Yuan Qingzhi had overslept again.

By the time she woke up, the sky was already brightening. A few sparrows were chirping on the windowsill, holding some kind of team-building exercise, disturbing her peaceful dreams.

“I’m screwed!”

She groggily glanced at the string of missed calls on her phone. Unlike other days when she’d just stuff it back under the pillow and go back to sleep, today she shot out of bed in panic, brushed her teeth and washed her face in five minutes, threw on clothes at light speed, and rushed out of her room.

“Well now, has the sun risen in the west? Rare to see you up so early.”

The old woman slowly sweeping the courtyard looked gratified. “Finally decided to pick up the old family craft again?”

“Good, very good. Even though you’ve let it go for so many years, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. As long as you’ve come around, Miss, it’s never too late to pick it back up.”

“What are you thinking, Lin Ma?” Yuan Qingzhi didn’t even turn her head, jogging along in her slippers. “The only reason I’m up early today is because I have a package to pick up.”

Lin Ruhua: “…”

Watching Yuan Qingzhi happily bounce back through the entrance with a package, wandering around looking for a knife to open it, Lin Ruhua couldn’t help but put down her broom and sigh faintly. “We can barely make ends meet in this house.”

The sound of the package being torn open paused abruptly.

Lin Ruhua pressed on, “Also, the five-year maintenance fee for the courtyard we live in is due, isn’t it?”

They were currently living in an old courtyard house with nearly a thousand years of history, located within Qingcheng’s second ring road. Just the pear garden opera house outside the main courtyard was an antique featured exclusively on a page in high school textbooks. The annual maintenance cost was astronomical—thankfully, the government covered most of it, but the remaining portion was still a considerable burden.

Hearing this, Yuan Qingzhi’s face scrunched up like a prune.

“Just two more days of rest, the last two days! I’ll go look for a job the day after tomorrow! I swear to God, I definitely will!”

Her heart filled with bleak despair.

Such divine days of lying flat were about to leave her behind.

Yuan Qingzhi had been spectacularly fired for leading her colleagues in a movement to refuse overtime. To smooth things over, the company gave her a generous severance package.

But she was always carefree and didn’t find losing her job particularly upsetting. Instead, she was jubilant, setting off a string of firecrackers the moment she got home, giving herself a decisive long vacation.

Every day she ate well, drank well, slept soundly, binged dramas until midnight, and woke up when the sun was high in the sky.

“Ahhhh—” Yuan Qingzhi complained loudly, “Work is so tiring and hard, I don’t want to go to work!”

“Why don’t we pick up the family business then?” Lin Ruhua swept the fallen leaves into a pile, her tone light as a cloud. “Although this old woman is getting on in years, my bones are still strong. I can still lend you a hand, Miss.”

The courtyard instantly fell silent, only the whistling wind audible. Even the sparrows seemed to have flown far away.

“No way!”

Whenever this topic came up, Yuan Qingzhi immediately refused to cooperate. She flopped down onto the rice grains spread out on the ground to dry, looking exactly like a salted fish wanting to be sun-dried along with them.

She squinted at the sliver of azure sky filtering through her fingers, yawning with one hand covering her mouth. “Lin Ma, this isn’t about whether I want to or not, it’s that times have changed!”

“There are so many forms of modern entertainment. Why would young people be interested in opera? You need to understand opera to appreciate watching it.”

Traditional opera, once immensely popular throughout history, had declined sharply after entering modern society. When the cultural relics restoration office came to register the property rights, Yuan Qingzhi had even calculated whether she could charge admission fees and achieve her dream of lying flat and collecting money sooner.

But in recent years, fewer and fewer people came to visit their ancient opera stage. The last person who came was just using the stage for a photoshoot, which was ridiculous.

“Since becoming a star performer is so difficult, your talent, Miss, is all the more precious and shouldn’t be wasted.”

Lin Ruhua put down her broom, speaking earnestly. “Yesterday, I heard the neighbors talking about the Grand Opera Festival in three days. It happens once a decade and has a profound impact on the opera world. It seems like a good opportunity to make a comeback.”

The Grand Opera Festival was a major event in the opera world and a grand celebration for Qingcheng, the City of Opera. This coastal city still retained customs passed down from ancient times, holding sacrificial ceremonies every year, including rituals like the incense fire dragon and lion dances. Among these, performing on an opera stage built in the old city was the most crucial part.

According to the ancestors, once an opera began, beings from all directions would come to listen. Even if mortals didn’t listen, it didn’t mean gods and ghosts wouldn’t.

Therefore, even if there was no audience, the performance could not be stopped midway. Ancient sacrifices always required an opera stage; the two were intimately linked. If one seized the opportunity to perform then, perhaps they could ride the wave and become famous overnight.

“No, no, absolutely not.” Yuan Qingzhi shook her head like a rattle drum. “Other people are other people. If I sing opera, I might actually die.”

“What kind of opera are you singing? Just moving your lips, how could it be dangerous?” Lin Ruhua looked skeptical.

“…It’s nothing. I wasn’t fully awake just now, talking nonsense. You heard wrong, Lin Ma.”

Yuan Qingzhi opened her mouth, then closed it, grabbing a handful of her bird’s nest hair and rather stiffly changing the subject. “Anyway, I’m definitely not singing opera, not in this lifetime!”

To show her resolve, she even added, “I’d rather go from being a 996 drone to a 007 drone!”^[1]T/N: 996 refers to working 9 am-9 pm, 6 days/week. 007 implies 00:00-00:00, 7 days/week, i.e., working 24/7.

For a corporate drone who usually detested work to utter such unyielding words, it was clear this topic could no longer continue. Yuan Qingzhi seemed to have greased the soles of her feet, finding an excuse and slipping away immediately.

Watching the young woman’s back disappear through the inner courtyard gate, the old woman shook her head and sighed.

She was an orphan adopted by the Pear Garden Troupe and grew up there. Lacking significant talent for opera, she usually just did odd jobs.

Later, as times changed, the Pear Garden declined, opera faded, and the original troupe members scattered, changing professions. Only Lin Ruhua remained, having spent most of her life there.

Because of this, Lin Ruhua had been genuinely happy when she learned the Pear Garden had a new owner.

The old Master had lived a glorious life, full of legendary achievements, but sadly only took one direct disciple. Fortunately, his daughter, Yuan Qingzhi, had grown up by his side, learning through constant exposure. It was only natural for the daughter to inherit the father’s profession; she would surely revive the glory of opera.

So Lin Ruhua spent a whole week thoroughly cleaning the vast Pear Garden, inside and out. She waited and waited, until finally, one evening, she saw a certain university student arrive, back home for summer vacation with a backpack slung over her shoulders.

Under the scorching July sun, Yuan Qingzhi, eyes wide like a dead fish, held a map and paced back and forth in front of the Pear Garden entrance several times. With an excited heart and trembling hands, she muttered, “Hehehe, this immense fortune, it’s finally my turn…”

“Front hall, back courtyard, plus the opera house, a five-courtyard-deep compound… If I could sell this, wouldn’t I be set for life, just lying flat?!”

Lin Ruhua was aghast upon hearing this and rushed out. “You mustn’t, Miss, you mustn’t!”

The Liu Family Pear Garden had a thousand-year history. If it was ruined in her hands, she would become a sinner for ages, unable to face the ancestors.

From that day on, Lin Ruhua deeply understood just how unreliable the character of this famous performer’s descendant was.

If she could sit, she’d never stand; if she could lie flat, she’d never strive. Her life’s dream was to coast along waiting to die. She talked nonsense all day, could whip out a glow stick and shout “666” (awesome) at any moment, transitioning from university slacker to corporate drone without changing her ways for years.

Lin Ruhua also felt a deep sense of regret.

If Yuan Qingzhi truly had no talent, it would be one thing. But Lin Ruhua had heard the little tunes Yuan Qingzhi hummed while hanging laundry, and the occasional burst of Hebei Bangzi opera she belted out in the bathroom when the mood struck—it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say her voice could pierce clouds and shatter stone.

Although her own opera skills were lacking, her appreciation skills hadn’t diminished.

That tone, though indistinct, was eight or nine-tenths as good as the old Master’s when he was alive.

Precisely because of this, the regret was even greater.

“Forget it, forget it. Young people have their own ideas. I’m almost in the grave, why am I still worrying about this?”

After sighing to herself for a while, she shook her head again, gave a helpless smile, and continued sweeping the fallen leaves.

But today was destined to be an extremely special day.

After slipping back to her room, Yuan Qingzhi first checked all her account balances, punching the numbers into a calculator one by one. Staring at the resulting figure, she opened her bills as if facing a formidable enemy.

After confirming that every disappearing cent was accounted for, she finally sighed in resignation, opened a recruitment app, and began browing job listings.

“Huh? They expect me to work overtime with this salary? I’m afraid I won’t be able to resist punching the boss into the hospital.”

“No five insurances and one housing fund? Are they recruiting workers or slaves?”

“Only hiring recent graduates but requiring three years of work experience? They’ll be lucky if they ever hire anyone.”

After grumbling through the listings and finding nothing suitable, Yuan Qingzhi was about to turn the page when she suddenly heard a noise from the small courtyard.

She pushed open the window and spotted several furtive figures gathered around Lin Ma, instantly becoming alert.

“Hey— Who goes there?!”

Jia Wenyu was trying his best to persuade Lin Ma, attempting to gain her trust, when he turned his head and saw a figure in pajamas, shouldering a broom, rushing over like lightning at 280 mph.

“I’m warning you! This is a society ruled by law! People like you, relying on your youth, trying to bully the elderly—you’ll end up in the police station…”

Halfway through, Yuan Qingzhi choked on her words.

Her gaze slowly shifted across the group of men before her—averaging 1.8 meters tall, uniformly dressed in dark-patterned black and silver Flying Fish Robes, wearing studded python-pattern bracers, with silver-hilted Embroidered Spring Sabers at their waists.

What was that word again?

“Cosplay?”

Yuan Qingzhi understood. It was just another group wanting to rent the place for photos.

Except this group was larger, not only a group but also their costumes were much higher quality. They didn’t look like mass-produced items, more like custom-made, the fabric looked quite textured.

That Embroidered Spring Saber, too—it looked heavy, the scabbard’s patterns were neat. If it weren’t illegal to carry restricted knives on the street, it looked quite real.

Jia Wenyu: “…”

He lowered his voice, “Boss, is she really Grandmaster Liu’s daughter? Our only, and last, lifeline right now?”

Yan Guchen lifted his eyelids slightly, ignoring him. Instead, he raised a hand, presenting an ID card bearing the national emblem.

“Hello, we are law enforcement officers from the Si Tian Jian. We apologize for the abrupt visit and hope for your understanding and cooperation.”

Yuan Qingzhi looked down. The ID card indeed had the three large character【Si Tian Jian】written on it, with the official title【Director-General】next to it, followed by a string of ID numbers below.

“Si Tian Jian? Isn’t that an ancient government agency?”

Her voice was thick with confusion. “You might as well say you’re the Jin Yi Wei.”^[2]T/N: Jin Yi Wei were the Ming Dynasty imperial secret police/bodyguards, famous and often depicted in media, somewhat analogous to the imposing image the men presented.

“We are a state-appointed semi-confidential agency, officially known as the 32nd Division, under the 507th Bureau, responsible for supernatural affairs. We retained the ancient name due to historical reasons; this can be verified through official channels. As for the attire, it’s merely to coordinate with the upcoming Grand Opera Festival in three days, there’s no other connection.”

Yan Guchen, face cold, explained with rare patience, then changed the subject. “Since that’s clear, let’s continue with the procedure. We’d like to confirm one more time.”

“Are you Miss Yuan Qingzhi, the biological daughter of Grandmaster Liu Wenqing of the Qing School?”

Yuan Qingzhi was still studying the authenticity of the ID card.

Fortunately, her name wasn’t a secret. Inheriting this five-courtyard-deep opera residence was the best proof of her identity.

“Yeah.”

Little did she know that this short “Yeah” caused a storm in the hearts of the Si Tian Jian members standing behind her.

‘Heavens, she really is Grandmaster Liu’s daughter?’

These people’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

Due to their line of work, there was no shortage of opera fans interested in classical traditional culture within the Si Tian Jian.

Don’t be fooled by Yan Guchen’s current cool-guy poker face; Jia Wenyu had personally witnessed his own boss treasuring an out-of-print cassette tape passed down in his family like a priceless artifact, simply because it contained a few lines sung by Grandmaster Liu. He listened to that segment over and over in the office every day, practically polishing it smooth with use.

“It’s like this, recently we’ve encountered an extremely troublesome emergency, and we need to request your assistance.”

“Request my assistance?” Yuan Qingzhi returned the ID card, finally interested upon hearing this. “I wasn’t aware I had any special skills that would warrant someone coming personally to request them. Go on, tell me.”

When she graduated from university, she was the kind of student who basically got a pity diploma from her advisor because they couldn’t bear to fail her. Asking her for help? They’d really picked the right person.

“We learned from Teacher Cheng Yuehua that you are the only person in the world today who possesses natural opera talent…”

Yan Guchen hadn’t finished speaking when Yuan Qingzhi, with a swish, turned to leave.

“Don’t bother asking me about singing opera. I never learned, I can’t sing.”

“Ten million.”

Her departing footsteps stopped dead.

“Money is not an issue. If the matter can be completely resolved, the Si Tian Jian is willing to offer fifty million.”

“Well, even though I can’t sing, it wouldn’t hurt to listen. Maybe I’ll remember how?”

Yuan Qingzhi immediately retreated to her previous position, pursing her lips into a smile, completely ignoring her previous statement.

In life, one must be flexible. Nothing shameful about it.

Yan Guchen was momentarily speechless.

It seemed there was finally a lead to resolving the situation, but he hadn’t expected his idol’s daughter to have such a money-grubbing personality.

Ultimately, he chose to rub the hilt of his Embroidered Spring Saber with his thumb, skipping over the topic. “…The Si Tian Jian seeking Miss Yuan’s help is truly a last resort. The current situation is extremely urgent. Any delay could lead to unimaginable consequences.”

So what exactly was the matter? Just a few sentences had completely hooked Yuan Qingzhi’s curiosity.

Even during her father’s peak, no rich fool had ever thrown fifty million at him just to perform one opera.

What virtue or ability did she, an unknown coasting on her ancestor’s fame, possess?

“Here’s the situation, I’ll be brief.”

The current Director-General of the Si Tian Jian took a deep breath and laid everything out. “Six months ago, through various clues, the Si Tian Jian detected and observed that the reality we inhabit is undergoing some degree of distortion and fusion with a classical opera.”

His brow furrowed tightly. “The exact reason for all this is still unknown. Before that happens, the only thing we can be certain of is…”

“An extremely dangerous figure from the opera is about to emerge from it.”