesty has moved to the West Palace to accompany Consort Mei.

Upon hearing the news, the instantaneous change in the expression of Yang Guifei, played by Yuan Zhinu, was exquisite. From initial shock to disbelief, then to the heartbreak and loss of betrayal, it finally transformed into a forced composure tinged with bitter self-mockery. She made no dramatic movement, merely taking a slight step back, her flowing sleeves drooping, her entire aura shifting abruptly from bright and noble to dim and lonely.

"This is what they mean by 'wine easily intoxicates a sorrowful heart'..."

He raised his glass, his singing carrying a hint of intoxication, the melancholy deepening. It was no longer simple waiting, but a complex mix of jealousy, resentment, and helplessness.

As Lu Mingfei watched, for some reason, his initial schadenfreude faded, replaced by a sense of resonance. He thought of himself. Although he wasn't waiting for the emperor, hadn't he also experienced that feeling of high expectations followed by disappointment? In high school, those birthdays with no one to acknowledge them, those moments when messages went unanswered, that feeling of being forgotten by the whole world…

Although the degrees of disappointment differ greatly, the feeling of loss seems to be the same.

So even imperial concubines experience this. I thought becoming an imperial concubine meant getting whatever one wanted, but it turns out they still get stood up and feel sad. Thinking about it this way, those high and mighty figures don't seem so unattainable after all.

How did Yuan Zhinü come to understand this feeling and act it out so realistically? Did he have a similar experience?

Chapter 243 Nighttime Entertainment (Part 2)

The most captivating part of "The Drunken Beauty" is Yang Guifei's gradual display of intoxication after she tries to drown her sorrows in wine. Yuan Zhinu portrays this process with distinct layers and remarkable depth.

At first, he was slightly tipsy, his eyes were glazed, and his steps were a little unsteady. His singing voice was tinged with a hint of coquettishness and reproach. He joked with the eunuchs and palace maids, ordered Pei Lishi to "take off his python robe", and asked Gao Lishi to "serve him a cup". His demeanor was both that of a noble concubine and that of indulgence and desolation after drinking.

As the wine flowed more freely, his intoxication deepened. He began to perform a series of difficult movements—"Lying like a fish smelling flowers" and "Bending backwards with a cup in his mouth." The "Bending backwards with a cup in his mouth" was particularly impressive. With a wine cup in her mouth, she slowly bent backwards, almost parallel to the ground, her figure incredibly graceful, yet her posture exuding a self-admiring, fragile allure. The entire movement was fluid and steady, displaying an extremely profound skill.

"Okay!"

"Impressive! Change to a larger cup!"

A suppressed, low murmur of applause rose from the audience. A few knowledgeable spectators couldn't help but applaud softly.

Lu Mingfei was dumbfounded. Holy crap, that core strength, that balance! If he were to train in gymnastics or street dance, he'd definitely be a master. Is Peking Opera really that difficult? This isn't just about singing well; it's a combination of acrobatics and art!

Frillie tilted her head slightly and whispered to Lu Mingfei, "His body control is outstanding; he can maintain core stability while performing those difficult moves."

Lu Mingfei coughed lightly and replied in a low voice, "Ah, yes, yes, very impressive."

He added in his mind: It's not just amazing, it's downright monstrous!

If he had that core strength, he would already be training in the national team.

After the ultimate clamor and allure, comes a deeper loneliness. Upon sobering up, or perhaps from the depths of her intoxication, Yang Yuhuan's emotions settle once more. Her final aria, mournful and lingering, is filled with self-pity and reminiscence of past love.

"Life is like a spring dream, so let's enjoy a few drinks while we can..."

This final act of joy sounded more like a helpless self-consolation, tinged with endless desolation. Yuan Zhinu's eyes stared blankly into the distance, as if piercing through the curtains of the stage and seeing her own unknowable fate. At that moment, she was not merely Yang Guifei, but a symbol of all that is unattainable and fleetingly beautiful.

The music faded. Supported by her maids, Yuan Zhinu slowly walked backstage. The curtain fell.

The performance has ended.

A moment of silence fell over the room, followed by a burst of sincere and enthusiastic applause from the audience. Lu Mingfei, as if waking from a dream, clapped vigorously until his palms were red. His emotions were complex: awe, admiration, empathy, and an inexplicable sense of loss.

Beautiful, so beautiful! Can a man be this beautiful?

Frillie clapped her hands lightly a few times, as if to follow local customs, and commented, "Yuan Zhinü has become one with the character Yang Guifei; you are in me and I am in you."