◎”Song of the King of Yue’s Sword” – Dying for Him◎

Zheng Biyue’s focus was on Li Guiyu, motivated by jealousy and rivalry, so she should know nothing about Lu Lingchan’s matters.

Li Guiyu today seemed to have come for her, aiming to determine her identity, while Lu Lingchan’s affairs appeared unimportant to him.

The one truly obstructing her departure here was Wang Yunzhi.

Looking at Wang Yunzhi’s indifferent gaze, Luo Wanqing smiled.

She raised her hand and swept her sleeve, then, under everyone’s gaze, completely unbothered, began playing the hoarse qin directly.

The sound was like a saw cutting wood, jarring and harsh. After only two notes, people below began shouting: “Stop this! Miss Liu, if you can’t play, don’t play. This is a gathering of friends through music. If you’re not sincere, you needn’t have come.”

Luo Wanqing’s movements paused slightly, then she turned toward the speaker and said directly: “My qin is broken.”

“Then get down.” Wang Yunzhi spoke coldly. Luo Wanqing turned to look and saw Wang Yunzhi staring at her, seemingly warning: “Return to your seat and listen properly to others play.”

“But I want to play?” Luo Wanqing smiled: “Today’s rules only say those who play poorly must be expelled from the banquet, not that those who play poorly cannot play, right? If everyone finds my playing too unpleasant,” Luo Wanqing started to rise, “then I’ll simply leave.”

“Wait.”

Just as Luo Wanqing stood up, Wang Yunzhi also rose. She looked calmly at Luo Wanqing and only said, “Since Miss Liu wants to play, let me exchange pointers with Miss Liu.”

Luo Wanqing’s movements halted as she looked coldly over, hearing Wang Yunzhi ask: “Isn’t your qin skill supposed to be superb, noble and pure?”

These praises sounded like mockery. Another man in the crowd stood up, laughing: “Such talent—I too would be honored to meet her. Miss Liu, might I exchange pointers with you?”

“Me too.”

“I’d also like to.”

…

Once Wang Yunzhi stood up, people who had been chatting and laughing in the crowd gradually rose, until seven people were standing.

Musical competitions occurred at Qinyın Festivals, but such direct provocation was unprecedented.

Everyone fell quiet, sensing the wrong atmosphere. Luo Wanqing looked up at Wang Yunzhi, knowing she didn’t intend to let her leave.

According to the rules, if someone played solo and performed poorly, they could leave. But if they lost a musical duel, the winner decided whether they stayed or went.

Not to mention her hastily learned qin skills would likely lose to Wang Yunzhi, a noble lady trained from childhood. Even if she could win, facing so many people one by one would take considerable time.

She didn’t have that much time.

Wang Yunzhi’s goal was to delay her.

She didn’t know the situation outside. If the Empress’s people were more ruthless, Xing Ling and the others might be in danger.

She needed to get out quickly.

The only way out was to win quickly.

She couldn’t win at Qin. Her only chance was with the pipa.

Thinking this, Luo Wanqing turned to look at the pipa beside Li Guiyu.

When their eyes met, Luo Wanqing understood—this was probably Li Guiyu’s ultimate purpose.

He had heard her play the pipa for Cui Heng that night. Today, he wanted final confirmation.

She stared quietly at Li Guiyu, who also watched her, his gaze actually seeming nervous, as if he himself didn’t know what to do now.

Looking at his expression, Luo Wanqing couldn’t help smiling mockingly.

Wasn’t he just suspicious of her identity, wanting verification?

But even if she played the pipa, could he be certain?

Even if certain, could he kill her?

Luo Wanqing’s expression turned cold. Not wanting to entangle with them further, she said directly: “I’m honored by everyone’s favor, but I’m not skilled at qin. If we’re to compete, may I use pipa instead?”

Hearing this, Xie Heng frowned slightly.

With that, Luo Wanqing scanned everyone, finally looking at the pipa beside Li Guiyu, saying calmly: “The pipa beside Your Highness—might I borrow it?”

Li Guiyu remained silent, staring coldly at her.

For a moment, his eyes held nothing but the veiled woman reaching toward him from the heights.

Her figure overlapped with memories from youth. Though her temperament now was completely different from then, so gentle back then, soft and bright when she smiled, while now she was cool and distant all over, looking at him with alienation and separation.

Yet he felt no difference at all.

She stood before him, asking for the pipa, but he thought of words she’d said many years ago.

“Shaoyan, no matter how we fight in the future, no matter what hurtful things I say, if I play the pipa for you, it means I miss you.”

“As long as I play the pipa, you come find me and we make up, alright?”

She was asking him for the pipa.

Li Guiyu smiled.

His heart trembled slightly, fingers curling, as he forcibly restrained the urge to step forward, only asking: “Are you certain you want this pipa?”

Hearing this, Wang Yunzhi sensed something wrong and immediately looked warningly at Li Guiyu.

However, Li Guiyu didn’t move.

“Naturally.”

Luo Wanqing confirmed firmly.

Li Guiyu chuckled softly. Wang Yunzhi immediately realized Li Guiyu’s emotions were off and simply used a hidden blade to slash at the pipa’s surface.

However, Li Guiyu’s expression didn’t change as he raised his hand to cover the surface, silently catching the blade in his fingers.

“Your Highness?”

Wang Yunzhi’s voice carried warning. Li Guiyu didn’t respond, only stared at Luo Wanqing, raising his hand to toss the pipa toward the high platform, saying coolly: “Take it.”

Xie Heng’s gaze suddenly turned cold, while Wang Yunzhi showed shock and anger.

Luo Wanqing caught the flying pipa with one hand, spinning with the momentum before sitting down. Holding the pipa, she looked up, scanned her surroundings once, and said simply: “The banquet time is limited—no need to delay everyone. Why don’t you all come together?”

This catch was extremely graceful, making everyone present show some amazement, though thinking of her Supervision Department identity, they all suppressed it.

“So arrogant?”

One woman frowned.

Luo Wanqing plucked the strings. She hadn’t guessed wrong—Li Guiyu’s pipa was indeed superb. Lowering her head, she only said: “Begin.”

Her initiative to face multiple opponents alone meant that if others refused, they’d appear cowardly.

Wang Yunzhi glared fiercely at Li Guiyu before stepping onto the platform.

Once Wang Yunzhi mounted the stage, the other men and women followed, surrounding Luo Wanqing as they sat down with their own instruments brought by servants.

Luo Wanqing tuned first, then heard Wang Yunzhi begin.

She played a light, cheerful melody—”White Snow,” a piece most everyone knew. She began, with others following her lead.

Each person’s qin had its charm, but at this moment, everyone chose to complement Wang Yunzhi.

Spring snow, fresh and flowing, all things bursting with life—the qin music enveloped everyone in the elegantly refined music typical of nobles.

Hearing this music, Luo Wanqing directly plucked her pipa strings. “Guangling San” poured forth with passionate intensity, like a sharp blade directly tearing through this joyful music.

Like a long spear picking up the scattered spring snow and flinging it away, splashing everyone’s faces with snow.

Luo Wanqing lowered her head to pluck strings, her music mournful and desolate.

She deliberately suppressed the ending notes, not letting them rise. Li Guiyu quietly watched her plucking motions, watching her finger joints, listening to the story in her music.

Nie Zheng avenged his father, studying the qin for ten years, assassinating the King of Han, and dying. To avoid implicating his family, he disfigured himself before death, his body exposed on the street with no one recognizing him. His sister came to identify the corpse, wailing until death.

“Guangling San” was composed for this reason—passionate and magnificent in spirit.

Her qin music was passionate and magnificent, but Wang Yunzhi had learned from masters and possessed firm resolve. No matter how Luo Wanqing’s music played, she could steadily hold her position.

The two melodies mixed without a clear victor.

On one side was spring snow full of vitality.

On the other hand was a desperate advance toward death.

One side nobles toasting and celebrating the spring snow.

The other student qin ten years for one strike.

After just two passages of conflict, Luo Wanqing knew that in pure technique, she couldn’t overpower Wang Yunzhi.

“If your Qin skills are lacking, use sincerity to make up for it.”

Cui Heng’s voice echoed in her mind.

Luo Wanqing closed her eyes.

The King of Han killed his father, and Nie Zheng’s rage at the injustice.

“Your father is dead. Last night, I gave him the pottery shard.”

“Today’s Great Xia won’t be moved by one commoner’s death to implicate a Minister or even a Prince.”

“As you wished—blood debt paid in blood.”

Once memories opened, they were like a rolling tide, instantly drowning her.

Her qin wasn’t a qin but like a sharp sword—all those long-suppressed emotions erupted in an instant.

Her acceptance of Zhang Jiuran’s internal force’s pain, the agony of disfigurement, bone reconstruction’s injury, and the grief of losing friends, all finally transformed into a blade fiercely slashing the Crown Prince’s throat.

Blood splattered out, spilling on white snow.

Her music continuously accelerated, growing more resounding. Li Guiyu listened to that Qin voice and felt it like a blade, cutting stroke by stroke at him and the Luo Wanqing in his memory.

Slicing him to pieces, carving Luo Wanqing stroke by stroke into her current appearance.

Though the music contained killing intent, he heard pain in it.

Luo Wanqing was someone so afraid of pain.

Every time she got a scratch, her face would pale. She’d want candy when medicine was too bitter, couldn’t even drink slightly hot water.

She was such a pampered young lady.

She…

Li Guiyu dared not think further.

Everyone heard the killing intent in the music, gradually hearing the qin music behind Wang Yunzhi break off one by one. Those with weak resolve had already lost rhythm and couldn’t continue playing.

Seeing people leaving one by one, Zheng Biyue suddenly rose, embracing her qin as she came down to sit before Wang Yunzhi.

She raised her hand to brush the long qin, beginning with the most technically difficult piece for guqin—”Misty Waters of the Xiao and Xiang Rivers.”

Wang Yunzhi met her gaze and lowered her sound, beginning to complement Zheng Biyue.

“Misty Waters of the Xiao and Xiang Rivers” depicts the confluence of the Xiao and Xiang rivers, gazing at Jiuyi Mountain shrouded in mist and water, with churning clouds and a magnificent atmosphere.

This piece implied broken mountains and rivers, drifting times. Not only did it require a higher technique than Guangling San, but its scope of home and country would also be elevated.

Once Zheng Biyue joined, Luo Wanqing’s music was immediately suppressed somewhat.

Luo Wanqing opened her eyes, meeting Zheng Biyue’s cold gaze.

In that instant, she suddenly wanted very much to ask:

Whose idea was the Luo family case?

What had she done? What punishment should she receive?

She stared at Zheng Biyue, who showed no avoidance, killing intent flowing in her eyes.

If initially she’d only wanted to embarrass this minor Inspector, now she truly harbored killing intent.

A woman who’d crawled up from death row, as lowly as Luo Wanqing, just because she had a face—what right did she have to compete with her?

Li Guiyu was Wang family heir with great reputation, honored as imperial family and deeply favored. Now with her Zheng family’s support, his future ascension was within reach.

She didn’t care about Li Guiyu, didn’t love any man—she just wanted the most noble position among women in this world.

She was willing to favor Li Guiyu—that was Li Guiyu’s fortune. How dare he look at other women?

Then she’d destroy everyone he cared about.

Zheng Biyue’s heart was cold and angry, thinking only:

He loved one, she’d destroy one, until he obediently became her puppet.

Luo Wanqing was such.

This Liu Xiniang was the same.

Zheng Biyue hid killing intent in her qin as cloud-water crashed down and Jiuyi Mountain majestically broke through clouds.

Mountains and rivers unrolled—instantly, those personal grudges of Guangling San seemed so remote and humble.

In qin technique, Zheng Biyue had always been peerless in the Eastern Capital, with none but Xie Heng able to match her.

Luo Wanqing struggled to follow a passage before knowing that continuing would be futile.

She had only one piece with such a technique.

Thinking of this piece, she couldn’t help glancing at Li Guiyu.

Li Guiyu quietly gazed at her, seemingly already knowing this outcome.

After looking at each other briefly, she looked away and struck up the melody.

Nothing was more important than quickly leaving to find Xing Ling and complete the mission.

It was just one song.

Thinking coolly, she began playing “Song of the King of Yue’s Sword” that she’d specifically learned from that woman by the railing in Jiangnan.

This piece was rarely known but extremely difficult. She’d performed it countless times for Li Guiyu, polishing it again and again.

She didn’t know how many times she’d played it these five years.

When this melody began, Li Guiyu smiled.

He looked up at the woman on stage—familiar melody, completely different style.

But the moment she plucked the strings, he was certain.

It was her.

Definitely her.

His eyes showed moisture as he stared fixedly at the person on stage.

Luo Wanqing lowered her head to pluck strings.

Back then, she didn’t understand “Song of the King of Yue’s Sword.”

She didn’t understand what hatred was for a destroyed country, what was sleeping on brushwood and tasting gall, what was “a gentleman’s revenge is never too late, even after ten years.”

Back then, she’d only learned because he liked it.

Now she finally understood.

National hatred and family revenge, endless killing—horse hooves trampling Xiao-Xiang river water, long spears cleaving cloud-water and long rivers.

Unlike Nie Zheng’s common man’s rage bloodying three feet, the King of Yue’s sword pointed at mountains and rivers with royal authority—golden spears and iron horses, never-ending unto death.

She knew Li Guiyu was watching her, but dared not look back, only closing her eyes as her fingers plucked rapidly.

The melody grew more passionate. In this suppressed, desperate music, she suddenly understood Li Guiyu.

Enduring humiliation under an enemy’s account for over ten years—what couldn’t be sacrificed?

Having paid so much for the initially decided matter, how could anyone turn back?

She’d scraped skin and reshaped bones to today. In the future, no matter the cost, only achieving her goal wouldn’t waste the past.

And Li Guiyu back then—wasn’t it just the same?

Nothing couldn’t be done.

No one could be abandoned.

Luo Wanqing’s breathing grew rapid as she momentarily forgot everything.

She only let loose the thousands of troops covering the country in the music.

Then what?

She felt like she stood on the city walls of broken mountains and rivers, looking blankly at heaven and earth.

Where should she go?

Regardless of everything for revenge, fighting with her whole life, when it came to this moment, where should she go?

She was panicked and lost, with nowhere to turn.

The music grew more frenzied. Li Guiyu quietly gazed at her, his heartstrings tightening with hers.

He couldn’t save her—they were both drowning people; nobody could save anybody.

She’d come; she’d finally walked the same path as him. He wasn’t alone.

In this music, Li Guiyu smiled somewhat madly as he stared at the person on stage. He wanted to rush up, to embrace her, to celebrate this moment of mutual destruction, to ask why she’d come.

He smiled, looking up while Xie Heng also quietly gazed at her. Hearing the music, he called to Qingya beside him: “Bring my qin.”

Luo Wanqing’s pipa completely suppressed the entire venue. Wang Yunzhi’s qin sound was first to fall into chaos as she raised her hand to stop the strings.

Zheng Biyue’s expression also turned ugly. She struggled to follow for a while, but Luo Wanqing’s music had completely lost all restraint. The killing intent pressed down overwhelmingly. Zheng Biyue’s music became chaotic and unsustainable. She maintained her face while struggling to conclude. Just then, from the high platform came a simple Jiangnan melody.

The simplest tune, yet it instantly brought people to Jiangnan spring days, boating on lakes with weeping willows.

Everyone looked up to see Xie Heng sitting on the high platform with a qin across his knees.

Summer sunlight fell from the window outside. The young master’s expression was gentle, sunlight falling on his jade-white fingers as if carrying warmth.

The Qin music drifted, and guests from other areas also rose.

“Is that Xie Lingshu?”

Someone skilled at the qin asked in amazement. Xie Yushu was holding a wine cup with closed eyes, listening. Hearing this, he immediately opened his eyes, rushed away, then quickly ran back, excitedly saying: “It’s Seventh Brother! It’s him!”

“Six years.” Someone was shocked. “He’s finally touching Qin again?”

“Why waste words—hurry, go look!”

People from other courtyards, hearing the news, rushed over.

Meanwhile, Xie Heng thought of nothing.

He plucked the strings, using that night’s image of gifts exchanged by the long railing with pipa melody to suppress the blood filling his vision.

After six years, he played the qin again.

He only thought—he would catch her.

She wasn’t Goujian, much less Fuchai.

If heaven wouldn’t ferry and gods and Buddhas wouldn’t befriend, even if the road ended, Xie Heng would step out on a path to bring her back to the right way.

Author’s Note:

[Mini Theater] Xie Heng: “You want to play miserable? I’ll join too! Inspector, I’m so pitiful, please feel sorry for me…” Luo Wanqing: “Alright, I feel sorry for you.” Xie Heng (blushing): “Never mind… seems I can’t lower my face enough. This path doesn’t suit me.”