The sound of the piano was extremely melodious and pleasant. Even Yan Qing, someone who knew nothing about music, found herself utterly captivated by it.

Yan Qing and Ling’ai stopped in their tracks, as though unwilling to disturb the music. The young maid, perceptive enough to read the situation, stood quietly to the side of the path and waited in silence.

When the piece finally came to an end, Yan Qing still felt the lingering melody echoing in her ears, as though it refused to fade away.

“It was truly beautiful,” Ling’ai sighed. “The piano music I’ve heard at concerts was no better than this. What kind of genius is the person playing?”

Yan Qing asked the young maid, “What is that place over there?”

The maid hesitated for a moment before answering, “That is our First Young Miss’s courtyard.”

“First Young Miss?” Yan Qing’s first thought went to Qian Yonglu’s daughter. “Is she the Second Master’s eldest daughter?”

“She belongs to our First Master.”

A look of puzzlement crossed Yan Qing’s face. “As I recall, the First Master has only one son — no daughters.”

“The First Young Miss only recently returned home. As for the details, I’m not entirely sure myself.”

Noticing the maid’s evasive gaze, Yan Qing knew she would get nothing more out of her. She had no desire to pry too deeply into the Qian family’s affairs, and was about to leave with Ling’ai when the piano, which had been silent for a moment, suddenly rang out again.

This time, the piece being played was a rather old song — one that had been popular some twenty-odd years ago.

Yan Qing knew it only because Luo Huaimeng had been very fond of it. There was an old record in her room, and whenever she had a free moment, she would put it on.

Yan Qing had once asked her who had sung the song. Luo Huaimeng said it was written and composed by a very talented woman, and then performed by a popular singer of the time.

The song expressed the grief of a woman who loved someone she could not have. Within the alternately subdued and soaring melody, it was as though a woman were whispering softly, and from her words spilled an endless longing and anguish that drifted outward in all directions, drawing the listener in to feel the same emotions as though they were their own.

“This piece…” Ling’ai wrinkled her brow. “It sounds so mournful.”

It was indeed a sorrowful composition to begin with, and paired with the extraordinary skill of the pianist, it was very easy to be drawn along by the grief in the music — one’s heart rising and falling with its shifting moods.

Just as Yan Qing and Ling’ai were still immersed in the melody, the sound of footsteps suddenly came from that direction.

Peering through the gaps between the branches, Yan Qing spotted the Marshal approaching at a leisurely pace, with Qian Yongfu standing beside him and Liu Yin following close behind with two guards.

“Who is playing the piano?” The Marshal suddenly stopped walking, his ears perking up.

Qian Yongfu was about to respond, but the Marshal immediately raised a hand to signal silence. His entire being became utterly focused.

Ling’ai couldn’t help but glance at Yan Qing, who returned her look with an expression that said: watch and wait.

Through the dense leaves, Yan Qing could clearly see the Marshal’s expression shifting at a visible pace — first shock, then grief, and even a faint trace of regret.

She could not understand how a single piece of music could have such a powerful effect, enough to make even the Marshal — a man who faced the world without being shaken — lose control of his emotions in an instant.

She had never seen him like this. He looked as though he had just been pulled from a river of sorrow.

Yan Qing frowned slightly, with a vague feeling that this coincidence was somehow suspicious.

This was the rear courtyard of the Qian estate — why would the Marshal suddenly pass through here? And why would he happen to hear the piano just now? If the one playing was the Qian family’s First Young Miss, why would she be playing something so deeply sorrowful?

And besides — where had this Qian family First Young Miss come from in the first place?

Even after the piano played its final note, the Marshal remained lost in it for a long while, his expression fixed in a state of profound sorrow.

“Marshal.” Liu Yin, seeing the Marshal still in a daze, gently reminded him in a low voice.

Only then did the Marshal come back to himself. He turned to look at Qian Yongfu. “Mr. Qian, who is playing the piano?”

“To be frank with the Marshal, the one playing is my daughter.”

“Did I not understand that Mr. Qian has only one son?”

Mr. Qian let out a sigh. “That is a long story.”

“How so?”

Seeing that the Marshal was genuinely interested and pressing for answers, Qian Yongfu said, “My wife was pregnant in her early years. She was rushed to the hospital due to complications during labor, and when the child was born, it was secretly taken away.”

“Who took the child, and why?”

“I was young then, and the nature of my business had made me many enemies. These people wished to see my line extinguished. After they took my daughter from the hospital, they also caused my wife to suffer a heartbreak from which she never recovered, leaving her unable to conceive afterward. It was only later, by the grace of heaven, that I had a son in my old age — the one I have now.”

The Marshal seemed to sense what was coming. “Can it be that Mr. Qian’s daughter has been found?”

“Indeed she has.” Mr. Qian raised his hands toward the sky in gratitude. “I never imagined my daughter would be found. It truly is a blessing from heaven.”

“How long was Mr. Qian’s daughter missing?”

“A full twenty-four years.” Mr. Qian sighed sorrowfully. “My poor daughter had been searching for her birth parents all this time. If my wife had not happened to recognize a token from when she was born, we would never have found her.”

“Is your daughter married?” In the Marshal’s view, twenty-four was already “advanced in years” — a woman of that age would typically have children running about already.

Mr. Qian shook his head. “My daughter has always shown very little interest in matters of romance. All of her heart is devoted to music. Since she came home, my wife and I have looked into several prospects for her, but her reactions to all of them were lukewarm at best. As her parents, we are quite worried.”

“Your daughter plays the piano so magnificently — might I ask under whose tutelage she studied?”

“According to her, it was a Buddhist nun called Huiyuan, who passed away many years ago.”

Upon hearing the name Huiyuan, the Marshal’s pupils contracted sharply, and his body could not help but tremble.

“Marshal.” Liu Yin hurried forward to steady him. “Please take care of yourself, Marshal.”

Yan Qing, observing this change in the Marshal, was greatly startled as well. Those two characters — that name — seemed to be some kind of forbidden word to him. In an instant, the composed and self-possessed expression he always wore had vanished entirely.

“I would like to meet your daughter,” the Marshal said, his voice carrying a slight tremor. “Would that be possible, Mr. Qian?”

Mr. Qian hesitated briefly before saying, “My daughter has not once received outside guests since she returned home. She rarely goes out at all. May I be so bold as to ask the Marshal to allow me to first consult my daughter’s wishes?”

“Of course.” The Marshal made every effort to maintain his composure, doing his best to keep his tone steady. “I will wait for Mr. Qian.”

Mr. Qian bowed to the Marshal, then made his way toward the front courtyard.

Liu Yin glanced up at the Marshal and saw that his gaze continued to follow Qian Yongfu until he disappeared from sight within the courtyard — and even then, the Marshal showed no sign of withdrawing his eyes.

Yan Qing furrowed her brow slightly. The Marshal’s behavior was far too unusual.

“Seventh Young Madam.” The little maid, who had been standing quietly not far away, suddenly spoke. “The facilities are just up ahead. Allow me to show the two of you the way.”

The maid was clever enough — she had clearly sensed that what just transpired might be some kind of secret, and had no wish for Yan Qing and Ling’ai to learn too much about it.

Yan Qing turned around and casually slipped off the pair of gold bracelets from her wrist. The weight of the solid gold pieces resting in the maid’s palm made the girl’s eyes go wide with surprise.

“You’ve already shown us where we need to go. You may attend to your other duties now.”

The maid was sharp — just from the heft of the bracelets in her hand, she could tell they were worth a considerable sum, and besides, they had come from the Seventh Young Madam herself, which made them all the more valuable.

“Seventh Young Madam, I have other matters to attend to. Please feel free to stroll around as you like.” With that, the maid turned and left.

Ling’ai looked down at her own bare wrists and couldn’t help but grumble, “Someone like me, who never carries anything of value — how is she supposed to manage?”

“In a grand household like this, many things require a certain kind of currency. That is precisely why you are only suited to marrying Zheng Yun and settling down with your little plot of land.”

Zheng Yun’s parents were far away in their hometown and would never come to Shun Cheng. Aside from his friends at the military police bureau, he was essentially on his own — a household with simple ties like that was the most suitable arrangement for Ling’ai.

Ling’ai had grown up in Hui Village, sheltered and cherished by him all her life. She had never been exposed to the scheming and power struggles of wealthy households like this. When it came to cunning and maneuvering, she was frankly too inexperienced.

Ling’ai’s face flushed, and she let out a shy laugh. “Who says I want to marry him?”

“You say one thing and mean another.” Yan Qing smiled. “I’ll remember what you said today. If Zheng Yun ever proposes to you, you absolutely must not accept.”

“You’re terrible.” Ling’ai bumped her shoulder against Yan Qing’s. “Are you even my friend?”

“It’s precisely because I’m your friend that I’ll make sure to hold you to your word.”

Ling’ai was just about to say something when she suddenly noticed Qian Yongfu walking out of the courtyard — but there was no one following behind him.

“Marshal.” Qian Yongfu said with an apologetic air. “My daughter does not wish to come outside to receive guests. If the Marshal is willing, you are welcome to step into the courtyard instead.”

“Very well.” The Marshal agreed without a moment’s hesitation.

Yan Qing watched as the Marshal and Liu Yin entered the private garden together. What transpired inside after that, she had no way of knowing.

“What should we do — should we sneak over and peek over the wall?” Ling’ai suggested.

Yan Qing gave her a light tap on the head. “Do you think the guards around the Marshal are all just for show?”

“But then we won’t be able to hear a thing they say.”

“What is there to say.” Yan Qing gave a cold smile. “This whole scene was arranged by the Qian family — designed specifically for the Marshal to ‘happen upon’ their daughter. Didn’t Qian Yongfu say his daughter never goes out and refuses to receive guests? So how is it that she’s willing to see the Marshal?”

“You make a fair point. There must be something peculiar going on.”

“The Qian family has grand ambitions. They have their eye on the position of the Marshal’s official wife.”

“Do you think the Marshal will agree? And besides, this Miss Qian is only twenty-four — the Marshal is nearly sixty. Isn’t that quite a large gap?”

“When the Marshal has taken a liking to someone, does he concern himself with the difference in age?” Yan Qing let out a soft sigh. “Let’s head back to the reception hall.”

She still had some things she wanted to ask Luo Huaimeng.

—