“Keng!”

Anyone who had heard Xuanyuan Lige play before would recognize, from that very first note alone, that it could only have come from his hands. Anyone who hadn’t would surely be struck breathless by that same first note!

In this entire world, there had never been a single zither player who could stun the heart so completely with the very first note of a piece.

The same note, played with different force, from a different angle — could sound worlds apart.

Had Mi’er been able to hear, she would surely have felt her blood stirring, her spirit rising, for what Xuanyuan Lige was playing was none other than that piece: “War Rises.”

War Rises!

Years ago, on the cliffs above the Innocent Abyss, this was the very piece he had played — before him, on the suspended bridge spanning the void, Jun Beiyue and Chu Tiange clashed blade against sword, while below, the armies of West Chu and Da Zhou surged against one another in battle — what a magnificent, sweeping sight it had been!

And the one who had orchestrated that entire war, his fingers commanding the winds of fate, a beauty by his side!

Now, “War Rises” rose again — no one could say what was in Xuanyuan Lige’s heart, why he would suddenly play this piece, so abruptly, so forcefully shattering the quiet stillness of the grassland.

This time, though, the one beside him was no longer that woman who understood and appreciated the zither — it was Mi’er.

Mi’er couldn’t hear a single sound. And yet, even without hearing, watching Xuanyuan Lige’s expression grow steadily more intense, watching his hands move ever more urgently, her own breath grew unconsciously urgent in turn.

Just what kind of piece was it, that could make him play with such total absorption, with his very heart and soul laid bare?

A sudden gust of wind swept past, tossing Xuanyuan Lige’s robes and long hair. His fingers moved faster still, so fast that the individual movements blurred entirely, only two flickering shadows visible darting back and forth across the strings.

Mi’er watched, unblinking, her breath quickening, her heart racing — she couldn’t control her own mind at all, as if her very soul was being drawn entirely into those hands, her whole being pulled toward that zither, willing, as though she would gladly become the strings themselves, to be played by those fingers for the rest of her life.

Just watching alone left her so utterly entranced — what would it be like, to actually hear?

At that thought, Mi’er suddenly snapped out of her trance. What would it be like to hear?

There was no “what if.” She was deaf. She had never asked, never dared to ask — but she knew. The two burly men who had deafened her had been the young master’s own men.

To this day, the only explanation he’d ever given her was this: from now on, never speak again.

Why?

Why make me follow you in such silence, and yet play the zither for me like this?

Why?

That sudden moment of clarity cut through Mi’er’s heart like a blade, both her ears aching faintly, and she finally let herself go, lifting her gaze to meet Xuanyuan Lige’s eyes.

The moment she looked up, she suddenly discovered that this man was looking back at her too — looking directly into her eyes.

That gaze, that intensity — as though the zither were being played for her alone at this very moment, as though all his feelings were being poured out, spoken to her alone.

Mi’er froze again, only now realizing that this man’s eyes weren’t always cold and distant after all, weren’t always so clear and unclouded, hiding no trace of emotion at all.

So… the young master had eyes capable of tenderness too, soft as flowing water!

Unconsciously, Mi’er parted her lips, about to speak — but just then, Xuanyuan Lige suddenly lifted his hand high, and with a ringing “keng,” the music stopped.

Mi’er, of course, couldn’t hear it, but she could feel the force behind that motion, as though a gust of wind had swept past.

In an instant, all the words she’d meant to say were swallowed back down; she could only stare, stunned, at the man before her. Every trace of anger, every trace of resentment she’d felt before was instantly cast from her mind — not for any other reason, but because in those eyes, she had glimpsed a sorrow she would never forget for the rest of her life!

The music stopped, and only then did Xuanyuan Lige emerge from his own inner world.

He looked at Mi’er, still frozen in place, and suddenly smiled — faint, warm, utterly without warning, a smile that bloomed toward her like spring returning to the earth, flowers blossoming across the land.

This night — Mi’er would surely never forget it for as long as she lived.

She had seen the sorrow in his eyes, and at the same time, she had seen that purest, most unguarded smile of his.

Young master, just what kind of person are you, really?

Young master, what kind of past do you carry with you?

While Mi’er was still lost in her daze, Xuanyuan Lige had already put away the zither and swung himself back up onto his horse, flicking his whip casually to signal it was time to move on.

He had Auntie Qin by his side, the Beast Twins, and no shortage of subordinates, every one of them holding expectations of him. What he lacked was someone who knew nothing of his past, and expected nothing of his future.

“Mute Slave, from now on, just follow me — knowing nothing is for the best,” Xuanyuan Lige said flatly, then snapped the whip and rode off swiftly toward the Innocent Abyss…

At this moment, in the Innocent Abyss, along the rock face on the East Qin side — the eastern side — the Duogong tribespeople had already begun digging their tunnel. Thanks to the Duogong people’s特殊 skills, this massive undertaking required surprisingly few hands, and it was being carried out entirely underground, in complete secrecy, without the faintest whisper of it leaking out.

The Innocent Abyss ran a thousand zhang deep, and the boundless deep sea beneath it was even more fathomless still — something Ziqing and the others, deep within the Jinjiao Palace, had no way of knowing, could never have imagined.

At this moment, Ziqing and Jun Beiyue were still searching within the Jinjiao Palace, while Baili Weisheng leaned against the great stone pillar and had, in fact, genuinely fallen asleep.

Normally, whenever Baili Weisheng slept, Baili Xiaosheng would keep watch at his side without fail — but this time was different. She stood instead at the entrance to the Jinjiao Palace, gazing inward, seemingly watching for something, her face etched with worry.

Madam Jinjiao found this puzzling. At first, her attention had been entirely fixed on Baili Weisheng, and she hadn’t paid much mind to this child — but once Baili Weisheng fell asleep, she began to observe Baili Xiaosheng, and immediately noticed something was off about the girl.

She seemed to know some kind of secret — wanting to speak, yet not daring to, weighed down with worry.

This group had both the old and the young among them — she couldn’t quite work out their relationships, but they seemed remarkably close-knit.

What could possibly be troubling a child so much that she couldn’t bring herself to say it?

Madam Jinjiao wanted to ask, but there was nothing she could do — she had already accepted the reality that she couldn’t be seen or heard. Watching Baili Xiaosheng’s worried face, she felt utterly helpless, and drew her gaze back — only to notice that Baili Weisheng had slid down and was now sitting on the ground.

“This child… hasn’t slept in days, has he!”

Madam Jinjiao said with a smile, crouching down to study Baili Weisheng closely — these brows, this nose bridge, these lips… the longer she looked, the more her own brow began to furrow.

At first glance there had seemed nothing unusual about him, but looking closely now, she found something strangely familiar about this child.

How could that be?

Just as Madam Jinjiao’s suspicion deepened, Ziqing and the others emerged from within.

Meng Wanyue walked ahead, and the moment she spotted Baili Xiaosheng, she went straight over and scooped her up, pinching her little nose fondly, laughing. “Aw, look at this — this child is far more thoughtful than her own master, worrying about us like this.”

Little did she know, Baili Weisheng hadn’t actually been asleep at all. He cracked his eyes open lazily, not bothering to pay Meng Wanyue any mind, glancing instead at Ziqing, then at Jun Beiyue — and he already knew: they’d found nothing.

If the Isolated Isle’s ruins really were somewhere in the Innocent Abyss, where else could they possibly be, if not in the boundless deep sea?

For a moment, as if by unspoken agreement, everyone turned to look at that calm stretch of water by the palace gates…

…