If they were never meant to be friends, why had they ever gotten to know each other in the first place?
If they were destined to part ways, why had they ever met at all?
Ziqing had always been so single-minded about things.
Love was love, and not loving was not loving. Hatred was hatred, an enemy was an enemy, and a friend was a friend!
And yet, of all things, a man like that had appeared in her life—one she couldn’t forget, yet couldn’t cherish either.
It wasn’t that Ziqing didn’t want to cry. She wanted to, more than at any other moment.
But she couldn’t cry at all.
She looked toward Jun Beiyue, biting down hard, her entire body trembling, every organ inside her shaking—yet no tears would come.
Beiyue, you gave me a reason to play the duet, and yet Xuanyuan Lige has already… left without a word.
Grievances you can put into words aren’t real grievances; sorrow you can cry out isn’t real sorrow.
Watching Ziqing, unable even to cry, Baili Weisheng instinctively looked away.
He found, to his own surprise, that he felt troubled on this woman’s account, that he couldn’t bear to see her so distressed, felt an inexplicable urge to go comfort her—even, faintly, an impulse to pull her into his arms.
He hastily looked away, retreating in some disarray, afraid that if he kept watching, he might not be able to hold himself back.
This woman named Han Ziqing—had she and he really only ever been friends?
Baili Weisheng wondered, silently repeating the name “Han Ziqing” in his mind, but no matter how he tried, those three characters brought him no sense of familiarity at all!
If even her name felt unfamiliar, then surely there couldn’t be anything special between them, Baili Weisheng thought, and felt a touch more at ease for it.
The room fell silent. The truth Meng Duo’er had brought was too much for anyone to accept all at once!
And Ziqing’s reaction had finally made clear to everyone just how much unspoken reluctance this woman had carried, all along, over the matter of hunting down Xuanyuan Lige.
Everyone sat in silence, until Jun Beiyue gently pulled the trembling, barely-composed Ziqing into his arms, and only then did everyone let out a breath.
The state she was in was truly frightening—frightening enough that they feared she might completely break down.
Jun Beiyue held Ziqing gently, softly rubbing her back, a mix of emotions churning inside him, only quietly sighing.
Xuanyuan Lige was dead.
Who could play the blood zheng now?
If that was the case, hadn’t all their hard-won efforts—the secret of the lonely island, the score of “Parting Sorrow”—been for nothing?
Xuanyuan Lige, if you loved a woman so much, are you really content to leave with such regret?
You should have understood, as well as I do, just how much Ziqing longed to find that lonely island.
Leaving without a word—is that the conduct of a real man?
Ziqing was sunk in grief, and no one dared speak. After a long moment, Jun Beiyue’s gaze swept over Baili Weisheng and settled on Meng Duo’er.
“Did Xuanyuan Lige leave any last words?”
At that question, something stirred faintly in Baili Weisheng’s heart, and he found himself murmuring under his breath, without meaning to, “Leave what words?”
But no one noticed him—after all, they’d forgotten he was even part of the conversation. Who would expect this man to remember anything at all?
Meng Duo’er shook her head. “At that point they were both surrounded by the purple light. I couldn’t hear or see anything.”
As she spoke, she glanced innocently toward Baili Weisheng, but unfortunately, faced with everyone’s questioning looks, he too looked utterly blank, the picture of innocence.
Jue Mingzi stepped forward at that point. “Young Master Baili, may I take your pulse?”
Baili Weisheng nodded and offered his hand willingly.
Unfortunately, no matter how many times Jue Mingzi checked, he couldn’t find any cause at all!
For memory loss, it was entirely normal to find no discernible cause.
As for whether it could be cured, that too remained uncertain.
Seeing Jue Mingzi shake his head, no one held out much hope any longer. Seeing everyone’s disappointed expressions, Baili Weisheng suddenly felt a pang of guilt, and said timidly, “If there’s anything at all this humble one can do, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
No one answered him. Silence all around.
Everything had happened so suddenly that even Jun Beiyue found himself at a loss for what to do. He could only tell everyone to disperse for now and rest properly for a few days.
Just as they were about to leave, Ziqing suddenly spoke up. “Baili Weisheng, where’s the blood zheng?”
Baili Weisheng started, puzzled. “Blood zheng?”
“That’s with me,” Madam Jinjiao said helplessly. “I’ll send it over in a bit.”
Ziqing said nothing more, only nodded weakly, then left with Jun Beiyue.
Back in their room, Ziqing remained silent, showing no sign of resting. She simply sat at the qin stand, hands resting on the Wuzheng, staring blankly at the strings without playing.
Watching her, Jun Beiyue felt both heartache and helpless frustration, as though something were pressing down on his chest with no way to release it.
He watched her for a long while, his handsome brow still knitted tight.
He had no idea what he could do for her.
The two of them sat in silence.
It wasn’t until Madam Jinjiao brought over the blood zheng that Jun Beiyue, still without a word, took it and closed the door.
Madam Jinjiao thought it over for a moment, unsure how to offer comfort, and could only leave.
Jue Mingzi sat alone in the courtyard, lighting a pipe, recalling how well-behaved and sensible Xuanyuan Lige had been as a child, his eyes reddening despite himself.
That child hadn’t really been bad—otherwise he wouldn’t have saved Baili Weisheng. He’d simply been too stubborn.
If everything could be done over, no matter what it took, he would have taken Xuanyuan Lige away from the Dongqin royal family back then.
But alas… there was no medicine for regret in this world.
On the rooftop, Xiong Xiaobao and Baili Weisheng lay side by side, gazing up at the stars and the crescent moon.
“Uncle Scholar, you always used to like sitting on rooftops eavesdropping on people. Do you remember?”
“Sneaking about like a thief is no behavior for a gentleman. Don’t slander me so.”
“Uncle Scholar, you used to always smile at Mommy. Mommy said your smile was the best-looking thing about you. Do you remember?”
“Such frivolous conduct is beneath a gentleman.”
“Uncle Scholar, whenever you did something bad before, you’d deny it to the death. Remember that?”
Xiong Xiaobao said it listlessly, then rolled over to face Baili Weisheng.
Baili Weisheng remained perfectly serious. “Young friend Xiong, if you continue talking such nonsense, I’m afraid I can’t keep you company any longer.”
“Uncle Scholar, you have a disciple too, you know. Do you remember?” Xiong Xiaobao asked again, too tired to bother with Baili Weisheng’s insistence on formality.
“A disciple?” Baili Weisheng asked, confused.
“A girl you took in and raised. She found her real parents in Nanzhao. She says if you don’t go see her, she’ll go to the Poison Den and expose all your secrets.” Xiong Bao continued.
Baili Weisheng listened, utterly bewildered, and not wanting to argue further with Xiong Xiaobao, turned to leave.
But Xiong Xiaobao suddenly grabbed his sleeve and said fiercely, “You’re not allowed to leave!”
“You unruly child!” Baili Weisheng said, growing serious. “Let go!”
Xiong Xiaobao looked at him, cheeks puffed up with frustration, but refused to let go.
“Are you letting go or not!” Baili Weisheng said sternly.
To his surprise, Xiong Xiaobao suddenly flung himself forward instead, clinging tightly to Baili Weisheng, and began sobbing softly—crying like a real child, because that’s exactly what he was.
“You wretched scholar, are you never going to be well again?”
Baili Weisheng froze, at a complete loss, an inexplicable restlessness surging inside him, and he struck his own head several times, hard.
They should have been celebrating—finding the missing notes, successfully leaving Nanzhao. And yet now, the entire estate lay under a heavy, oppressive gloom, no one able to muster any spirit, no one able to see any hope.