Song Yihuan grew more and more alarmed as she thought about it.
Just then, a gong on the stage struck with a “clang,” and a singing voice came: “Dear guests, thank you all for coming to support me. I bow to you here.”
The singing voice was clear and melodious, with a hint of charm. Immediately, the audience in the hall began to cheer, their expressions turning extremely excited.
“We haven't seen you for a long time, Cui Taizhu! We've missed you so much!”
“Yes, Cui Taizhu. I couldn't even sleep well these days without your shows!”
Cui Ying'er on the stage cast a flirtatious glance around, exuding charm all over. “Good shows are worth waiting for. Here I am! Listen up, dear guests—”
Following the musical accompaniment, Cui Ying'er began to sing in a high - pitched voice.
Song Yihuan was wearing a veiled hat, with a layer of gauze in front of her eyes. Sitting at the back, no one noticed her. She perked up and stared at Cui Ying'er strutting on the stage, observing her every move.
She remembered that last night when “Bai Shao” tried to molest her, he was scratched by Taxue. If Cui Taizhu was really “Bai Shao,” there must be scars on her hands.
The performers on the stage were acting out a play called *The Story of the Noble Lady*. The character played by Cui Ying'er had a slender waist and a charming posture. Every frown and smile was extremely alluring, making many male spectators in the audience feel quite tempted.
The whining and yawing of the opera gradually made Song Yihuan feel irritable. When Cui Ying'er on the stage raised her hand to wave the fan, Song Yihuan took the opportunity to clearly see the backs of the woman's hands. Immediately, she froze on the spot.
How could there be no scars?
Cui Ying'er on the stage generously showed her hands to everyone. However, there were no scars on the backs of her hands, nor any bandages. Apparently, she had never been injured.
Was she wrong?
Song Yihuan frowned tightly.
No, “Bai Shao” was proficient in disguise and could transform a person into another's appearance. It was possible that he used that disguise technique to temporarily cover the scars on his hands!
It was a pity that she didn't have more conclusive evidence to prove that Cui Ying'er was “Bai Shao” for the time being. But as long as she could remain calm, she would surely find “Bai Shao's” flaw!
After the play on the stage was over, Song Yihuan quietly left the teahouse and headed for the Western Market.
She didn't notice that in a grove opposite the stage, Ji Lingchuan was hiding behind a tree. His eyes were also fixed on the actress on the stage, sizing her up carefully.
As soon as Song Yihuan arrived at Youyang Bookstore, Boss Sheng's face beamed with a smile.
“Miss Rou, you're here. Have you copied a few more books? Hurry up and show them to me.”
Song Yihuan took off the burden on her shoulder and placed it on the counter. Seeing that she had copied eight more books in such a short period of time, Boss Sheng sighed, “Miss Rou is really hard - working. I admire your perseverance very much.”
Song Yihuan asked, “Boss Sheng, has anyone bought *A Miscellany of Yangshan* recently? What's the feedback on this book?”
“Of course there are, and quite a few!” Boss Sheng said. “Coincidentally, when I just opened the store this morning, a man came in and bought the last copy of *A Miscellany of Yangshan* on the counter. However, that man had very sharp eyes. He immediately saw that the one on sale wasn't written by the original author. He even asked me who copied the book.”
Song Yihuan's heart sank. She unconsciously tightened the sleeve of her robe.
Could it be him?
“Boss Sheng, what does the man you mentioned look like? Is he... this tall? With broad shoulders, a strong and straight figure, looking cold as if someone owed him silver?”
Boss Sheng nodded vigorously, “Yes, yes, yes. That's him!”
Song Yihuan was a bit at a loss for a moment.
That night in the carriage, when he asked about Xuan'er's birth date, she had already sensed that he was the Mr. Lingji who had corresponded with her back then. But she wasn't sure if he had recognized her.
After all, they had never met each other back then, and she hadn't left him any clues.
“Did Boss Sheng tell him who I am?” she asked tentatively.
Boss Sheng said, “Our bookstore has a rule. We won't disclose the identity of the copyist unless it's absolutely necessary. Miss Rou can rest assured. However, he left a letter for Miss Rou. I'll get it for you right away.”
A letter? He even left her a letter?
Boss Sheng found the letter and handed it to Song Yihuan, saying, “Miss Rou doesn't need to worry. I think that man is just interested in the writer and should have no ill intentions.”
Song Yihuan took the letter and resisted the urge to open it in front of Boss Sheng. After receiving the silver for this batch of copied books, she returned to the Prince Ning's Mansion.
It wasn't until she got back to Tinglan Courtyard and entered her own room, closing the door behind her, that she took out the letter with confidence, unfolded it in front of her, and read it carefully.
The handwriting on the letter was vigorous and powerful, exuding an air of arrogance. However, the content written on it was extremely gentle.
“I'm the humble Mr. Lingji, the author of *A Miscellany of Yangshan*. I've heard that you're the copyist of *A Miscellany of Yangshan*. I read it in the bookstore today and was deeply impressed by your excellent calligraphy. Your writing was so powerful that it was almost indistinguishable from the original. I'd like to make your acquaintance. You don't need to worry. We don't need to meet. Correspondence will suffice. If you're reluctant to reveal anything to me, I understand your concerns. Respectfully yours, Mr. Lingji.”
Looking at the letter in her hand, Song Yihuan felt as if she had returned to the dilapidated temple behind the Imperial College years ago when she received that reply letter.
Tears welled up in her eyes almost immediately and trickled down her cheeks. She sniffed and placed this reply letter that was four years late on the table. Then she picked up a brush, took a blank piece of paper, dipped it in ink, and planned to write a reply to “Mr. Lingji.”
When she was about to put the brush to the paper, she hesitated. Finally, she wrote in running - style regular script, which was completely different from the flowery - style small regular script she used to write.
This was the handwriting that belonged to her, Song Yihuan.
“Dear Mr. Lingji, I'm deeply honored to receive your letter and be recognized by you...”
The candle flame flickered, reflecting in Song Yihuan's eyes. It was as if there was a faint flame hidden in her deer - like eyes, illuminating a corner of the darkness.
This reply letter written by Song Yihuan filled three pages. In the letter, she never mentioned how she had met Mr. Lingji at the Imperial College. She only expressed her admiration for Mr. Lingji and her interest in the sixteen border cities.
However, she hesitated when it came to signing her name.
Back then when they first met, neither of them knew the other's identity. Now that she knew Ji Lingchuan was Mr. Lingji, should she tell him who she was?
After thinking for a while, she finally solemnly wrote “Respectfully yours, Rou Huan” at the end.
There were no longer any items related to Mr. Lingji around her. Now that the handwriting on the letter was also different, she might as well consider this as a new acquaintance with Mr. Lingji.
After the ink had dried, she carefully put the letter into an envelope and placed it under her pillow. She slept a rare good sleep with the letter under her head.