Leave!
Hongyi froze. What did her mistress mean by that? “Miss, don’t be rash!”
Ziqing paid her no mind, instead drawing out the Wuzheng, setting it carefully on the zither stand, her slender fingers lightly brushing the strings before she began to play, slow and unhurried.
“Miss, actually…” Hongyi had no idea how to console her. In truth, if His Highness really didn’t care about the ruined-purity incident, she’d find that hard to believe herself — she simply hadn’t dared say so directly for fear of wounding her mistress’s heart.
After all, in this world, a woman’s chastity was her single most important possession.
Hongyi waited nearby in silence, while Ziqing’s playing grew steadily more urgent — like scattered pearls falling on jade, growing more and more intense, like the clash of weapons, sharp and ringing.
Suddenly, “Clang!” — the notes surged upward, taking on a bold, stirring quality. Had the player not been sitting right there before her eyes, Hongyi would never have believed such a vast, magnificent sound could come from a woman’s hands.
Soon, the boldness shifted into sorrow, and Hongyi found herself utterly captivated, her emotions swept along by the melody, a desolate feeling settling over her heart, refusing to fade.
She hadn’t noticed at all that Ziqing’s slender fingers had long since left the strings entirely — this sorrowful piece was being played purely in midair, her ten fingers striking nothing but empty air!
If not for wind-blades struck from her fingertips, if not for this very Wuzheng, how could such a thing be possible?
Ziqing kept her head bowed, her small face utterly still, so quiet that no one would dare disturb the silence. Her clear eyes stayed lowered, fixed entirely on her own fingers moving through empty air, utterly focused.
Her fingers hovered three inches from the strings, striking wind-blades from empty air, the force of the blades setting the strings trembling, producing the sound.
This was the truly extraordinary thing about Wuzheng, its highest, most profound level — though Ziqing knew perfectly well she was still only at the earliest stage of that mastery.
What she’d trained in before was close combat — this musical skill was, by contrast, a ranged attack. Combining near and far, she refused to believe she couldn’t kill Jun Beiyao with this.
At that thought, her fingering grew ever swifter, sharper, the notes drawing tighter and tighter, sorrow and grandeur intertwining, stirring the listener’s heart even as it filled them with melancholy.
Hongyi had already sunk completely into the world this melody conjured — and Ziqing, perhaps, had always been lost in her own world regardless.
The music carried far, and the entire camp found itself utterly entranced.
Over in Situ Xin’er’s tent, she too found herself unconsciously captivated. Where her expression had been dazedly infatuated, gazing at Jun Beiyue’s sleeping face, it now shifted, unaware, into something sorrowful, as though some painful memory had surfaced. She didn’t even notice that the man before her had slowly opened his eyes, his handsome brow drawing faintly together as he too listened intently.
“Someone — summon Han Ziqing!”
Jun Beiyue suddenly spoke, flatly. Anyone capable of playing music this utterly captivating could only be Xuanyuan Lige — or Han Ziqing.
Xuanyuan Lige would never make such a bold appearance in his own camp.
Yet neither Situ Xin’er nor the attendants outside the tent had recovered from the music at all!
He had to admit — music with this kind of power to bewitch the mind was truly frightening.
Without warning, Jun Beiyue slammed his palm down and rose to his feet at once, furious. “Bring Han Ziqing here now!”
“Ah!” Situ Xin’er cried out, startled back to herself, only to freeze at the sight of Jun Beiyue’s fury.
“Yes! This subordinate will fetch her at once!” Yingzi, outside the tent, was clearly startled too.
In an instant, “Clang!” — the music stopped. Suspicion flickered through Jun Beiyue’s eyes. Though he wasn’t a master of musical theory, he could recognize sound well enough — the earlier melody had flowed too seamlessly to place, but that final abrupt stop had sounded deeply strange, not at all like the sound of fingers plucking strings.
In another tent, Jun Beiyao lounged lazily across his couch, equally puzzled, asking the attendant beside him in a low voice, “Was the Princess playing on the Wuzheng?”
“This subordinate isn’t sure, but His Highness gave Wuzheng to the Princess long ago. When we were at the three western cities, someone reported hearing the Princess play,” the guard reported honestly.
Jun Beiyao’s eyes narrowed slightly. He said nothing, but his long fingers curled as if to strike, snapping out suddenly with a sharp crack — but no matter how hard he tried, no wind-blade emerged.
“Is everything arranged with the Court of Judicial Review?” Jun Beiyao asked again.
“Rest assured, my lord, everything’s in order. We’re only waiting for your return,” the guard said quietly.
Jun Beiyao nodded, satisfied, a cold, sinister smile touching his lips. This time — never mind Han Ziqing, even Jun Beiyue himself would never be able to hold his head up again.
Ziqing brought only Hongyi, following Yingzi toward Situ Xin’er’s camp.
Before they’d even reached the entrance, Hongyi couldn’t help but speak up. “Shadow Guard Yingzi, didn’t His Highness summon her?”
“Yes. His Highness is in Miss Situ’s camp,” Yingzi said, low.
“Why would he be there!” Hongyi asked at once.
“Perhaps he had some matter to discuss with Miss Situ,” Yingzi answered vaguely. If he’d said Jun Beiyue was simply exhausted and had fallen asleep in Miss Situ’s tent, the misunderstanding would have been far worse!
As he spoke, he couldn’t help glancing over at the Princess, only to find her showing no reaction whatsoever.
Reaching the tent, Yingzi deliberately raised his voice. “Her Highness the Princess has arrived!”
Ziqing took note of this with an inward, cold laugh, and lifted the tent flap herself, stepping inside. But the scene that greeted her eyes still made her chest clench tight all at once, bitterness welling up.
There sat Jun Beiyue, lounging lazily on a warm couch, accepting a cup of hot tea from Situ Xin’er, who sat perched right beside him on the edge of the couch.
The whole scene looked exactly like a concubine tending to her husband in some noble household!
Ziqing suddenly felt like an outsider, intruding on Situ Xin’er’s attentive service.
That man’s devastatingly handsome face showed as little expression as usual, his eyes lowered as he sipped his tea, seemingly quite accustomed to this sort of treatment, his posture lazy and unbothered.
Ziqing bowed slightly, smiling. “Your Highness, for what matter have you summoned this humble consort?”
Jun Beiyue didn’t answer right away, taking his time finishing his tea before handing the cup back to Situ Xin’er.
Situ Xin’er, unable to hide her delight, couldn’t resist shooting a provocative glance at Ziqing. She had no idea how Beiyue-gege had ended up falling asleep here, nor why he’d suddenly asked her to pour tea — but whatever the reason, she was thrilled, delighted even to play the role of his personal attendant.
“Beiyue-gege, have another cup — you slept for so long, you should have another to wake yourself up,” she said quickly, eager to inform Han Ziqing that Beiyue-gege had just woken up, right here, in her tent!
Ziqing remained bowed, showing no reaction at all. This man — perhaps she truly didn’t know him well — but the moment she’d walked in, she’d recognized it instantly: this was exactly how he looked upon waking, lazy and unguarded, always wanting tea the moment he woke, the stronger the better.
Yingzi had lied. He really had slept here since last night.
Jun Beiyue waved a hand to decline more tea, and only then turned his eyes properly toward Ziqing, saying flatly, “Rise.”
Ziqing looked up and slowly rose, her smile unwavering. Jun Beiyue, oh Jun Beiyue — if you’re so inclined, why not just marry Situ Xin’er outright? Sleeping in an unmarried young girl’s tent — do you have no shame at all?
Before Jun Beiyue could speak, she beat him to it. “Your Highness, you slept here last night?”