Jiang Xuening’s carriage traveled all the way to Guanlan Teahouse.

It happened to be a crisp autumn day when most people had gone to the Qinhuai River or to nearby mountains to admire osmanthus flowers and visit temples. The teahouse was quiet with few patrons, and rarely did anyone rent out the entire floor. Upon seeing customers arrive, the proprietor was absolutely beaming with joy.

This teahouse was arranged with considerable refined taste.

On the second floor, a space near the railing had been specially set aside as a musical platform, with a qin table placed there, a qin displayed on the table, and an incense burner positioned in the corner burning a rather decent grade of agarwood.

However, with few customers at present, there was no qin master performing.

Jiang Xuening came to wait for someone and didn’t want to be disturbed. She dismissed the tea servers who came to attend to guests and didn’t call for the qin master either. She simply found a book to read to pass the time, waiting for the discussions in Qingyuan Garden to conclude so she could meet Lu Xian.

Wei Liang was utterly bored.

The bookshelves held nothing but classics, histories, philosophical texts, poetry and songs—subjects for which he had not the slightest interest. After enduring half a cup of tea, he stood up then sat down again, pacing from one end to the other. With absolutely nothing to do, he felt that with so few people in the teahouse, he couldn’t even find an opportunity to slip away in the confusion.

Though the scenery was beautiful, he felt constrained.

After wandering about for quite some time, he only walked to the railing to look outside.

Unexpectedly, when he turned his head back, he caught sight of that qin.

Farming was what he loved, studying was what he hated. One could say he detested all refined pursuits and preferred vulgar matters.

But the qin was an exception.

In his past days of studying, he had particularly favored this art. Now with nothing to do, seeing this qin made his fingers itch somewhat. Glancing at Jiang Xuening reading her book nearby with no apparent intention of paying attention to him, he walked onto the musical platform and sat before the qin table.

The teahouse was nothing special, so naturally the qin wasn’t a particularly fine instrument either.

But after initially plucking the strings to test the sound, it wasn’t too bad after all.

Wei Liang casually played a piece.

Jiang Xuening had been reading her book, but thinking about the upcoming meeting with Lu Xian, most of her attention wasn’t on the book. She was pondering what to discuss and how to discuss it, so she couldn’t really concentrate on reading.

When she suddenly heard the qin music begin, she was momentarily startled.

Looking up, she discovered it was actually Wei Liang playing the qin.

He was playing the piece “Qingping Melody,” which represented the saying “wind rises from the earth, beginning at the tips of duckweed.” Playing it at this height during this crisp autumn season suddenly harmonized with her current state of mind.

Troubled autumn days—when else would the wind rise if not now?

Jiang Xuening set down the book she had only turned a few pages of and listened quietly as Wei Liang finished playing before saying: “So Master Wei also knows how to play the qin.”

Wei Liang had played purely on a whim without intending for her to listen. Looking up to see her gazing at him with tender eyes, somehow a surge of heat rushed to his face, giving him an awkward sense of showing off before others. In his fluster, he immediately stood up and explained: “Having nothing to do, my skills are quite crude—I fear polluting Miss’s refined ears.”

He rose too hastily, and his sleeve caught on the corner of the table.

The qin on the table was knocked askew.

Jiang Xuening couldn’t help but laugh: “When I play the qin myself, that’s when I truly pollute others’ ears. Master Wei’s performance was excellent—how could I mean to laugh at you?”

Wei Liang couldn’t find words to respond.

He had never been particularly eloquent. After standing there for quite a while, he stammered: “Do you also love the qin?”

Love the qin?

She wouldn’t dare.

Jiang Xuening lowered her eyelids, set down her book, walked closer, and only straightened the displaced qin, saying: “My skills are crude, and I lack a pure heart—I’m not worthy of playing the qin.”

Wei Liang couldn’t help but freeze.

The woman before him stood on the other side of the musical platform, her slightly lowered gaze seeming to conceal something. Her slender fingers rested on the edge of the qin in a manner that clearly belonged to someone who understood the way of this instrument. A subtle fragrance of blue lotus drifted from her sleeves, adding a captivating coolness to her vivid features.

But didn’t this employer love money above all else?

How could she seem anything like a merchant reeking of copper right now?

His gaze fell upon Jiang Xuening, momentarily confused.

However, Jiang Xuening was recalling certain people and events from the past. She frowned slightly and was just about to withdraw her hand from the qin when a young servant hurried up from downstairs: “Miss, Miss!”

She started: “Have the discussions at Qingyuan Garden concluded?”

But the young servant pointed outside, saying: “No, someone outside says they want to see you.”

In this area of Jinling, she knew very few people.

With the discussions at Qingyuan Garden not yet concluded, the one seeking her wouldn’t be Lu Xian.

Jiang Xuening immediately felt this was strange. Standing already on the second-floor musical platform, almost instinctively following the direction the young servant pointed, she looked down toward the roadside below the teahouse. In that brief moment when her gaze fell, her entire form became as rigid as if struck by thunder!

She almost couldn’t believe her own eyes.

The first thought that emerged in her mind was—

Impossible.

From the capital to Jinling, from north to south, over two thousand li of distance—how many swift horses would need to be changed along the way, how many days of sleeplessness endured, to fly across numerous passes in these mere ten or so days and arrive in Jiangnan?

Wei Liang had been standing with his back to the railing. Seeing Jiang Xuening looking down with an unusual expression, he couldn’t help but turn to look as well.

He saw that at some point, a group of over ten people had arrived roadside.

Most rode on horses, wearing fitted travel clothes, with lean physiques. However, most showed fatigue on their faces, as if they had rushed all the way from very far, experiencing considerable hardship during a not-brief journey. Even their lips were somewhat pale and chapped.

A young man in blue robes nearby had already dismounted.

Though this group was numerous, they made not half a sound of commotion.

Even the horses were very quiet.

Though Wei Liang was slow, he could still perceive something extraordinary, not to mention the person at the very front, who truly made one’s heart tremble to behold.

And Jiang Xuening’s gaze was fixed precisely on this person.

Two years had passed, yet this Lesser Teacher of the current dynasty seemed not to have changed much.

He still favored that snow-white Daoist robe.

However, the long days of hard riding seemed to have made him considerably thinner. The white horse’s four hooves were splattered with mud, and the clean robe hem was stained throughout. His right hand’s five fingers gripped the reins tightly, so that they were already covered with layer upon layer of bloody marks. Yet he himself seemed to have no awareness of any pain whatsoever. His impassive face lifted up, looking toward Jiang Xuening above.

When Wei Liang’s gaze fell upon him, his gaze also lightly turned over to meet Wei Liang’s.

In that instant, Wei Liang felt a chill of alarm.

It was clearly such a calm and waveless, even silent and traceless glance, yet he seemed to glimpse within it hidden wind and raging rain, sword shadows and blade light. However, upon recovering his wits, those eyes were once again lofty and deeply serene like a deity’s, not stained with half a speck of dust as they moved away.

Previously, Lu Xian had asked him: though I know you’re not that kind of person, if she were to leave and never return to the capital, would you simply let it be?

He had not answered.

Because he knew that kites always fly into the sky, but as long as the string tethering them remains unbroken, no matter how far they fly, they will ultimately return. Her promise to Grand Princess Shen Zhiyi was that string. Only with this string could he justifiably pull the kite back, or follow along this string to search for her.

Xie Wei felt himself like a madman.

Coming thousands of li.

Only at this moment did he remember that he hadn’t closed his eyes for several days, and thus suddenly felt an indescribable weariness. Without speaking, withdrawing his gaze, he was about to call for people to depart.

Jiang Xuening naturally noticed that momentary gaze he directed at Wei Liang. Originally, she didn’t feel she had done anything wrong, yet when he lowered his brows and cast down his eyes at that moment, for some reason she developed a sense of guilt that shouldn’t have been there.

Simultaneously, she had myriad questions—

At this juncture, why would Xie Wei come looking for her?

Seeing the other party about to leave, in that moment she couldn’t afford to think much. The words escaped her lips: “Teacher!”

Xie Wei stopped.

Jiang Xuening, concerned about Shen Zhiyi, gritted her teeth. Without minding Wei Liang’s astonished gaze beside her, she lifted her skirt hem and went straight downstairs, arriving before Xie Wei’s horse. Looking up at him, she opened her mouth but suddenly didn’t know what to say.

Sunlight spilled all over him.

The soiled robe hem was lifted by the wind.

Yet Xie Wei’s brows and eyes, like distant mountains in pale ink, were obscured by the backlighting around him. His expression also couldn’t be clearly seen. He only looked down at her with lowered eyelids. After quite a while, he handed toward her a page of paper he’d been holding between his fingers for a moment, saying with neither wave nor ripple: “Departing for the border in three days. If you’ve considered it carefully, you may go together.”

How could she dare show half a moment’s negligence now?

Using both hands to receive that thin single page of paper, when her gaze fell, she discovered the marks left by the reins on the edges of Xie Wei’s fingers.

In her mind flashed the image of that day when she struggled free from this hand—that blood dripping profusely to the ground.

Jiang Xuening didn’t dare look at Xie Wei.

Xie Wei also said nothing more to her.

She only heard the sound of reins stirring. Mud-covered horse hooves stepped across the ground. Daoqin hurriedly gave her a bow before immediately mounting his horse and leading everyone to follow as they departed into the distance.

Wei Liang watched from the second floor, completely bewildered.

The sound of horse hooves faded into the distance. The street before them was empty and deserted.

Yet Jiang Xuening felt as if she had experienced a great dream.

Only this single page of paper in her hands reminded her that what just occurred was not an illusion.

She slowly unfolded the page.