That final dream, that dream of farewell—it wasn’t only Ziqing who had dreamed it. Jun Beiyue and Baili Weisheng, too, had both experienced it, all of them within that same dream.
Thinking back on it carefully now, they realized that though the dream had appeared to them as an ordinary dream, it had, in truth, been an illusion realm all its own—they simply hadn’t recognized it for what it was until now.
Looking back carefully, they began to recall the strangeness in Xuanyuan Lige’s behavior within the dream, and remembered all those many people who couldn’t possibly have appeared within the Lishang illusion realm at all!
Ziqing leaned against Jun Beiyue, staring at her own limp, listless hands, saying nothing at all.
If Xuanyuan Lige had simply vanished after leaving, never appearing again, if they hadn’t walked that difficult yet joyful road together for so long, perhaps Ziqing could have found some way to accept it, to let it go.
But now, how could she possibly bear to?
Not just Ziqing—even Jun Beiyue and Baili Weisheng’s faces were written all over with reluctance and regret.
“That guy… couldn’t he have just said a proper goodbye?” Jun Beiyue sighed, exasperated. He thought to himself that he would never forget Xuanyuan Lige for the rest of his life—that he would never again, in this lifetime, encounter another rival, another friend quite like him!
“Exactly! If he’d said a proper goodbye, I definitely would have stayed behind to keep him company!” Baili Weisheng said bitterly.
In truth, none of them were fools—they were all sharp, perceptive people. Xuanyuan Lige must have had his reasons, his own hidden burdens, for choosing to leave without a word, for secretly sending them out of the Lishang illusion realm without warning!
In other words, Xuanyuan Lige—and Bai Zili as well—had very likely met a grim fate.
Yet they preferred to believe, chose to believe, that at this very moment, Xuanyuan Lige, along with Xinyun and Nangong Jun, were all still perfectly fine, still living peacefully within the Lishang illusion realm.
It was simply that they now lived in different worlds, forever unable to see one another again, forever unable to know how the other was faring. That was all.
He was surely going to be fine!
If this was self-deception, then let them deceive themselves, gladly.
But Ziqing couldn’t deceive herself. She fell silent again, and another full day and night passed, her mind constantly replaying the image of Xuanyuan Lige smiling at her, painting her eyebrows, urging her to answer Jun Beiyue’s proposal.
Such a beautiful, joyful memory—yet the more she thought of it, the more her heart ached, and the more her heart ached, the more desperately she longed to see Xuanyuan Lige again, to ask him why he hadn’t simply said a proper goodbye, why he couldn’t even manage those two words—was it truly, truly the last time they would ever meet?
At this thought, Ziqing suddenly wrenched herself free from Jun Beiyue’s arms, lunging once more toward the blood zither, raising her hand and playing frantically—Shangli, once again.
She wanted so desperately for a miracle to happen, wanted so badly to be able to enter the Shangli illusion realm once more—perhaps Xuanyuan Lige was there, waiting for them even now.
Perhaps, if she could just enter the Shangli illusion realm, walk out of that cave, she might once again see his thin, solitary figure from behind, just as before, watching him turn to look at her, offering her that same faint smile.
Enduring the pain in her hands, Ziqing played on with all her might, her fingers moving faster and faster, the melody growing more and more frantic.
Jun Beiyue had initially intended to let her release her grief this way, hoping it might bring her some relief—but seeing her hands already bleeding, he immediately reached out and grabbed her hands to stop her. Yet Ziqing wrenched herself free with surprising force and kept right on playing!
“Han Ziqing, have you lost your mind!” Baili Weisheng shouted furiously, trying to stop her as well, but Ziqing’s strength proved too great, and she broke free of his grip too!
“Han Ziqing, stop this!” Jun Beiyue grabbed her hands once more, only to have her wrench free of his grasp again with sheer force.
But just as she plucked the strings once more, suddenly—a sharp, piercing ting rang out, followed by a deep, heavy echo.
The zither strings had snapped!
Ziqing froze, her hands stopping instantly, and Jun Beiyue and Baili Weisheng froze as well—the entire room fell into a silence so heavy it was almost terrifying.
Could it be that even Ali himself was refusing to let her play any longer?
Ziqing stared at the broken strings, remembering how Xuanyuan Lige himself had once broken this very zither with his own hands, and at last she couldn’t hold back any longer, collapsing over the instrument with a wail, sobbing uncontrollably.
Only in that moment did she truly, fully believe that they had left the Lishang illusion realm behind for good—truly believe that they would never see Xuanyuan Lige again.
The zither strings had snapped, and with them, every last one of her hopes had snapped too.
Jun Beiyue gently gathered her into his arms, softly patting her back, silently comforting her.
Baili Weisheng stared at the broken strings of the blood zither, gently running his fingertips over them, murmuring, “Xuanyuan Lige… is this your way of giving us one last proper farewell?”
The zither strings lay silent, and in that quiet room, only the sound of Ziqing’s sobbing remained, until at last, exhausted from crying, she lost consciousness entirely.
Jun Beiyue’s brow furrowed tightly. He glanced once at the wuzheng lying nearby and said flatly, “Scholar, let’s put both zithers away.”
Baili Weisheng was about to do just that, but on second thought, he said instead, “Never mind, never mind. Let her put them away herself when she wakes up. Consider it… consider it her chance to say a proper goodbye to Ali.”
Men and women naturally expressed grief in different ways—Ziqing had cried herself into unconsciousness, while Jun Beiyue and Baili Weisheng remained composed and clear-headed. But that didn’t mean they weren’t grieving too; they simply kept their sorrow buried deep within themselves, tucked away in memories held close.
Xuanyuan Lige, you will live on forever in all our hearts.
“When we get the chance, I’ll make a trip to the old imperial palace ruins of Great Qin, and have a memorial stone erected for him,” Baili Weisheng said flatly.
Jun Beiyue nodded. “Find a time, and I’ll go with you.”
With Ziqing asleep, both Jun Beiyue and Baili Weisheng remained in low spirits, neither one making any move to leave the music room. They simply sat cross-legged on cushions, backs against the wall, eyes closed in quiet reflection, resting.
It wasn’t until the following day, when the morning sunlight slanted in through the window, that Ziqing slowly opened her eyes. By now, calm had settled over her—far, far more composed than she’d been the night before.
She stared blankly at the blood zither lying quietly beside her, simply looking at it, saying nothing.
“Just consider him still there, within the Lishang illusion realm. He’s always there,” Jun Beiyue offered in comfort.
There was little he could do—he had no idea whether Ziqing had even taken in his words, as she remained perfectly still, lost in thought about something.
“Qing’er, don’t be like this…” Jun Beiyue truly had no talent for comforting others; all he could do was hold her tightly. He had to admit that, for one fleeting moment, he found himself almost wishing he could be Xuanyuan Lige instead—though he knew perfectly well that Ziqing had only ever seen Xuanyuan Lige as a cherished confidant.
A kindred spirit and a lover were, in the end, two things exceedingly difficult to become one and the same.
Helpless, Jun Beiyue glanced over at Baili Weisheng—this fellow was sharp-tongued enough, surely he could offer some comfort. But Baili Weisheng merely shrugged, utterly unable to help either. Yet just as Jun Beiyue turned his gaze away, Baili Weisheng suddenly cried out in alarm, “Oh no!”
Jun Beiyue thought Baili Weisheng was simply putting on an act and asked, feigning alarm along with him, “What’s wrong?”
But Baili Weisheng leapt straight up from the ground, grabbing hold of Ziqing. “Han Ziqing, there’s something I’ve never told you—your son… no wait, your son, he… ugh, how do I even put this!”
The matter of time—he’d completely forgotten about it!
Just then, Ziqing finally slowly lifted her eyes to look at Baili Weisheng, and upon hearing the word “son,” she truly, fully snapped back to reality from the Lishang illusion realm.
Realization dawned on her at once—they had left, they were truly back in Da Zhou now. That’s right—her son, her precious Xiong Bao—where was he?
Her precious little bear must hate her to death by now!
Jun Beiyue suddenly grasped the same realization, releasing Ziqing in shock and leaping to his feet.
The couple, paying no attention at all to Baili Weisheng stammering incoherently behind them, rushed out of the room together without a word…
…