Yan Huanglou held his breath, nearly cursing aloud. When Chen Changsheng asked him again, Yan Huanglou simply shut his mouth and stayed silent.

Chen Changsheng said, “It’s fine. Everyone has past stories they’d rather not mention. I won’t pry.”

Yan Huanglou retorted, “You make it sound like I’ve done something shameful before.”

“Will you dare say you haven’t?”

“No! I haven’t!”

“People tend to speak lies when their voice gets louder.”

“I’m only upset because you’re annoying!”

“I don’t buy it.”

“Damn it! Where’s your conscience? Bullying a seventy-year-old man like me! Where’s the fairness?”

Chen Changsheng chuckled. “We just started talking. I once knew a chatterbox; I’ll introduce him to you someday.”

Yan Huanglou didn’t reply. He shook his head, thinking this guy must be ill.

No—definitely ill!

No normal person would speak this way.

Chen Changsheng said, “Just joking. I actually wanted to ask about your sworn father.”

“Why ask that?” Yan Huanglou blinked.

“Isn’t curiosity allowed?”

Yan Huanglou gave him a look. “Didn’t I tell you the first time you came?”

“Then, all you mentioned was Prince Yu.”

Chen Changsheng tapped the table, staring into Yan Huanglou’s eyes. “But what I want to hear is about Master Zhulan.”

Yan Huanglou blinked. “Master Zhulan?”

Chen Changsheng watched his eyes closely, seeing only confusion. Yan Huanglou really seemed not to know the name.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Yan Huanglou looked puzzled. “What are you asking? Who is this Master Zhulan?”

Chen Changsheng’s hand rested on the teacup. He watched Yan Huanglou’s eyes a long while.

Yan Huanglou grew uneasy. “Why are you staring?”

Chen Changsheng drew back his gaze, sipped some tea, and set the cup down.

After a brief silence, Chen Changsheng declared:

“I believe you.”

Then he stood and waved dismissively. “I’ll find a place to stay. See you later.”

Yan Huanglou sat silently at the table, watching the Green-Robed Gentleman leave.

He watched him walk away until he vanished.

Shaking his head, Yan Huanglou muttered, “Really strange.”

He began clearing the teacups off the table.

……

After Chen Changsheng left, a figure suddenly darted out from the street corner near the Tea Stall, following him.

Ouyang Feng trailed Chen Changsheng, hiding within crowds and alleyways.

He stayed bent low and never spoke.

Seeing the Green-Robed Gentleman enter an Opera House, he slipped in too.

Inside, melody flowed nonstop as performers sang onstage. Many people stood watching, while those seated near the front sipped tea and enjoyed the show.

The Opera House earned little—mostly from tea sales and tips. But if a generous Master tossed a hefty reward one day, it could support the troupe all year.

Chen Changsheng found a front-row seat.

An attendant approached to serve tea. Chen Changsheng waved it off. “Just some roasted beans.”

“Sure thing.”

The attendant placed a dish of roasted beans before him.

Chen Changsheng watched the performers without blinking, occasionally popping a few beans in his mouth.

Behind him, Ouyang Feng hid, not daring to show himself.

He saw Chen Changsheng slowly eating the beans. Only then did Ouyang Feng remember he hadn’t eaten all day—and he felt hungry.

Lost in thought, he heard the Blue-Robed Man in front of him say quietly:

“If you’re hungry, grab a handful.”

Ouyang Feng froze. Hesitating briefly, he moved forward and sat beside Chen Changsheng in the empty seat.

“You knew I was following you?” he asked, already scooping a big handful of beans.

Chen Changsheng glanced over. Only a few beans remained. “You took them all! What’ll I eat?”

What an impolite fellow.

Ouyang Feng coughed, putting most beans back.

Chen Changsheng grumbled, “Could spot you sneaking all the way back there.”

Ouyang Feng said, “I was watching you. Not once did you turn around.”

Chen Changsheng laughed. “I have eyes behind me, too.”

Ouyang Feng didn’t question further.

He called out, “Senior.”

“Hm.” Chen Changsheng’s reply was casual.

Ouyang Feng hadn’t expected such ease. He coughed twice. “Senior, I need answers. That copper coin you gave me—what was it?”

Not turning, Chen Changsheng said, “What coin?”

“My wounds…”

“Wounds?”

Chen Changsheng scanned him. “You don’t look hurt.”

Ouyang Feng started doubting himself.

He stared at the single coin on his palm. It felt ordinary and plain.

‘Could I have been wrong all along?’

“Senior, that day you said you saved me.”

“Who said I’d save you?” Chen Changsheng widened his eyes. “Don’t misquote me!”

“Huh?” Ouyang Feng frowned. “But… you took my Thumb Ring!”

“What thumb ring?”

“…”

Ouyang Feng opened his hand, showing the coin. “This copper coin—it’s what you traded for my ring.”

Chen Changsheng peered closer. Taking the coin, he mumbled, “Too dim to see clearly.”

Ouyang Feng kept silent.

Chen Changsheng rose. “It’s dark here. Let’s check outside.”

Ouyang Feng followed him out.

Tap.

But once outside—

Only the bustling street greeted Ouyang Feng. A cold wind rustled past.

He stood frozen, looking every direction.

For a moment, he stared blankly.

Gone! Only seconds apart, yet vanished!

Ouyang Feng realized he’d been fooled again.

His mouth hung open until he gritted out the words:

“No way!!”

.

.

Elsewhere on the road—

Chen Changsheng tossed his newly retrieved coin playfully before catching it.

“He was actually nice,” he murmured to himself.

Smiling as he walked, he thought, ‘Lately, I do play so many tricks. Ah—not good.’

‘Chen Changsheng, behave yourself.’

‘Hmm…’

‘It’s all Old Huang’s fault.’