Applause resounded like drums after three pieces were played downstairs.
The young performer, with rosy lips and white teeth, stood up holding a pipa, bowed to the audience, and was about to step down for another performer.
Each day, he only needed to sing three songs to open the show; the tea house also had other young ladies take turns singing.
But the female guests hadn't heard enough. Someone suddenly shouted.
"Another song!"
Soon after, many followed in chorus.
"Mr. Zhang, don't leave in a hurry, we are all here for you. We've long grown tired of the other ladies' songs, they don't bring anything new."
Sitting in the front row with a basket at her feet, an aunt with a round face, who ran over to support during her grocery time, stood up while eating sunflower seeds.
"The little lady who insisted on monopolizing you last time has been punished and made to kneel in the ancestral hall. Mr. Zhang, what kind of girl do you really fancy?"
