The moment Jun Buli’s anger flared and the venomous beasts appeared, the entire hall fell into absolute silence!

The assembled officials, Chancellor Li included, were struck utterly speechless — never mind saying another word, none of them dared so much as twitch, terrified that the slightest wrong move might send the beasts before them lunging forward to tear them apart in a single bite!

These officials had never truly harbored any serious intent to rebel — they had merely been watching and waiting, using the pretext of seeking an audience to try to force the truth out into the open. And yet, rather than uncovering the truth, they had instead provoked the young master of Prince Yao’s estate into fury!

This boy was nothing like a seven-year-old child at all — nor anything like the innocent, unworldly wild child of rumor!

This boy was ruthlessly cunning!

And that wasn’t even the most crucial point — the most crucial point was that he wasn’t merely cunning, but domineering and forceful as well!

By invoking General Ouyang, he was, without question, signaling to everyone present: anyone who dared harbor thoughts of rebellion would be shown no mercy!

With the military strength his father had left him, he possessed more than enough capability to wipe out the entire court, should he so choose!

Only then did the assembled officials finally come to their senses, realizing that this child had been playing them all along — and, at the same time, realizing that this child was anything but naive. Not only did he command tremendous power behind him, but he possessed more than enough courage to actually wield it!

In all honesty, a child like this was clearly no ordinary talent — he was bound to become someone truly formidable in the future!

Even with his greatest protector, Prince Yao, absent, neither Jun Beichen, nor Jun Ge, nor anyone else within the imperial family, nor any power at court, nor any figure of standing within the military, could touch him.

Just as the assembled officials stood there, hearts pounding with dread, filled with regret, Eunuch Xu entered the hall. He cast a meaningful glance over the assembled officials before hurrying forward to report, “Young Master, the imperial grandsons have all been delivered to the estate.”

At this, Chancellor Li couldn’t help but retreat several steps. If even Jun Beichen’s carefully groomed eldest son had been taken hostage, what hope was there for the rest of their own children?

Jun Buli, oh Jun Buli — this move was ruthless indeed!

Ignoring the reactions of the assembled officials, Jun Buli nodded. “Good. Send word to my second imperial uncle — if he misses his son, he’d best hurry back.”

Anyone who failed to hear the threat in those words would have to be a fool.

Eunuch Xu departed to carry out the order, and the entire Imperial Study fell into dead silence.

“Chancellor Li, I imagine your daughter has arrived at the estate by now as well. If you find yourself missing her, you’re welcome to visit Prince Yao’s estate any time,” Jun Buli said with a smile.

Chancellor Li dropped to his knees at once. “This humble official thanks the young lord for the invitation. I shall never forget this kindness!”

All at once, the rest of the assembled officials followed suit, dropping to their knees as well, feeling in their hearts that this young master before them was truly nothing short of a devil — one willing to stake everything, to accept any cost, any consequence, without hesitation!

Who could possibly dare to cross him?

Chancellor Li, who had had his daughter late in life, had only this one precious child — barely six years old — and yet even she hadn’t been spared by Jun Buli, let alone the children of those official households far more accomplished in both letters and arms.

Looking at the officials kneeling before him, all across the hall, Jun Beiyue — no, Jun Buli — slowly let the cold, wicked glint fade from his eyes, his whole bearing settling into something quiet and composed. He knew that this crisis in the capital had passed — though he had no idea how long it would be before his parents returned, or whether they would return at all.

Silently, in his heart, he vowed, “Father, Mother, once I’ve settled Da Zhou and secured the four territories, if you still haven’t come back by then, I will never forgive you, not for the rest of my life.”

By the reckoning of time in the capital, Ziqing and the others had been gone for nearly two months now. And yet, within the enchanted illusion, barely two days had passed.

At this very moment, high on the cliffs above the cave in the Innocence Ravine, Ziqing had already conveyed the complete score to Xuanyuan Lige, and the two of them had long since begun playing “Parting Sorrow” together!

Jun Beiyue and Baili Weisheng sat quietly to one side, listening, both of their gazes fixed on Ziqing. The tenth movement of “Parting Sorrow” had yet to finish, and already the two of them had long since sunk into their own private thoughts, watching Ziqing, their eyes not so much anxious as somewhat vacant.

Ziqing and Xuanyuan Lige sat facing one another, no more than ten paces apart, both entirely absorbed in the strings.

Playing “Parting Sorrow” was utterly unlike playing any other piece — the toll it took on one’s mental and spiritual strength was beyond description!

Beyond simply entering the right state of mind, it also demanded sufficient physical stamina, enough to sustain seven full days and nights of continuous playing.

In this respect, Ziqing was the one who gave the greater cause for concern — Xuanyuan Lige was, after all, nothing more than a solitary soul, while Ziqing was a living, breathing person. Even with her spirit strong and steady, her hands were bound to ache, to grow sore!

“Parting Sorrow” spanned nine hundred and ninety movements, and was bound to build in intensity, growing faster and faster as it progressed. Should she falter partway through, unable to hold on, all their effort would be wasted, everything lost in vain!

Through this half-day of playing, Ziqing had kept her head lowered the whole while, occasionally closing her eyes. Her condition was holding steady, though she knew full well she hadn’t yet fully settled into the piece — everything played so far was merely preparation for the climax still to come!

At this moment, Xuanyuan Lige lifted his head once more, gazing quietly at Ziqing, his eyes carrying traces of sorrow, of satisfaction, of joy, of anticipation, of quiet detachment, all at once.

Complex, and yet simple, all the same!

He knew that such an emotional state would do nothing to help him sink deeper into the piece — “Parting Sorrow” was, after all, a sorrowful composition, one that demanded genuine sorrow to carry it through.

His gaze slid past Jun Beiyue and Baili Weisheng, not settling on Ziqing at all, but sinking instead down onto the strings before him.

Sorrow — when had he ever truly known sorrow?

He pondered this in silence, and something seemed to strike him, a faint curve rising at the corner of his mouth, somewhere between a smile and not quite one. And yet, all at once, the music’s tone dropped low, taking on a faint, heavy weight!

But this sudden shift in the music did nothing to rouse Ziqing from her trance. At that moment, she had her eyes tightly shut, lost entirely in a memory from her past!

In that memory, she plunged a blade viciously into Jun Beiyue’s chest;

In that memory, she tore the mask from his face with brutal force;

In that memory, she ran after his carriage, sobbing, while Physician Gu refused to wait even a moment longer, refused to let her catch one last glimpse of Beiyue!

Gradually, her playing grew even more sorrowful than Xuanyuan Lige’s own, sorrowful enough to bring tears to anyone who heard it.

In that memory, she was stabbed in the abdomen by Mi’er’s blade, and lay unconscious for a long, long time. In her unconsciousness, she met an old man, who told her that she had crossed over into this world for one purpose alone — to find the deserted island. If she failed to find it, her existence here would have no meaning; she would leave, would forget everything of this world, and return to the place she had come from.

“No…”

Suddenly, Ziqing cried out in alarm, and with a sharp “keng,” the music surged loud and sudden, followed at once by an urgent, frantic flurry of playing!

At this, Jun Beiyue and Baili Weisheng, who had both been thoroughly entranced, were jolted back to alertness — and at the very same moment, Xuanyuan Lige lifted his head to look over as well!

There sat Ziqing, head lowered, her slender frame trembling violently, as though gripped by some terror, or perhaps sobbing uncontrollably — only her hands continued, unbroken, to play, casting a pall of sorrow over the entire scene.

She was afraid — and yet she pressed on. What was she so afraid of, to be trembling like this? And what was she holding onto so stubbornly, so fiercely?

Jun Beiyue’s heart clenched with pain, and Baili Weisheng’s fists tightened — for the first time, he felt an overwhelming urge to rush forward and pull that woman into his arms.

And Xuanyuan Lige, finally unable to tear his eyes away, watched Ziqing, his fingers moving faster and faster across the strings, until at last, the Xuezheng and Wuzheng rang out together in perfect harmony, and “Parting Sorrow” cast its sorrow across the whole of heaven and earth.

What, after all, was true sorrow?

You grieved until it became terror — and I, because of your grief, felt my own heart break.