Jiang Youyao gracefully ascended the examination platform.
It was already early August. Though still midsummer, today brought fine weather. Rain had fallen throughout the night, yet the sky hadn’t cleared. With only the cool morning breeze blowing, Jiang Youyao appeared like a flower bud about to bloom in the fresh morning—like a pink lotus, delicate, bright, and beautiful, trembling as it opened.
Ji Shuran had specially dressed her today. Her misty rose-colored dress made even the morning seem vivid and charming. She truly resembled a refined young lady raised in a wealthy, prominent household, exquisite and delicate in every gesture.
The noble ladies around appropriately cast envious glances at Ji Shuran, who smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. Even the Ji family members on the other side felt honored by association—if even their granddaughter was this outstanding, no wonder Imperial Concubine Li received special favor from the Hongxiao Emperor.
Zhou Yanbang was also among the crowd. After Jiang Youyao took the stage, whether intentionally or not, she deliberately glanced in his direction. She seemed quite bashful, only taking a quick peek before looking away.
However, busybodies caught everything and immediately teased Zhou Yanbang, calling out, “Third Miss Jiang is going up!”
The engagement between Jiang Youyao and Zhou Yanbang, heir to Marquis Ningyuan, was known to almost all the official families in Yanjing City. Zhou Yanbang smiled, though his smile seemed somewhat forced.
The beauty remained as lively and lovely as before, but his heart had already flown elsewhere. He couldn’t help but look to the other side, toward Jiang Li’s direction. He saw Jiang Li turning her head, speaking with a friend beside her, completely unaware of his gaze.
Zhou Yanbang’s heart suddenly surged with a bittersweet sweetness. In this moment, he suddenly understood what happiness in unrequited love meant—more torturous than anything else, yet more anticipated than everything else.
In fact, Jiang Li hadn’t failed to notice Zhou Yanbang’s gaze. She felt both irritated and amused. The real Second Miss Jiang had drowned and died tragically because of Zhou Yanbang. If the Marquis Ningyuan household had shown even half a care for this unbetrothed fiancée, even just asked one question, Second Miss Jiang’s days wouldn’t have been so difficult. Unfortunately, they hadn’t. Now Second Miss Jiang had long since passed away, yet Zhou Yanbang still played the devoted lover—it was simply disgusting.
Jiang Li didn’t want to bother with him at all.
Just as she was thinking this, Liu Xu beside her suddenly said, “Look, it’s about to start.”
On stage, Jiang Youyao had just finished washing her hands. She performed all these actions very naturally and elegantly. To be fair, Jiang Li thought that at least regarding Jiang Youyao’s qin music appearance, it truly wasn’t bad.
Immediately after, Jiang Youyao smiled sweetly, her jade-like fingers falling on the seven-stringed qin, plucking the first string.
Jiang Li said, “It’s ‘Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank.'”
Liu Xu was startled. “How do you know?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, the qin notes at Jiang Youyao’s fingertips cascaded like flowing water. The qin notes rang clearly—it truly was “Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank.”
Liu Xu was somewhat dumbfounded. She asked, “Have you heard Jiang Youyao play this at the mansion before? Did you already know she would play this piece?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Then how did you hear that she was playing ‘Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank’? She just started.”
“Just watch her movements and you’ll know. Besides, one note is enough.” Jiang Li spoke very casually.
Liu Xu didn’t feel casual hearing this at all. She looked Jiang Li up and down for a while before saying in a low voice, “Don’t deceive me. You’ve also studied qin music before, haven’t you? Perhaps your qin music is quite good? But how could there be a qin music teacher at Qingcheng Mountain? Could you be a genius?”
Jiang Li found this both funny and exasperating. She said, “It’s really not that difficult.” As she spoke, she again sensed someone staring at her. Looking out, she met Ye Shijie’s distant gaze.
Seeing her look over, Ye Shijie immediately looked away, which surprised Jiang Li somewhat.
After looking away, Ye Shijie felt his previous action seemed like trying to cover up something, and for a moment felt annoyed with himself. He thought he truly had nothing better to do than worry about Jiang Li making a fool of herself today. That woman was quite calculating with many hidden cards—who knew what incomprehensible thing she would do today? Why should he meddle unnecessarily?
“Brother Ye, what are you looking at?” Someone beside him spoke—it was Li Lian, the youngest son of Right Chancellor Li Zhongnan.
Ye Shijie turned back and said, “Just looking around casually.” Ever since Jiang Li had reminded him that Liu Zimin and Li Lian had a close relationship, and that Li Lian’s attempts to win him over might have ulterior motives, Ye Shijie had deliberately distanced himself from Li Lian.
Li Lian noticed Ye Shijie’s attitude. He smiled without saying anything, but after Ye Shijie turned his head away, a flash of inquiry crossed his gaze.
On stage, Jiang Youyao played the qin very well.
“Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank” depicted wild geese flying through the autumn sky, sometimes circling, sometimes looking around. The ancient saying goes, “Capturing the desolate feeling of clear autumn, the wild geese flying and calling.” It embodied “the high and refreshing autumn air, the wind still and sand level, the journey of ten thousand miles through clouds, calling across the horizon, borrowing the lofty ambition of the wild swan to express the heart of the recluse.”
This melody was flowing and smooth. Jiang Li hadn’t expected that Jiang Youyao would actually choose such a piece as “Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank.” She had thought Jiang Youyao, being such a refined young lady, would play a piece with a more delicate mood. It wasn’t that women couldn’t play grand pieces, but because qin notes reflected one’s state of mind—how could Jiang Youyao’s state of mind be so grand and open?
But Jiang Youyao played quite well.
“This piece is extremely difficult. In all the years of examinations, very few people have played it, and even those who have played it did so quite ordinarily. Someone who plays it as excellently as Jiang Youyao—she’s the first.” Liu Xu murmured, “Such difficult fingering techniques, yet she managed to play them. She’s not unfamiliar with it at all.”
Hearing this, Jiang Li found it somewhat strange and asked, “Is this piece very difficult?”
“Of course!” Liu Xu immediately replied, “Among Mingyi Hall’s ten famous qin pieces, the simplest is ‘Flowing Water.’ The others in order are ‘Spring Snow,’ ‘Three Variations on Plum Blossoms,’ ‘Fisherman’s Song at Dusk,’ ‘Clouds Over the Xiao and Xiang Rivers,’ ‘Dialogue Between Fisherman and Woodcutter,’ ‘Three Refrains of Yangguan,’ ‘Guangling Melody,’ then ‘Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank.’ Come to think of it, the Startling Swan Immortal originally became famous throughout Yanjing precisely because of ‘Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank’… Oh my,” Liu Xu suddenly thought of something. “I was just thinking Jiang Youyao’s movements looked somewhat familiar. They actually resemble the Startling Swan Immortal… Could the Startling Swan Immortal have privately instructed her?”
Jiang Li understood clearly in her heart. The Jiang family could afford the price, and Ji Shuran was determined to have Jiang Youyao shine spectacularly at this examination. It wouldn’t be difficult to engage the Startling Swan Immortal.
She asked, “That’s only nine pieces.”
“The most difficult is ‘Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute.’ While ‘Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank’ at least has people playing it, just not well, ‘Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute’ has never been played at the examination grounds in all these years. Even the most accomplished students in qin arts, not even Teacher Xiao, has played it.”
Teacher Xiao naturally referred to Xiao Deyin. Jiang Li thought that Xiao Deyin had actually played it before, but Xiao Deyin excessively pursued perfection, and her “Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute” always fell just a bit short, so she simply didn’t play it before others. In private, however, to perfect “Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute,” Xiao Deyin had devoted years of painstaking effort and practice, and had even consulted her for advice.
However, with Xue Fangfei dead, no one knew these things anymore.
Jiang Youyao continued playing. The wild geese had the feeling of circling and looking around, the manner of rising and falling, the image of gathering after soaring, the spirit of startling and taking flight again. In Jiang Youyao’s qin notes, she gradually unfolded all these various attitudes of the wild geese, making people feel as if it truly were autumn, the vast sky like jade, wild geese passing without a trace.
Among the judges, Xiao Deyin’s expression stirred slightly. The Startling Swan Immortal, watching Jiang Youyao’s movements on stage, showed a trace of satisfaction in her eyes.
Then she heard someone beside her speak, “I didn’t know the Immortal had also taken on disciples?”
It was the palace musician, Mianju. Though Mianju was now about fifty years old, he still appeared as happy as a young man in his twenties, constantly cheerful. His coarse hemp garment was worn until it had faded, making him look nothing like a musician who performed for the Emperor. When he spoke, his tone carried considerable mockery, clearly disapproving of the Startling Swan Immortal’s actions.
Hearing this, the Startling Swan Immortal’s ears reddened. Jiang Youyao’s fingering techniques couldn’t be hidden from a master like Mianju—she had anticipated this long ago. Being exposed face to face still made her somewhat embarrassed and annoyed. However, since ransoming herself and marrying to become a wife, many things had changed from before. The man she married was just the son of a tea merchant, an ordinary merchant household, not a wealthy family. She naturally couldn’t continue showing her face in public, but ultimately still needed to provide for daily necessities. The silver Ji Shuran gave her was enough to keep her entire family clothed and fed without worry for several years. Therefore, she couldn’t refuse the matter of privately instructing Jiang Youyao.
Fortunately, Jiang Youyao was ultimately a decent prospect. Teaching a student with spiritual insight was always better than teaching someone with mediocre qualifications.
Then she heard Mianju say beside her, “However, this disciple of yours is really not that good.”
Even with the Startling Swan Immortal’s good temper, she felt somewhat uncomfortable now and asked, “Please instruct me, Teacher.”
“Immortal, don’t blame this old man for being presumptuous,” Mianju said with a grin. “This Third Miss Jiang has only learned the Immortal’s form, not the Immortal’s soul. The various attitudes of the flock of wild geese in ‘Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank’—your disciple plays about seventy or eighty percent correctly. However, regarding the open and cheerful spirit, she still falls far short.”
The Startling Swan Immortal felt angry inside but also knew Mianju was right. She knew about this problem with Jiang Youyao and had tried hard to help her, but in matters of qin music, teachers only taught fingering and techniques—qin heart had to be comprehended by oneself, and no one could help with that. That Jiang Youyao couldn’t comprehend qin heart was an unavoidable matter.
“However, she’s a young girl. At such a young age, without any worries, it’s quite normal that she can’t comprehend such a mood. Being able to play to this degree is already very good. If there are no accidents, today’s first place will probably be this young lady.” Mianju added with another grin.
Hearing this last sentence from Mianju, the Startling Swan Immortal’s heart finally felt somewhat better. She had never taken on disciples nor instructed anyone. If Jiang Youyao, after receiving her instruction, still failed to win first place, that would truly be laughable when word got out.
When the two spoke, neither Xiao Deyin nor Music Official Shi Yan opened their mouths. Xiao Deyin habitually protected herself wisely and didn’t speak much. Shi Yan’s arrogant personality made him too lazy to engage with them.
As for Ji Heng on the side, he propped his chin with his fan, eyes half-closed, as if taking a bored nap.
Jiang Youyao’s posture on stage was graceful, her qin notes very smooth and pleasant to hear. Combined with the extremely difficult “Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank” she played, she undoubtedly became the focal point of everyone’s gaze at the examination grounds.
“That Third Miss of the Jiang family is quite beautiful,” Li Lian suddenly remarked.
Ye Shijie felt somewhat repulsed inside. Regardless, discussing a young lady’s appearance in public was not the conduct of a gentleman. However, Li Lian’s words immediately gained agreement from others, who surprisingly began expressing their admiration for Jiang Youyao one after another.
On the other side, a young woman stared at Jiang Youyao on stage and said hatefully, “Such coquettish posturing—absolutely ugly!”
This person was Shen Ruyun.
Shen Ruyun harbored feelings for Zhou Yanbang, so naturally she had no pleasant expression for Zhou Yanbang’s fiancée, Jiang Youyao. Seeing Jiang Youyao stealing the spotlight on stage, she felt even more unwilling and jealous. Madam Shen beside her heard this and echoed, “Doesn’t seem like a good young lady from a respectable household.”
She didn’t consider that Jiang Youyao was the daughter of the current Chief Minister. Speaking of family background, the Shen family was truly a humble, small household. If not for Shen Yurun passing the top imperial examination, Shen Ruyun would need to be carefully selected even to serve as a maid for Jiang Youyao.
“She thinks she plays so well—she’s not even half as good as sister-in-law used to be.” The words slipped from Shen Ruyun’s mouth.
As soon as she spoke, Madam Shen pinched her hard. Shen Ruyun immediately realized she had said something wrong. The Shen family now never mentioned anything about Xue Fangfei. What if that person found out and became angry? It was better to be careful in everything.
Shen Ruyun fell silent.
At the Jiang family’s table, the usually silent and taciturn Jiang Yuyan couldn’t help but say, “Third Sister plays so beautifully.”
Hearing this, Jiang Yu’e felt very displeased, wondering why Jiang Yuyan was praising Jiang Youyao at this moment. However, with Ji Shuran right beside them, she also forced out a smile and said, “Of course. Third Sister has always been intelligent and particularly gifted in qin arts. Today’s first place must undoubtedly be Third Sister’s. This ‘Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank’ that others don’t dare to attempt—only our Third Sister dares, and plays it without any mistakes. I’d say in a few more years, no one in Yanjing City will be Third Sister’s match.”
Ji Shuran said, “Yu’e, don’t praise your Third Sister too much. If outsiders hear this, who knows how they’ll laugh at your Third Sister for not knowing her place. There are always people beyond people, heaven beyond heaven. Your Third Sister has much to learn in the future.”
Although she said this, Ji Shuran’s smile couldn’t be concealed, and the pride in her eyes made Jiang Yu’e find it glaring.
Jiang Yu’e thought that she herself was clearly no worse than Jiang Youyao, but just because the first branch had money and power, they could hire the best teachers. If she could also study qin like Jiang Youyao with those renowned teachers, she would naturally also be able to shine at the examination grounds.
Why wasn’t she the one born into the first branch? Why did her parents have to be from a concubine’s line? If they were commoners it would be one thing, but among the three branches of the Jiang family, why was theirs the most ordinary?
Jiang Yu’e felt extremely unwilling.
Her unwillingness went unnoticed by anyone. At this moment, Jiang Li was also watching Jiang Youyao’s examination.
“She plays… really well.” Liu Xu spoke with difficulty, seeming very reluctant to admit this fact. However, everyone’s reactions had already explained everything. Compared to last year, this year’s Jiang Youyao had ruthlessly widened the gap between herself and others.
Jiang Li said, “But she lacks qin heart.”
“Qin heart?” Liu Xu was stunned.
“When ‘Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank’ reaches the end, the composer expresses the realization that worldly affairs are treacherous, not as good as the nature of wild geese. Once settled, with sand level and water distant, the spirit content and heart idle, companions without suspicion, males and females in order. The music is peaceful, beautiful, and continuous—stillness within movement, movement within stillness, both movement and stillness appropriate, with a light and graceful manner.” Jiang Li explained in detail. “But because Jiang Youyao’s qin heart lacks a sense of ‘indifference,’ her qin notes lack a bit of ‘gracefulness.'”
Liu Xu listened carefully to Jiang Li’s words.
“My Third Sister truly plays this ‘Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank’ with consummate skill. However, even if she plays it a thousand times, or even ten thousand times, as long as she hasn’t comprehended the artistic conception and touched the qin heart, her qin notes will definitely lack something, and she won’t be the best.”
“What you say makes sense.” Listening, Liu Xu also detected the nuance, though she shook her head. “Qin heart—you make it sound easy, but how can it be so easily touched? Some qin masters, even after a lifetime, cannot reach it. I’m afraid none of the students at Mingyi Hall possess it. Comprehending artistic conception is too difficult!”
Jiang Li smiled slightly. Indeed, asking young ladies raised in boudoirs to comprehend the wild geese’s open and expansive spirit, the heroic indifference of heaven’s vastness and earth’s greatness—this seemed somewhat like asking for the impossible. Not to mention refined young ladies, even ordinary people in their later years might not encounter such things.
While they were speaking, Jiang Youyao’s qin piece was nearing its conclusion. She beautifully completed the final section of the ending notes. The qin notes stopped abruptly, and soon, waves of applause and acclaim rose throughout the examination grounds.
This hadn’t happened with the previous female students.
Jiang Youyao enjoyed this special honor immensely, smiling even more brilliantly. After performing the courtesy to the judges, she walked down from the examination platform unhurriedly.
Liu Xu was so nervous that her palms were sweating. She said to Jiang Li, “What should we do? It’s your turn.”
“It’s fine.” Jiang Li had to console her instead. “I’ll be back very soon.” As she spoke, she was about to leave when Liu Xu grabbed her sleeve.
Liu Xu said, “Wait! I haven’t asked you yet—what are you planning to play?”
Jiang Li smiled at her. “Something no one has played before.” She then left.
Liu Xu stood in place, murmuring, “Something no one has played before, no one has played before… She…” Her gaze suddenly froze, staring in disbelief at that figure heading toward the examination platform.
“No way…”
When Jiang Li went up, she happened to pass Jiang Youyao coming down. As the two crossed paths, Jiang Youyao smiled sweetly and said, “Second Sister, good luck.”
Jiang Li answered without turning her head, “Of course.”
The young attendant with the red ribbon stood on the examination platform and called out, “Number thirteen, Jiang Li.”
The entire venue fell silent.
Jiang Li walked onto the examination platform.
“Look quick, your sister is going up.” Beside Jiang Jingrui, a meddlesome youth pushed and jostled, stirring up excitement.
“Be quiet.” Jiang Jingrui was somewhat angry.
That person, seeing his expression, said strangely, “What’s this? Are you expecting your sister to play heavenly music? Second Young Master Jiang, are you unwell?”
The young men all knew about the good deed Second Miss Jiang had done eight years ago. They also knew Second Miss Jiang had spent eight years in a nunnery. Everyone tacitly agreed that Second Miss Jiang was an incompetent waste. Even if she had won first place at Mingyi Hall, it was difficult to shake this established impression for a while. Moreover, books, mathematics, and etiquette could probably be learned in a nunnery, but qin, horseback riding, and archery were not things that could be learned in a nunnery.
Jiang Jingrui’s face was dark as the bottom of a pot. Though he also felt uncertain inside, hearing others speak of Jiang Li this way made him very indignant. He angrily said, “Don’t you have eyes? Just watch and you’ll know!”
“Watch then, we’ll watch.” The youths replied with grins.
They talked animatedly amongst themselves, not noticing that the Marquis Ningyuan’s heir beside them had his gaze following Jiang Li on stage, unwilling to look away for a long time.
Jiang Li was burning incense and washing her hands.
When she first learned qin, what did she know about burning incense and washing hands? Incense was precious, something used by wealthy households. Tongxiang was poor. That bit of salary from Xue Huaiyuan wasn’t nearly enough, let alone for a decent qin. Xue Huaiyuan carved a qin from wood for her. That qin was what Jiang Li used when first learning. Playing it was very awkward, and the tone was dull. After Jiang Li learned to play the qin, she refused to use it anymore.
Her second qin was a spoil of war that Xue Zhao had won in a martial contest with someone. At the time, Xue Zhao had been provoked by someone whose family was wealthy and possessed a quite good seven-stringed qin. Xue Zhao knew she had been longing for a good qin, so he went along with it and made a wager with that person—if that person lost, he would have to give him that qin.
That qin was a considerable sum for the Xue family, though not much for the other family. Jiang Li could even still remember that day when Xue Zhao came running in from outside excitedly, setting the seven-stringed qin from his back on the table and saying proudly to her, “Sister, a qin for you!”
That qin stayed with her for a very long time afterward.
She used that qin to play “Fisherman’s Song at Dusk,” and also “Spring Snow.” She played “Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank,” and also “Three Variations on Plum Blossoms.”
A precious sword befits a hero. When first learning, she only felt that one needed a good qin to match good artistry. But the further she went, the more open-minded her state of heart became. How many peerless qins were there in the world? Good qins were common, but good qin masters were not.
What a pity…
What a pity that later, when she married into Yanjing with Shen Yurun, Madam Shen said that having become a wife, she should shoulder household responsibilities and couldn’t indulge in idle pursuits as before. That qin was locked in the Shen family’s storeroom, gathering dust, regrettably left in darkness.
She heard that after Xue Fangfei died, the Shen family burned all of Xue Fangfei’s belongings in a fire. Presumably that seven-stringed qin, laden with her memories and filled with her father’s and brother’s love, had also been reduced to ashes in that great fire.
Jiang Li lowered her eyes. How strange—at this moment, her heart was exceptionally calm.
“What’s wrong with her? Why hasn’t she started yet?” Someone, seeing her delay without action, asked impatiently.
“Could Second Miss Jiang not know how to use the qin and is now dumbfounded?”
Someone analyzed, “That’s quite possible. There’s no place to learn qin in a nunnery.”
“If she really doesn’t know, just forget it. Why insist on fighting for face and make herself unable to get off the stage?”
“It’s for face, I suppose. Saying she doesn’t know would be so embarrassing.”
“Hey, hey, standing here motionless now—isn’t that still embarrassing?”
Various mockery, ridicule, pity, and sympathy filled her ears. The gaze Ye Shijie directed at Jiang Li carried some anxiety. What was going on with Jiang Li? Last time he saw her, wasn’t she very clever and calculating? Why was she now at a loss? Where had all her cleverness gone? With Jiang Li standing on the examination platform without speaking for so long, both Jiang Youyao and Jiang Yu’e felt secretly delighted. If Jiang Li couldn’t do anything on this examination platform, even having won first place in the upper three categories before couldn’t disguise the fact that she was a laughingstock.
Ji Shuran opened her mouth worriedly, “What’s wrong with Li’er…”
“Could Second Sister really not know?” Jiang Youyao shook her head and said to herself, “How is that possible? Second Sister is the most intelligent. She won first place in the upper three categories. This time, her qin music definitely won’t be poor.”
Rather than being helpful, her words made everyone start doubting whether Jiang Li’s first place in the upper three categories was truly well-deserved.
Seeing Jiang Li standing on stage without moving for so long, Meng Hongjin was blooming with joy inside. The gloom of recent days was swept away completely. She wished Jiang Li would fall flat on the examination platform and thoroughly disgrace herself.
Even Xiao Deyin below the stage frowned, signaling for the young attendant to go forward and prompt her. If Jiang Li still didn’t act, she would have to be driven off the stage.
Just as the red-ribboned attendant was preparing to step forward to remind her, without warning, Jiang Li suddenly spoke.
“In the bright breeze and flowing moonlight’s beginning, new forests and brocade flowers unfurl. My beloved plays in the spring moon, graceful and swaying in silk skirts.”
This was a folk tune. Jiang Li’s singing voice wasn’t in Yanjing’s official dialect either. It sounded like a dialect from some place, carrying a lively flavor.
“What is this?” Jiang Youyao asked Ji Shuran.
Ji Shuran shook her head. She had never heard it before either.
“It sounds like a folk tune from some place,” Second Branch’s Lu Shi’s eyes brightened. “Could it be that Li girl learned it from mountain people when she was at the nunnery?”
That was quite possible.
Jiang Li wasn’t affected in the slightest. She still hadn’t plucked the qin strings, merely sitting before the qin, singing this folk tune that was utterly unfamiliar to everyone present.
“Green lotus covers the emerald water, lotus flowers bloom red and fresh. When you see me and wish to pick me, my heart wishes to cherish the lotus.”
Her voice was clear and gentle, pure as an undiscovered stream, tranquil yet lively, flowing gently like melting spring snow, carrying sunlight and morning dew, dawn clouds and evening wind.
Like a lotus-picking girl in the mountains encountering her beloved for the first time, the innocent feelings between the young man and woman sparked at first touch, rapidly sprouting and growing into lush green trees with fragrant flowers and grass.
“Autumn wind enters through the window, silk curtains rise and sway. Looking up at the bright moon, I entrust my feelings to the light of a thousand miles.”
That girl was immersed in her lover’s smile, placing her tender feelings upon the moonlight. She was so pure and lovely. She had been happy, but love also taught her to become melancholy.
Love was truly wonderful. Love made everything lovely, making people forget that spring and summer were so brief—autumn had already arrived, and winter wasn’t far off.
She sang, “Once we parted when spring grass was green, now I return when osmanthus snow is full. Who knows the bitterness of longing—dark hair has turned white.”
Her singing voice came to an abrupt halt.
The four seasons changed. The singing girl ultimately waited in vain, yet her best years had passed. One couldn’t tell whether the years had been wasted, or whether she had wasted the years.
Jiang Li’s voice was beautiful, and her singing even more so. Unknowingly, the people at the examination grounds were actually drawn in by this crisp folk tune, immersing themselves in that sweet yet sorrowful dream.
Someone murmured, “What’s the name of this tune? Why haven’t I heard it before?”
“Don’t know.” Others shook their heads. “Doesn’t sound like Yanjing dialect.”
Not far from Princess Yongning, Shen Yurun suddenly raised his head, staring at that young lady on stage. This song—he had heard it before…
This was a folk song widely circulated in Tongxiang, called “Song of the Four Seasons of Midnight.” The girls of Tongxiang probably all knew how to sing it. A faint smile played at the corners of Jiang Li’s lips. She had sung it too.
Below the stage, Xiao Deyin furrowed her brows, wondering about something. The Startling Swan Immortal looked somewhat surprised. Shi Yan remained serious-faced as always, showing no expression. Mianju, however, was so delighted he waved his hands about, actually saying to the Startling Swan Immortal, “This little girl is interesting. Qin music competitions have always compared qin playing, yet she sang a song instead. And this song isn’t bad!”
“That still won’t do.” The Startling Swan Immortal explained gently and reasonably, “If she doesn’t compete in qin music, she can only be considered as taking shortcuts, which is unfair to other students.”
Mianju pursed his lips, about to speak when he suddenly discovered something. He smiled and said, “What shortcuts? Look, even the Duke has been awakened by her song.”
Ji Heng had opened his eyes at some point, now resting his fan handle against his lips, smiling as he gazed at the young lady on stage, his expression subtle.
This was the first time since the beginning that Ji Heng had shown an attitude of actually “listening.”
On the other side, Jiang Yu’e said, “Is Second Sister only planning to sing a song and not play the qin?”
That song was certainly novel, but qin music had always compared “qin,” not “song.”
It seemed Second Miss Jiang truly had exhausted her tricks, which was why she thought to substitute song for qin. Just as everyone was thinking this, they saw Jiang Li stretch out both hands, place them on the qin strings, and pluck.
The first note flowed out.
“Gah—” The spectators nearly choked. “She’s going to play.”
“Quick, listen to what she’s playing…”
Before the word “what” could be uttered, another stream of smooth qin notes passed through people’s ears, surpassing even Jiang Youyao’s, like someone using a knife to carve bit by bit into the tips of people’s hearts.
“She’s playing ‘Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute’!”
Someone recognized it, and for a moment became so excited their voice changed pitch.
Upon hearing this, all who heard changed expression. “Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute”—even the teachers at Mingyi Hall couldn’t play this piece. One careless mistake would create a joke. Yet Jiang Li actually dared?
How many years had it been since anyone played “Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute”?!
At the examination grounds, everything suddenly fell silent. In the silence, someone suddenly burst out laughing—it was Mianju. He was so delighted he waved his hands about, looking nothing like a palace musician, excited beyond measure. “It’s ‘Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute’! This little girl has enough guts! Enough courage!”
The Startling Swan Immortal said helplessly, “Teacher, please be quiet.”
Mianju immediately gave an embarrassed smile and fell silent.
Thus at the examination grounds, only Jiang Li’s qin notes remained.
“Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute” wrote of a woman’s desolation in longing for home and separation from her child, and her vast resentment. The emphasis was on the word “desolate.” Setting aside the teachers, the female students of Mingyi Hall were all young noble ladies from aristocratic families in the bloom of youth, precisely in their innocent and carefree days. Even if they had worries, they were all insignificant small matters. How could they play the word “desolate”? Even “sorrow” was difficult to play.
Though people often spoke of empathy, how could empathy be as simple as four words? Perhaps only sages who embraced all under heaven could achieve it.
Meng Hongjin sneered, “Truly doesn’t know her place. She’s just making herself a laughingstock for others to see…”
She had originally thought that with Jiang Li playing such a piece, she certainly couldn’t play it well. If Jiang Li could play it well, wouldn’t that mean Jiang Li was even more formidable than Mingyi Hall’s most intelligent talented women over all these years? How was that possible?
But her mockery gradually died away, and her expression became increasingly ugly.
Jiang Li’s fingering techniques were very skilled, as if she had already studied qin for decades. Her movements were also extremely elegant, without half a trace of deliberateness or artifice, casually graceful in an unbelievable way.
The young lady simply sat on the examination platform. The wind was clear, the sun pale, her sleeves wide and flowing, the emerald color vivid, spiritually beautiful and lovely. For a moment, the examination grounds also became like deep mountain valleys, not at all like a fame-and-fortune arena, but rather as if she were playing for herself alone.
She was indeed playing for herself.
Jiang Li’s gaze didn’t look at anything before her, yet also seemed to see everything before her.
The song’s composer left home and was separated from her child. She not only left home and lost her child, but also had her family destroyed and people killed.
The person beside her pillow was an ungrateful wolf. Her family members perished in this undeserved calamity without leaving anything behind. What was hateful was that the enemy continued to rise in position. Since her rebirth, she had finally seen her enemy again, yet she couldn’t take revenge for her father and brother at this moment—she could only restrain herself.
Suppressing without releasing was desolation. Blood debts were desolation. Innocent wrongful death was desolation. The entire family’s misfortune was desolation. Tyrannical oppression was desolation. Heaven being blind was desolation. Desolate, desolate, desolate!
The qin notes rang sharply like a sharp sword piercing straight into the long sky. In that instant, vast resentment surged toward heaven, making listeners feel their hearts and intestines torn inch by inch, grief-stricken beyond control.
Desolate! Resentful! Heart-piercingly painful!
After so many years, someone finally played “Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute” at the examination grounds for the first time. Everyone had thought that as long as this young lady could remember the fingering techniques completely, it would already be quite good. But Jiang Li could not only remember them completely, she could remember them skillfully. Looking at her appearance, she was clearly not unfamiliar with it at all.
This was already remarkable enough, but how could a fifteen-year-old young lady play “desolation”!
The twelfth verse—sorrow and joy are equal, the feelings of going and staying are difficult to fully express. The thirteenth verse—the strings are tense and the melody sorrowful, my liver and intestines are torn and no one knows me.
The fourteenth verse—tears flow down, the river flows east and my heart thinks of itself. The fifteenth verse—the rhythm hastens, my chest fills with anger and who understands the melody.
The sixteenth verse—my thoughts are boundless, my child and I are each in one direction. The sun in the east and moon in the west—we can only gaze at each other, unable to follow each other, breaking our hearts in vain. Facing the day lily, I cannot forget my worries. Playing the bright qin, how my feelings are wounded. Now parting from my child to return to my homeland, old resentment piled upon new resentment growing long. Weeping blood, I raise my head to appeal to the vast heavens—why was I born to suffer this calamity alone?
Xiao Deyin’s usually gentle face was now somewhat stiff. Looking carefully, her fingers were still trembling slightly. Jiang Li’s qin music, at least in this piece “Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute,” had already far surpassed her by too much! The superb skill Jiang Li displayed in this piece could even qualify her to be Xiao Deyin’s teacher!
Yanjing’s number one qin master now seemed like a joke!
The Startling Swan Immortal was also very astonished. She had already become a wife and mother, and didn’t care about fame and fortune. Therefore, having a young junior surpass her didn’t make her feel anxious. She was just very puzzled—how could a fourteen-year-old young lady in the bloom of youth understand the desolation and resentment of “Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute” so thoroughly? Even though Jiang Li had lost her mother at a young age and was sent to a nunnery at seven, even though she had lived eight years of hardship on the mountain, these sufferings weren’t exactly the same as the “desolation and resentment” in the qin piece.
This was simply unbelievable.
Mianju was the happiest. His eyes gleamed, staring at Jiang Li with a gaze like a miser suddenly discovering a large piece of gold, drooling with desire, unwilling to look away even slightly. He even murmured, “This is a natural-born qin master!”
Shi Yan was somewhat better than Mianju, though hearing Jiang Li’s qin notes made him change from his previous arrogant expression, gradually becoming moved. He was a music official, not as unrestrained as Mianju, but as long as it was good qin music, he would appreciate it with his heart.
Last among these four was Ji Heng.
Everyone at the venue was attracted and bewitched by Jiang Li’s qin notes. Those qin notes seemed to have the effect of confusing people’s hearts, causing everyone who heard them to feel desolate, as if seeing scorched yellow earth where not a blade of grass grew, then associating with their own sorrowful matters, unable to control themselves.
Qin notes had such magic. Legend told of demon qin masters who could use qin notes to bring people into illusions of their own making, causing people to lose themselves. Perhaps there were no demon qin masters in the world, but there were brilliant qin masters who could transmit heart and emotion through qin notes.
When everyone was captured by the qin master, only one person remained unmoved by these qin notes.
He was neither like Jiang Youyao and Meng Hongjin’s ilk who felt jealous because of the qin notes, nor like Xiao Deyin who felt fear because of the qin artistry, nor had he become immersed like all the other people. He just looked at Jiang Li, the smile at the corners of his mouth unchanged by even a trace.
Ji Heng was watching Jiang Li.
His eyelashes were long, making his gaze appear very rippling and moving, as if he too had become intoxicated within. But looking carefully, one could see he was actually very clearheaded. He separated himself from the qin notes, also seeming to separate himself from the crowd.
He watched Jiang Li play the qin like watching a theater troupe invited to perform at his mansion. Watching the people at the examination grounds immersed in Jiang Li’s qin notes was like watching a play within a play.
On stage and below, various aspects of sentient beings. The mortal world bustling with activity—he was like a heartless beauty standing outside the play, coldly observing from the side, content to be a spectator.
He was very clearly detaching himself.
Some people were detaching, some people were immersing. What about the qin player Jiang Li?
She was enveloped by enormous sorrow. The qin notes’ resentment and her inner desolation seemed to become two mutually reinforcing shadows, racing to grow longer. She seemed to be split in two—one crazed Xue Fangfei tearfully recounting her sorrow through the qin notes, one Jiang Li coldly watching the reactions of everyone below the stage.
The seventeenth verse—my heart and nose are sour, the mountain passes are long and obstructed and the road is difficult. When leaving, I cherished the soil and my heart had no direction. When coming, parting from my child, my thoughts are endless.
The eighteenth verse—the melody may end but the echo remains and thoughts are infinite. Thus I know that strings and bamboo are all works of creation—sorrow and joy each follow the human heart, and having changes, they flow freely. The Hu and Han lands are different regions with different customs, heaven and earth separated, child in the west and mother in the east. My bitter resentment is vast as the long sky—though the six directions are broad, they should not be able to contain it.
Sorrow always has an end. Qin notes always have a conclusion.
Jiang Li plucked the final melody, suddenly stopping the notes. After the enormous sound, there was empty, hollow silence.
Not a single person spoke. All things in heaven and earth seemed to fall silent for this sorrowful qin melody.
Liu Xu below the stage only felt her face icy cold. Raising her hand to touch it, she didn’t know when, but her face was completely covered with wet tears. Looking around, those who had heard the melody and shed tears were not few, all looking lost and disappointed.
“Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute”—someone had finally performed it at the examination grounds. And that folk tune before the eighteen verses added even more sorrowful color to this desolate piece.
People couldn’t help but look toward Jiang Li on stage. If they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes, no matter what, no one would believe that the person who could play this piece was a fifteen-year-old young lady.
The young lady stood on the examination platform. The breeze blew her hair until it rustled. She lowered her head slightly, making it impossible to see her expression clearly, yet one felt this young lady was also very quiet.
Jiang Li sighed long in her heart. As soon as she raised her head, she froze.
She met a pair of narrow, beautiful phoenix eyes, filled with playfulness.