171: Chapter 89 Watching the Play_3 171: Chapter 89 Watching the Play_3 Others might, but Miss Jiang the Second definitely wouldn’t.
If she were to do something different because of this play, it could only mean that the play touched her, resonating with something from her past life.
That’s what empathy is.
Jih Heng’s fingers brushed over the clean white handle of the fan as he suddenly stood up, his gaze towards Jiang Li was tinged with interest as he slowly approached her.
“He…” Kong Liu started to speak but was yanked down by Lu Jiu, who gestured ‘shush’ to him and said, “Just watch the play.”
Xiao Jiuer was still singing: “My husband went to Yanjing to seek a prince consort, I was left in the palace, holding a pipa
I resent that he became wealthy and forgot our bond, he…
he abandoned his betrothed
I am his betrothed wife, remember the year he went to the examination hall
He said whether or not he succeeds, he would return to his hometown
But there was a drought in Huguang, and the poor families starved to death
My parents-in-law died of hunger in the thatched cottage, with no silver coin to bury them
I cut tufts of my hair, exchanged it for two mats in the streets
Neighbors all around spoke of my husband becoming the Top Scholar
With my son and daughter, I went to see him, begging door to door all the way to Bianliang
I barged into the palace courtyard, he kicked me with one foot
I fell beside the palace gate….”
A betrothed wife…
Jiang Li thought, in a daze, that it was indeed a tender term, much like Shen Yurong’s gentleness towards her.
On such a Mid-Autumn night, she had experienced many joyous and fulfilling ones.
Who would have known that there would come a day when memories of the past felt like knives to the gut, bone-deep and unbearable?
She could hardly distinguish whether this was just a play about the case of Jiuer or her own reality.
She seemed to have become Jiuer, yet even more tragic than Jiuer herself.
At that moment, a silk handkerchief was unexpectedly offered to her.
Pure white, without any embroidery, the silk was smooth and emitted a subtle shimmer under the lights, obviously very light and soft.
“Wipe your tears,” Jih Heng said, still composed as he added, “Second Miss with tears in your eyes really doesn’t look good.”
Jiang Li didn’t take offense at his not-so-kind words, hurriedly reaching to touch her own cheeks, only to find them wet.
She didn’t even realize when she had started crying.
She had actually cried.
Instinctively, Jiang Li reached out for Jih Heng’s handkerchief, but in the next moment, she collected herself and smiled, “Thank you, Duke, but I have my own.” She pulled out a light green handkerchief from her bosom, and although it wasn’t as luxurious as Jih Heng’s, it was elegantly plain.
She dabbed away her tears by herself.
Her actions were as natural as if she were brushing away dust.
However, her unintentionally raised smile, accompanied by the tears at the corners of her eyes, was indescribably strange.
Jih Heng paused, then noncommittally withdrew his handkerchief and said to Jiang Li, “I never thought someone as heartless as Miss Jiang the Second could cry.
It makes me wonder if you’re quite the theater enthusiast.”
“If the play is captivating, I’ll watch.
If not, I won’t,” Jiang Li also smiled, “Everyone says that Golden Mansion is the best troupe in Yanjing City.
Today, I’ve seen for myself.
Little Peach Red’s singing really moves people.”
“What moves people is not Little Peach Red’s singing, but the play itself,” Jih Heng said, “Just now, Miss Jiang the Second was really into the play.”
“Me?” Jiang Li looked at him in surprise, laughing, “I’m not part of the play, how could I get caught up in it?
You must be joking, Duke.”
“Second Miss is quite skilled at acting, but not so good at lying,” Jih Heng said with a smile tinged with a sigh, “Your lies are truly clumsy.”
Jiang Li’s brow furrowed slightly, about to speak, when Jih Heng unexpectedly cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
Such a posture was exceedingly frivolous, and Kong Liu nearly exclaimed in shock, but Lu Jiu quickly covered his mouth.
In her heart, Jiang Li was taken aback and for a moment, she didn’t know whether to feel shame or surprise, so she just stared at Jih Heng.
Having seen Jih Heng up close several times, no matter how many times she looked at him, each time was as stunning as the first.
His pale red robe hung loosely, but the peony embroidery on his collar was meticulous and tidy, his distinctive beauty standing out even more amidst the sorrowful singing.
He was like a red lotus blooming in the dead of winter, a hot brilliance that dazzled the eyes.
He was also like a bright, chilling moon reflected in the depths of an abyss, a beauty that sent shivers down one’s spine.
His eyes were a light amber color, crystal clear, yet his eye shape naturally deep, as if outlined naturally with eyeliner, captivating as a painting.
His nose bridge was so handsomely shaped it was unbelievable, his lips thin and red, and even his disdainful smirk made one want to throw caution to the wind and seek a kiss.