Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Kun Qu Opera, Intangible Heritage Inheritor!

Madam Lin’s words dropped into the dining room like a spark on dry grass.

The air, already tight, went still.

Ye Wan Lan slowly raised her head. Her voice was calm. “What did you just say?”

Her chin rested on one hand. The green-jade earrings swayed faintly.

She smiled—but it felt like a mountain pressing down, like a storm about to break.

It was hard to imagine an eighteen-year-old girl carrying the oppressive presence of someone long accustomed to standing above others.

Madam Lin forced herself to hold her ground. “What, you can’t take one sentence? Elders teaching juniors is only right. Are you made of glass—so fragile no one can speak to you?”

“Second Sister-in-law,” Xu Pei Qing said, speaking for the first time, “that’s not right. You didn’t raise her for a single day. How did you become her elder?”

Madam Lin sneered.

In the Lin Family, only Lin Wo Yu’s branch was worth courting. Xu Pei Qing had only one son.

Good grades were one thing, but no matter how brilliant Lin Wen Li was, he could never return to the main family in Yun Jing.

Lin Wei Lan spoke lightly, “So I really am old. The younger generation already wants to replace me.”

The moment the words left her mouth, everyone’s faces changed.

“Mom!” Madam Lin sprang up, forcing a smile. “Mom, that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to help you—”

Lin Wei Lan did not look at her. She only hummed once. “Go to the ancestral hall yourself.”

Madam Lin’s smile froze. “Yes, Mom.”

She stood stiffly. Lin Qing Wen did not dare speak for her.

Lin Wei Lan coughed once. “What are you staring at? Eat.”

“Yes, Mom is right.” Lin Wo Yu hurried to smooth things over. “Everyone eat. Qin Qin, have more shrimp—you still have to practice later. Wan Lan, you eat too.”

Lin Yue patted his chest, whispering to Lin Qin, “Good thing I didn’t say anything. Otherwise I’d be the one kneeling in the ancestral hall.”

Then he leaned closer, voice even lower. “But Sister, I think Grandmother’s lost her mind.”

Lin Qin did not answer.

After the meal, Lin Wei Lan called Ye Wan Lan into the study.

—

Up on the top floor, in the ancestral hall, Madam Lin was already kneeling on a cushion when Lin Qing Wen arrived.

He shook his head. “You were impulsive today. Don’t do that again.”

“Impulsive?” Madam Lin sneered. “One sentence from her, and Old Madam handed her a company. If she keeps flattering her, Old Madam will hand her the entire Lin Family.”

She and Lin Qing Wen had only one son, while the Lin Family took pride in daughters.

Her hope of returning to the main family in Yun Jing was essentially severed. All she could do was curry favor with Lin Wo Yu’s branch.

“It’s a company about to go bankrupt,” Lin Qing Wen said, unconcerned. “Let her have it.”

He sounded almost bored. “She’s useless. My mother has an old illness. Who knows when she’ll be gone.”

Madam Lin was not soothed. “I just can’t stand that fox-like seduction. She couldn’t cling to the Zhou Family anymore, so now she’s crawling back here. A few sweet words and Old Madam was delighted—just like her mother.”

Ye Wan Lan’s family situation was complicated. Madam Lin had heard the rumors back when Lin Huai Jin brought her home six years ago.

Lin Jia Yan, the Lin family’s son, had vanished without a trace. His wife had remarried. All that remained was Ye Wan Lan—a burden left behind.

And even after returning to the Lin Family, she still refused to change her surname. How was she anything like a Lin Family member?

“Her mother…” Lin Qing Wen’s expression tightened. “Has there been any contact?”

“Contact?” Madam Lin scoffed. “If I had a daughter that troublesome, I’d hide as far away as I could.”

Lin Qing Wen nodded. “True.”

Even with Lin Wei Lan protecting Ye Wan Lan, it would not last forever.

—

Ye Wan Lan came out of the study at 8:00 p.m. The Lin Family had already scattered.

Xu Pei Qing had left the old residence with Lin Wen Li.

Lin Huai Jin looked exhausted. “You were reckless today. It’s a good thing your grandmother was in a decent mood.”

He frowned. “Why do you want that tiny company that’s about to go under? Do you even know how to do business?”

Ye Wan Lan asked quietly, “Uncle, do you ever hope that one day Shen Zhou will become the world’s center of culture, economy, and art again—and reclaim the number one seat?”

Lin Huai Jin stared at her. “What?”

Ye Wan Lan looked up at the sky. A soundless smile curved her lips. “I do.”

“You’re getting stranger by the day.” Lin Huai Jin rubbed his forehead. “One more thing—stay away from your second aunt. She’s hot-tempered and stubborn. Your cousin has probably been upsetting her lately. Don’t clash and make your grandmother unhappy.”

Ye Wan Lan hummed to show she heard.

Her phone vibrated with a new message.

“Dawn Bar. Same old place. Come pick me up.”

No signature.

Ye Wan Lan deleted it and blocked the number.

“What was that?” Lin Huai Jin asked.

“A scam text.”

Lin Huai Jin nodded and did not press.

—

Early the next morning, Sunday, Lin Wei Lan woke unusually refreshed. “Wo Yu, you and Qin Qin go to South City and bring Ting Yue some things.”

“Okay, Mom,” Lin Wo Yu replied. “You must rest. Don’t overwork yourself.”

“I know.” Lin Wei Lan’s mood was bright. Then she sighed. “That child… she’s suffered.”

Lin Wo Yu did not understand, but she did not ask. She changed clothes, then drove Lin Qin to South City.

South City bordered River City. It was about an hour and a half away by car.

The town was small, but rich with cultural atmosphere. Tourism thrived. Artisans and inheritors of intangible heritage were everywhere.

Lin Qin did not like the place. Every time Lin Wo Yu brought her to see Yan Ting Yue, they had to walk a long stretch of rough path.

Today, she had deliberately worn rain boots so she would not ruin her pants.

“Aunt Yan,” Lin Wo Yu said, setting down the box, “Mom asked me to bring you a few things. How have you been lately? You seem happy today.”

Yan Ting Yue smiled. “I have an inheritor. Of course I’m happy for once.”

Lin Wo Yu gasped. “An inheritor?”

She knew Yan Ting Yue, like Lin Wei Lan, was an inheritor of Shen Zhou’s intangible heritage.

The difference was that Lin Wei Lan inherited the guqin, while Yan Ting Yue inherited Kun Qu Opera.

After the war three hundred years ago, Shen Zhou’s civilization had been shattered and its traditions broken.

Rebuilding from ruins, then weathering the shock of industrialization, the country poured itself into the economy and heavy industry. Culture lagged far behind.

Even Kun Qu Opera—praised as the ancestor of a hundred operas—had declined.

Yan Ting Yue had studied under the Sage of Opera and held extraordinary status in the cultural world. She lived in seclusion now, and rumors claimed she was a descendant of the Carefree Prince, one of the four princely ranks.

Her standards were famously high. Finding an inheritor was nearly impossible.

“Yes,” Yan Ting Yue said, her smile deepening. “I underestimated young ladies these days. One song, and she stunned me. If I hadn’t met her for the first time, I’d have thought she’d studied with me for years.”

Lin Wo Yu’s eyes widened. “And she’s a young lady? That’s incredible.”

Lin Qin listened without meaning to.

How young could she be?

“She said she’ll come at noon,” Yan Ting Yue continued. “If you’re not busy, sit and have tea. You can meet her in a bit.”