Yuanfeng Building is an ancient theater in Shantong City, originally constructed during the previous dynasty, with a history of several hundred years. It used to host Qin opera, but now it showcases Kunqu opera. Many troupes pass through here, both local and from afar. However, as Shantong City declined, the local resources could no longer sustain a troupe, so invitations had to be extended to performers from outside. A few years ago, a new owner took over, known only by the surname Huang. He is mysterious, elusive, and rarely seen. People only know he is immensely wealthy, but what business he is involved in, or the extent of his fortune, remains unknown. No one really cares about these matters—as long as there's opera to enjoy, that's enough.

Upon acquiring Yuanfeng Building, this owner renovated and refreshed the place thoroughly, adding an extra level to the theater and several new listening boxes suspended above the main hall. Both the interior and exterior were adorned with new embellishments: carved dragons on the caisson ceiling, lavish decorations, and triple-layered eaves covered with gleaming green glazed tiles. The transformation was so extensive that the locals of Shantong City could barely recognize it, thinking it was an entirely new theater. Yet no matter how many eras Yuanfeng Building has seen, only the mountain real master and the unreachable frescoes in need of repainting truly know.

A theater is often more than just a performance venue—it's also a tea house and a tavern. When there isn't a performance, faint scents of cooking always waft through the hall. Shantong City, situated at a high elevation, experiences cold weather more readily. At this time of year, lamb is the preferred dish. A bowl of slightly bitter tea soup arrives first, followed by a plate of stewed lamb. Pairing all this with opera makes for a divine treat.

Today, coincidentally, opera accompanies the feast.

The opening act is "Si Fan," serving as an appetizer, followed by "Thousand Loyal Slaughter," which is the main course.

All of this was detailed in the invitation sent by the master Jiangxin Real Master.

For those unfamiliar with opera, the invitation not only listed the performances but also included extensive introductions about them—such as "Si Fan," which narrates the story of a young nun succumbing to worldly desires, weary of the solitude of chanting and worship, escaping from the nunnery. Meanwhile, "Thousand Loyal Slaughter" recounts the earlier years of the Ming dynasty, where Emperor Jianwen fled the capital after being escorted by loyal ministers and valiant generals amidst rebellion.

After strolling around with the two ladies, the afternoon promptly arrived, and it was time for Chen Yi to head to Yuanfeng Building.

Shantong City is vast, with numerous alleys and streets. Even after wandering for half the day, they had only explored a few markets, leaving many sights unseen. As for gains, Chen Yi had little; he was never particularly interested in sightseeing. Yin Weiyin, on the other hand, had a vastly different disposition. Feeling triumphant over Lu Ying, she was in excellent spirits and had made quite the haul.

Yin Weiyin picked out various items for Chen Yi—a jade pendant, sachets, bracelets, gourds, and more. In addition, she selected several hairpins for Lu Ying. Her cheerful mood made these spontaneous gifts an expression of goodwill among comrades.

Within Shantong City, occasional bursts of sand and wind arose.

"A sandstorm is coming!"

With a loud shout, roadside merchants hurriedly covered their goods with white cloth, shielding grains and flour. Vendors pushing carts of lamb soup quickly fled, while pedestrians in the alleys scattered in search of shelter.

Clouds sailed across the sky as the winds whipped up, carrying sand and dust in their wake. Accompanied by the aroma of lamb bread soup, the descending sand veiled the blazing sunlight. Amidst the swirling storm, Yuanfeng Building's façade appeared faintly visible. The female crown and Lu Ying retreated into a nearby teahouse, as the sand scraped against the walls with a sound reminiscent of flutes.

Lagging behind, Chen Yi paused mid-step upon noticing the incoming sandstorm. Initially, he planned to dodge to the right, but he abruptly froze. Something seemed to approach through the swirling dust. When he turned his head, Yin Weiyin and Lu Ying were shouting at him repeatedly, baffled by his stillness.

Under the soaring dust and amidst an empty alley, there was only Chen Yi remaining alongside the surging sand. He stood motionless, gazing ahead. Swirling masses of sand rushed past from the right, lightly tapping against the sword scabbard on his back.

Thud.

Chen Yi turned his head toward the sound.

From the yellow sands emerged a figure clad in dark gray satin—a tall yet emaciated silhouette moving sideways through the haze. The figure's head tilted upward, and a sudden chill swept the street. Chen Yi's hand instinctively fell upon his blade. As the sand devoured the light, the world dimmed, and his surroundings turned into dusk. A feral wolf-like glint seemed to flash in his eyes, only for it to morph into a wild-haired man grasping his blade tightly.

"Who's there?"

The figure did not stop but continued forward, twisting his head into an impossible angle to cast a sharp, wolf-like glance back at Chen Yi.

Chen Yi's knife edged slightly out of the sheath.

The man raised a single finger and pointed toward the sword on Chen Yi's back.

No words were spoken.

Chen Yi half understood the gesture yet maintained his grip on the knife. The man turned his head back again, his figure gradually fading away until the yellow sands engulfed him entirely. As the grains brushed against Chen Yi's face, the figure—wolf-like no more—dissolved into the endless desert like a solitary plume of smoke, unrecognizable amidst the dunes.

The blade slowly returned to its sheath. Chen Yi brushed off the dust on his clothes and leaped toward the teahouse in a few quick strides.

"Why were you standing there for so long?" Yin Weiyin stepped forward to ask.

Lu Ying cast a glance of curiosity and concern his way as well.

Chen Yi shook his head and replied, "It's nothing."

He recalled the man's face in his mind, silently murmuring to himself,

Lonely Smoke Sword?

Chen Yi had never seen Lonely Smoke Sword, nor had anyone ever told him who Lonely Smoke Sword was. Yet in that instant, amidst the oncoming yellow sands, Chen Yi felt an abrupt surge of vigilance—a sudden escalation of his senses. The tap on his sword sheath had been so subtle, almost imperceptible, that it could only belong to Lonely Smoke Sword.

Where did he go?

Chen Yi furrowed his brow in thought for a long time, then shook his head as the storm finally passed.

......

"This way, please."

Upon arriving at Yuanfeng Building, after exchanging brief formalities, Jiangxin Real Master ushered the three into a private box.

Chen Yi positioned his seat close to Lu Ying, as he currently played the role of her protector. Drawing too near to Yin Weiyin would risk exposing his true identity as Chen Yi.

Jiangxin Real Master, hosting the gathering, meticulously brewed tea. The tea whirl danced within the vessel, and after some time, he spoke:

"I had originally intended to solely invite Taichua Goddess. Unexpectedly, the chief disciple of the Sword Armor grace us with his presence as well. You've given this old man quite the surprise and delight today."

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