He begged Master to give him one more chance. Master nodded in agreement, but after a few days, his old habits returned.

This time, Master didn’t beat or scold him—just tossed down ten taels of silver and pushed him out directly.

Ten taels of silver could buy many sheep. Take it home to buy sheep for his parents—sheep would birth lambs, lambs would birth more lambs, and the family could eat white rice.

He excitedly turned to leave. But as he walked, his heart inexplicably grew anxious. The further he walked, the more panicked he felt, as if his chest had suddenly opened a hole, whistling as it leaked air.

He gritted his teeth and ran back.

When he reached the door, he heard qin music. With a whoosh, tears flowed from his eyes.

“Yan Sanhe, you know there’s a kind of qin music in this world so sorrowful it can twist your internal organs into knots. Your tears will flow uncontrollably.

You even feel there’s nothing left in this world worth clinging to… utter despair.”

Dong Chengfeng closed his eyes.

From that qin music, he heard Master’s bitterness, Master’s difficulties. He also heard the wounds and pain on Master’s dark, endless life path that no one could speak of.

In that moment, he suddenly wanted to learn qin properly.

Not just for that white fluffy rice, but because one day he wanted to hear some happiness from Master’s qin music.

“My master was born into a prominent family. By the time he was born, the family fortunes had long since declined eight hundred years ago. But the family still put on airs of nobility with excessively strict rules.

His parents died early. As eldest son and grandson, to support the family he became a qin master. But the family members spent the silver he earned while looking down on him for being a qin master and bringing shame to the family.”

Yan Sanhe couldn’t help interjecting: “How do qin masters make a living?”

“By playing qin for nobility. Frankly, not much different from courtesans—just selling one’s art for money. Looks refined, but actually they’re just playthings in nobles’ hands.”

Dong Chengfeng raised an eyebrow, his expression somewhat frivolous. “Occasionally when a noble takes a fancy, one can only sell one’s body too.”

Yan Sanhe didn’t know what to say.

“When my master was young, he was handsome—delicate skin and tender flesh. Nobles all liked him greatly. Among them was someone powerful and influential who treated him very well, willing to pile gold mountains and silver mountains before him. My master went with him.”

Dong Chengfeng sneered coldly. “After a few years, the noble tired of him and kicked my master aside with one foot. When he returned home, he happened upon his youngest sister’s wedding.

By rights, as her elder brother, he should have carried her out the door. But his sister feared what her in-laws might think and stubbornly refused to let him carry her, wouldn’t even let him escort the bride.

Laughable, isn’t it?

The family’s food, clothing, housing, living expenses—all supplied by him. All his sister’s dowry—paid for with his silver. In the end they still found him disgraceful.

My master was utterly despairing. He dusted off his bottom and left, taking nothing—just the seven-stringed qin on his back.”

Yan Sanhe also sneered coldly. “This fulfills an old saying: don’t feed dogs too full, don’t treat people too well.”

“Looking back now, it was a good thing. Precisely because of that incident, I met him. I should thank his whole family.”

Dong Chengfeng smiled indifferently.

“A fortune teller said my master had three calamities in life: one for family, one for love, one for disciples. All damn accurate.”

He knelt for three days and nights before Master’s heart softened.

From then on, he seemed like a changed person. Every day his bottom never left the bench, playing until his ten fingers bled.

Master beat him less and less, smiled more and more. Every night, he’d bring a basin of hot water for him to soak his hands.

While soaking, Master sometimes explained qin theory, sometimes shared life experiences.

He always listened drowsily, thinking: These are your old man’s experiences, not mine. Why should I listen?

Master would then thump him on the head, cursing that he was an ingrate who didn’t recognize good intentions—he could avoid so many detours in life!

Yan Sanhe: “Your master treated you as his own son.”

Dong Chengfeng closed his eyes, sighing softly and low. “Of course—he needed me to care for him in old age!”

Yan Sanhe: “Did you?”

“I did!”

After master and disciple spent over ten years quietly in the deep mountains in three stone rooms, he grew up and Master grew old.

“Later my master fell ill. After two years of medicine with no improvement, one afternoon he said he wanted to play qin. I helped him to the courtyard.”

Dong Chengfeng’s eyes suddenly dimmed.

“He played half a piece when the qin string suddenly broke. He smiled, settled his affairs with me, and departed freely that night.”

Yan Sanhe: “Then you went to Jinling?”

“First returned home to see my parents and brothers. Originally wanted to go forward and acknowledge them, but suddenly felt it meaningless. After watching from afar for a bit, I left.”

“Why meaningless?”

“I’d forgotten past events. Only remembered playing wildly on the grasslands. What Father looked like, what Mother looked like, what my brothers looked like—all forgotten.”

Dong Chengfeng’s brows lowered. “But Master—close my eyes and his face is before me. Can’t forget for a moment.”

After pausing briefly, he added:

“In my master’s words: even blood parents and blood brothers calculate in their bellies. If it feels comfortable, spend more time together. If uncomfortable, keep your distance. Anyone can survive without anyone else.”

Yan Sanhe: “Your master was a clear-sighted person.”

“Without being clear-sighted, would he have had me?”

Dong Chengfeng smiled. “Said it was for old-age care, but he gave me all his qin skills and everything he owned. Spared me so much suffering!”

Yan Sanhe immediately thought of Yan Xing, her eyes slightly warming.

“By the way, going to Jinling Prefecture was my master’s idea.”

Yan Sanhe immediately pulled herself from her emotions. “Why?”

“My master said a good qin master must roll and struggle through the worldly dust. In the deep mountains one can only practice qin technique.”

Seeing Yan Sanhe didn’t quite understand, Dong Chengfeng spoke more directly.

“You must experience things—taste sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, joy, anger, sorrow, happiness. Only then will your music have feeling. With feeling, you can be called a qin master. Otherwise you’re just someone who plays qin.

When Master was alive, my qin music had at most a hint of nostalgia and farewell—far from enough.

He said the most prosperous place in the world is none other than Jiangnan. In Jiangnan, the most prosperous is Jinling Prefecture’s Qinhuai River. Chengfeng, go frolic on that Qinhuai River!”

“I’m guessing your master was from Jinling in Jiangnan?”

“Clever girl.”

Dong Chengfeng lifted his eyelids to look at her, speaking meaningfully. “He was from Jinling. His home was on Wuyi Lane. Surname Wang.”

Yan Sanhe’s heart jumped in alarm.

“In olden times, swallows before Wang and Xie halls / Flew into ordinary people’s homes”—

This poem spoke of the great changes to the two powerful families of the Jin Dynasty, the Wang clan and Xie clan.

Supposedly, after the Rebellion of the Eight Princes, one branch each of the Wang and Xie clans later migrated to Jinling Prefecture and settled in Wuyi Lane.

So Dong Chengfeng’s master was actually a descendant of the Wang family. No wonder he could be both qin master and strategist.

The Wang family had always been renowned for their strategic cunning since ancient times.

Yan Sanhe couldn’t help examining Dong Chengfeng carefully again. After a long while, she said: “You truly have good fortune.”

Not just clever—seems she’d read quite a few books too.

How would ordinary women know these historical references?

After this small test, Dong Chengfeng felt quite gratified as he gulped down more wine.

The wine flowed down his throat. Wherever it went, a flame quickly sprang up, burning so his internal organs felt ironed smooth.

Girl, you also have good fortune!