Chapter 36 – The Silver-Seeking Rhyme
“The White Ape Presents Longevity” became an instant hit!
It was first performed for three days straight at the Bai residence, and afterward several other families invited them for private shows. Since the audience grew too large, they eventually rented out the Qinghe County Theater for nine consecutive performances.
But when it came time for the tenth show, Shang Yulou refused to continue.
When Xie Jing received the news, he went to the theater. The official statement was that “Boss Shang had lost his voice and needed two days’ rest.” In truth, Shang Yulou was sitting in the dressing room with a cold expression, fanning himself irritably while the members of the Yucheng Troupe stood around in awkward silence, not daring to say a word.
Xie Jing approached him politely. “Boss Shang, how’s your throat? I brought some pear syrup—it’s good for soothing and nourishing the lungs. I added a bit of monk fruit too. Please try it, and if it works, I’ll bring you more.”
Shang Yulou snorted. “I can’t afford it.”
Hearing the edge in his tone, Xie Jing stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak.
A few of the troupe members who could read the mood quickly shooed everyone else out, even closing the door behind them. Their boss might scold people, but that didn’t mean they wanted to stand there and listen—especially when the visitor was from the Bai family!
Shang Yulou was fuming. He deliberately made Xie Jing wait a while before finally speaking, partly because he still couldn’t resist that handsome face. “Manager Xie—”
“Just call me Little Xie.”
“Fine, Little Xie,” Shang Yulou took a deep breath and let his dissatisfaction pour out.
“I cooperated with everything from the start, followed your Bai family’s arrangements—but this, this is going too far! You never said before the curtain rose that there’d be that! Out of nowhere, silk streamers flying, a ‘Golden Monkey Bringing Auspiciousness’—sure, it worked out this time, but what if it hadn’t? You could’ve ruined the Yucheng Troupe’s reputation! I know it’s not directly your fault—you’re just the messenger—but bring me the one responsible. I’ll settle this face-to-face!”
Xie Jing blinked. “Who?”
Shang Yulou slapped his paper fan on the table with a sharp crack, turning his head with a cold laugh. “I know there’s some master behind the scenes pulling strings! Whoever they are, they’re ruthless enough! What—did you bring me all the way from the provincial capital just to play backup to your troupe of trained monkeys?!”
Xie Jing rubbed his nose awkwardly. He really couldn’t hand anyone over.
Choosing his words carefully, he said, “Boss Shang, you’re overthinking it. There’s no mysterious master.”
Shang Yulou was not one to back down, especially when it came to theater. Before Xie Jing could continue, he cut him off sharply, “Don’t bother with polite talk. I asked around—you don’t know opera! Bring out the one who does. I want to know what his intentions are!”
Xie Jing answered calmly, “Their old troupe leader passed away. The ‘Golden Monkey’ sequence was my idea. I asked a friend to help design the movements. It took a month to complete. If you don’t believe me, I can bring him to you.”
Shang Yulou was stunned. He stared at Xie Jing for a long time. “You… staged it yourself?”
Xie Jing nodded. “I’ve had hard times before—begged on the streets for two years. What I used were just acrobatic tricks from street performances, mixed with monkey play. It was only to show something novel to the audience. Crude and unrefined—please forgive me for embarrassing you.”
Hearing this, Shang Yulou believed him somewhat. Though modern drama was trendy these days, no one had ever tried fusing it with Beijing opera. It did feel like something an amateur might do. Still, he grumbled, “And it didn’t occur to you you might ruin the show?”
Xie Jing smiled. “It was the Bai family’s birthday banquet. Even if the children hadn’t succeeded, they were said to be Second Young Master’s protégés. With the Bai family’s standing in Qinghe, no one would spread rumors.”
Shang Yulou snorted into his tea. “Sure, those little brats have luck on their side. There’s always someone to cover for them. I could never be so fortunate.”
Xie Jing shook his head. “Boss Shang, I’m not here to apologize today—I’ve come to deliver something to you.”
“Oh? What?”
“The eleven children who performed ‘The White Ape Presents Longevity’—they’re all yours now.”
Shang Yulou frowned. “Are you joking? Aren’t they under the Bai family’s Second Young Master?”
“He only took them in for a month. I haven’t had the chance to tell you the full story.”
Xie Jing then explained the whole incident—the fire at the ruined temple, the death of their old leader Cheng, and how the Bai family temporarily sheltered the orphans.
By the end, Shang Yulou’s expression had grown grave.
Xie Jing said earnestly, “This was a major case in Qinghe. If you doubt me, ask anyone outside. I wouldn’t dare lie to you. Lord Bai Jiu and Second Young Master are kind-hearted, but they’ve been trained in opera since childhood—they know nothing else. I could only help them in this small way, which is why I staged that scene on your stage.”
He bowed deeply. “Boss Shang, I owe you an apology for what I did before.”
At first, Shang Yulou had felt a bit regretful, but after hearing this, he actually chuckled. “So you’d had your eye on me from the start—scheming to make me take them in, eh?”
Xie Jing smiled faintly. “The children are still young. If you wouldn’t take them, I’d have to find them another way out.”
Even if Shang Yulou refused, the performance of ‘Golden Monkey Brings Blessing’ would still have tied the children to his name—and to the Bai family’s good fortune—perhaps opening future opportunities for them.
Laying everything bare like this, Shang Yulou’s anger cooled.
“No one’s born lucky,” he sighed. “We’ve all suffered in life. Since you’re so straightforward, I’ll also apologize. I didn’t know those kids had been through so much.”
Xie Jing stood quietly, waiting for his response.
Shang Yulou asked, “Was this Lord Bai Jiu’s idea, or Second Young Master’s?”
“Lord Bai Jiu’s,” Xie Jing said. “He asked me to find them a good home.”
After a pause, Shang Yulou set his teacup down. “Very well. Since Lord Bai Jiu himself said so, I’ll take them in. But the Yucheng Troupe isn’t a place for leisure. I have two conditions: First, we put it in writing that from now on, they have nothing to do with the Bai family—so I can teach them without worry. Second, you must promise me one thing.”
“Please, go ahead,” said Xie Jing. “If it’s within my power, I’ll do it.”
Shang Yulou had long admired Xie Jing’s voice and bearing, but he feared scaring him off, so he said vaguely, “I haven’t decided what I’ll ask yet. Just write it down now. Don’t worry—I won’t make you do anything improper. It’ll have nothing to do with the Bai family, just a favor between us privately.”
After a moment’s thought, Xie Jing agreed.
Being a straightforward man, Shang Yulou immediately had someone bring paper and brush, drafted a contract reading: “Voluntarily joining Yucheng Troupe to study for seven years; all earnings during this period belong to the master for instruction and use,” etc.
He showed it to Xie Jing. “These children already have some foundation, though not solid. Considering the auspicious success of their ‘Golden Monkey’ act, I’ll reduce the term by three years—only seven in total. If that’s agreeable, have them come sign and make their handprints.”
Xie Jing thanked him and called the children in to press their handprints on the contract.
The children, realizing they would now study under a famous master, had eyes full of hope and excitement.
When they finished, Xie Jing said to them, “Go now. From today, you’ll follow Master Shang. Learn diligently and do not slack off.”
Little Tang, standing in front, took the lead and kowtowed to Xie Jing. The others followed suit before he could even stop them. He never allowed such gestures—only bows—but they felt mere bows weren’t enough. Their hearts were burning with gratitude and relief—they had found a future. Kowtowing was the only way they knew to show it.
Shang Yulou laughed. “These little monkeys are quite sensible, aren’t they?”
Xie Jing chuckled too and said, “Boss Shang, did you know they have a nickname in the Bai household?”
“Oh? What is it?”
“‘Five Blessings and Six Smooths’—because the eleven of them always seem to escape disaster and bring luck to those around them, especially after the last performance of ‘White Ape Presents Longevity.’ You must’ve noticed yourself.”
Shang Yulou’s eyes brightened.
Xie Jing thought, Got him.
Shang Yulou, the star actor from the provincial capital, had two lifelong quirks—he was petty beyond belief and obsessed with luck.
Not that he worshiped anything, but he loved reading candle wax omens, copying blessing charms, keeping feng shui fish in his troupe, and performing small rituals daily. Before traveling for work, he’d even have someone divine the best hour to depart—business was business, but luck came first.
Leaving Shang Yulou happily musing over the “Five Blessings, Six Smooths” omen, Xie Jing returned to the East Courtyard.
In the East Courtyard, Huang Mingyou was showing Lord Bai Jiu the little stone tiger, gesturing animatedly. When he saw Xie Jing enter, he waved him over. “Perfect timing, Little Xie! Come, come. I finally discovered this stone tiger’s origin! Look here—doesn’t this pattern resemble a constellation?”
Xie Jing took the tiger, examined the rough stone in his palm, and followed the professor’s finger to a pattern he would’ve mistaken for wear marks. “Sir, what is this?”
“I believe it’s a star map—or half of one. This tiger likely has a matching pair. Together, they’d reveal the full pattern.” Professor Huang traced the engraved dots, naming constellations, though Xie Jing didn’t understand a word.
Bai Rongjiu explained, “The teacher means these are Western constellations. The direction they point to should be Rongcheng.”
“Rongcheng?” Xie Jing echoed.
Professor Huang laughed delightedly. “Yes, Rongcheng! I knew this stone tiger looked familiar—it’s from that legend!”
He stroked his thin mustache and recited, “Stone dragon meets stone tiger, gold and silver five times richer. He who breaks the riddle’s yoke shall buy the Rongcheng manor whole.”
Xie Jing blinked. “Sir, what’s that?”
“It’s the Silver-Seeking Rhyme!” Professor Huang said, eyes gleaming. “It’s a nursery rhyme passed down in Pengshan for centuries, about Zhang Xianzhong’s lost treasure. When Zhang invaded Sichuan, he looted countless riches. During the Battle of Jiangkou, his army collapsed, and while he escaped with a few men to Rongcheng, the ships laden with gold and silver sank in the river. Some say he deliberately hid the treasure—casting silver ingots into the riverbed. Whoever solves the riddle of the stone dragon and stone tiger can claim the treasure. If not for that opera performed at the birthday banquet, I wouldn’t have remembered it! How fitting—it was a play about Western Sichuan! Zhang Xianzhong once even renamed Rongcheng as the Western Capital—how fateful!”
Xie Jing looked at the ugly little stone tiger in his hand, skeptical. “Sir, are you saying this star pattern is… a treasure map?”
That seemed too ridiculous.
Professor Huang chuckled. “The Min River does have treasure—that’s a fact. The Pengshan Gazetteer records that in the 59th year of Qianlong’s reign, a fisherman found a jeweled scabbard and reported it officially. But for two hundred years, countless people have searched for Zhang Xianzhong’s silver. There are many supposed maps, but no one’s ever succeeded.”
Taking a satisfied sip of tea, he added, “Don’t you go chasing treasure too, Little Xie. I’m telling you—the Min River is wild and deep. Unless you command heavenly soldiers to part the waters and dredge the mud, you’ll find nothing. Two hundred years of silt! Only a fool would try.”
Xie Jing smiled. “Don’t worry, sir. I won’t.”
He already had all the treasure he wanted—serving at Lord Bai Jiu’s side was more than enough.
Lord Bai Jiu beckoned him closer, “Jing’er, do you still have family in Rongcheng? Perhaps an elder might’ve left this to you.”
After thinking for a while, Xie Jing shook his head, “I don’t know. Grandmother never said.”
“Would you like to find out?” Lord Bai Jiu asked gently.
He shook his head again.
Granny Kou had told him—he had no family left. Since no one missed him, there was no point in searching the past.
Lord Bai Jiu slipped off a string of red coral beads from his wrist and looped it around Xie Jing’s slender wrist, then tousled his hair. “Take it. You handled those children well. This is your reward.”
The bracelet wound around his wrist three or four times, still loose. Professor Huang’s eyes gleamed with envy, “Little Xie, that’s too big for you! Let me shorten it—just remove a few beads, and it’ll fit perfectly!”
Xie Jing quickly pulled his sleeve down to hide it, not even letting him look, and darted off to make tea.
Professor Huang huffed, “You little miser! I only wanted one or two coral beads… Fine! But if you ever go treasure hunting in the Min River, don’t come asking me to interpret that star map!”
Xie Jing pretended not to hear, running faster.
The coral beads clinked softly at his wrist, their sound crisp and sweet. His heart felt lighter, his eyes curving into a quiet smile.
Forget the treasure in the Min River—he already had a little box full of real treasures, all gifts from Lord Bai Jiu. No map could ever match that.
