The carriage traveled along Chang’an’s wide streets, stopping at Prince E’s mansion gates.

As Huang Zixia jumped down from the carriage following Li Shubai, she looked up to see Prince E Li Run already standing at the entrance. He maintained that refined, otherworldly appearance, his face carrying a hint of a smile, his entire being radiating gentle nobility. His originally somewhat plain features were transformed by the cinnabar mole on his forehead, which made him shine with auspicious radiance, turning him into an undeniably beautiful young man.

He smiled and nodded at Huang Zixia, then went to welcome Li Shubai: “Fourth Brother, weren’t you supposed to be discussing matters with the Uighur Haiqing Khan at Daming Palace today? How do you have time to visit me?”

“Nothing major, just routine business. However, he gave me a string of purple sandalwood prayer beads that I thought you’d like, so I brought them to give to you.”

“Fourth Brother, you know me so well!” Li Run joyfully cradled the beads, caressing each one with his fingertips, then said, “Please come in and sit, Fourth Brother. I recently received a cake of Tianxi tea, this year’s new harvest. Let’s brew some and drink together.”

A small red clay stove burned with thin pine twigs. The flower hall’s doors and windows were open on all four sides, with a small spring flowing outside the window, surrounded by snow-white rocks and patches of dwarf pines, creating an exquisitely crafted poetic atmosphere.

Huang Zixia took a sip of tea and looked up at the flower hall’s walls, where two lines of Wang Wei’s poetry hung. One read “Pine winds blow undone my sash, mountain moon shines as I play the qin.” The other: “Bright moon shines through pines, clear spring flows over stones.”

Li Shubai savored his tea and said: “With pines, springs, stones, and round windows like moons, it’s as if we’ve walked into Wang Wei’s poetic realm.”

Huang Zixia immediately understood his intent to broach a topic and quietly added: “If there were also a qin, it would complete the poetic scene.”

“Chonggu speaks true, and as it happens, I have a qin master right here.” Li Run smiled and nodded, immediately ordering someone to invite Chen Nianniang. Soon, Chen Nianniang arrived carrying her qin. When she bowed and saw Huang Zixia, her face instantly lit up with joy as she nodded: “Public Servant Yang.”

Huang Zixia unconsciously moved her right hand hidden in her sleeve, where a small, hard object wrapped in white cloth lay in the sleeve pocket. Her heart fluttered slightly as she looked at Chen Nianniang, thinking: this jade piece bears your name, and Feng Yiniang kept it with her until death.

Though her heart felt cold, she maintained a smile and said: “Miss Chen, the Ministry of Personnel hasn’t found any news of your sister yet. It seems we’ll have to wait longer.”

Chen Nianniang nodded. Though her face had grown somewhat haggard, her qin artistry remained extraordinary. She played “Ten Thousand Valleys Sing,” the sound of springs among pines resonating clearly, making listeners forget worldly concerns.

Li Shubai praised: “None of the qin masters in the Imperial Music Bureau can compare to Master Chen.”

Li Run smiled: “Indeed, Master Chen must now be considered a national treasure.”

Li Shubai said casually: “Chonggu, I remember after you last heard Master Chen’s wonderful performance, you were so inspired that you secretly sought lessons from others. Now that you have the opportunity, shouldn’t you hurry to seek Master Chen’s guidance?”

Huang Zixia deeply admired his ability to lie so smoothly without changing expression, and quickly seized the opportunity, helping Chen Nianniang pack her qin back into its case and carrying it with her to the qin room. Li Run treated Chen Nianniang as an honored guest; her small courtyard in the eastern corner of the prince’s mansion was filled with emerald bamboo, spacious and serene.

Chen Nianniang sat down and tuned a few notes, saying: “Learning the qin is a lifetime of hard work. I see the young public servant is busy with daily duties, so dedicating yourself to learning the qin might be difficult. If you’re just temporarily interested, learning a few simple pieces should suffice. Have you learned about gong, Shang, jue, zhi, yu, and the various hand and finger positions?”

Huang Zixia eagerly sought instruction, and Chen Nianniang taught her one by one. As noon approached, mansion servants brought them lunch.

Seeing Chen Nianniang eat very little, Huang Zixia said: “Miss Chen, you’ve grown thin lately. Please don’t worry too much—take care of your health first. I’m sure Miss Feng wouldn’t want to see you so haggard.”

Chen Nianniang looked up at her, forcing a smile, and said: “Thank you, young public servant, but I can’t find peace day or night. Every time I close my eyes, I see Yiniang’s face. You probably don’t know this feeling. For over ten years we relied on each other, and now I’m left alone—I don’t know how to go on.”

Huang Zixia unconsciously patted her hand, thinking of her parents and family who had forever departed. Yet though they were both lost souls far from home, she couldn’t share her feelings, only silently gripping the small piece of mutton-fat jade in her sleeve.

She returned the small portrait Chen Nianniang had given her earlier, saying: “I had a copy made to keep with me, thinking it might help in searching for her later. Is that alright?”

She carefully put away the portrait, saying: “Of course, and I must thank you, Public Servant.”

Huang Zixia then asked: “You and Miss Feng were so close—did she never mention who had commissioned her?”

“No. Yiniang usually kept nothing from me, but that time she only said it was something wonderful, and she had to help no matter what.”

Huang Zixia pondered this, asking: “You and Miss Feng must have shared everything. Can you think of any old friends who would make her so happy?”

Chen Nianniang tuned her qin strings, speaking slowly: “To be honest, though we grew up together and learned our art together, Yiniang had a difficult life. She was once sold to a brothel, but fortunately, a patron soon bought her freedom. She followed that person to Yangzhou, but later, because of conflicts with the patron’s primary wife, she left with a sum of money, bought a small house, and became a resident qin master at Yunshao Garden in Yangzhou. I stayed in Luoyang until years later when I received her letter and learned she was in Yangzhou. In her letter, she wrote, ‘Nianniang, when we were young we swore to support each other in life and death. If you’re willing, we can grow old together now…'”

At this point, tears rolled down Chen Nianniang’s face. Though no longer young, her tears still sparkled like crystals: “I was in Luoyang then, teaching qin to several noble households, living without worry. But with one letter from Yiniang, I packed just a few simple clothes and headed south to Yangzhou. She never mentioned her life during those years, and I didn’t want to talk about my past either, because we both felt there was no need for words between us.”

So she didn’t know who Yiniang’s old friend was either?

Chen Nianniang noticed her thoughtful expression and asked: “Young Public Servant, are these matters related to finding Yiniang?”

Huang Zixia hesitated, then nodded: “The Ministry of Personnel can’t find any records, so I’m just investigating privately. Because of some recent palace incidents, I’ve had contact with people from the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review, and I thought I might use this opportunity to help search for Yiniang.”

Chen Nianniang bowed deeply to her, then said: “Thank you, young Public Servant! Please ask me anything—I’ll tell you everything I know without reservation.”

Huang Zixia helped her up, then said: “In my opinion, the most crucial thing is to find out who this old friend was who commissioned her to come to the capital.”

“I should have asked at the time, but…” Chen Nianniang’s voice grew low and choked, “But I have no idea…”

Huang Zixia said: “In my personal opinion, someone who would entrust a task to a qin master must be of similar status or background. At least, it probably wasn’t a customer from Yunshao Garden. Most likely, it was one of the sisters from Yunshao Garden, and specifically, someone who had already left—that’s why they’d be called an ‘old friend.'”

“Yes, if we’re thinking along those lines, perhaps it was… someone she met during that period when we were separated.” Chen Nianniang counted on her fingers, speaking carefully: “Yiniang and I were together so many years, our social circles were very simple. After going to Yunshao Garden, I met everyone she knew. So I think this old friend must be someone she met during those years we were apart, someone she was close to but I didn’t know well. Otherwise, she would have told me who had commissioned her to escort someone’s daughter to the capital.”

“How long ago did you lose contact with Miss Feng? Are there any witnesses from that time still around?”

“It was fifteen years ago. Yunshao Garden was a place for singers and dancers, people came and went frequently. You might be happily together one day and scattered the next, let alone fifteen years ago. Most of the people from back then have vanished without a trace.”

“But I think someone who could entrust such an important task after more than a decade must have been more than a casual acquaintance. At least, something significant must have happened then to remain so memorable now,” Huang Zixia mused. “In all these years, didn’t Yiniang ever mention anything?”

Chen Nianniang thought for a moment, then suddenly exclaimed: “The Six Ladies of Yunshao…”

The Six Ladies of Yunshao—Huang Zixia immediately recalled Jinnu mentioning the six women who had founded Yunshao Garden. She quickly asked: “Miss Chen, could you tell me more about them?”

“They were the six most outstanding sisters among Yangzhou’s performers over a decade ago. They established Yunshao Garden together, naming it after Empress Wu Zetian’s Yunshao Palace. Even now, Yunshao Garden still enshrines a dagger that Empress Wu used while training horses!”

Huang Zixia was intrigued that a singing and dancing establishment would enshrine a dagger: “A dagger from when Empress Wu trained horses? How did it end up in Yangzhou?”

“The eldest of the Six Ladies of Yunshao was a descendant of Madame Gongsun. Back then, Madame Gongsun’s sword dance was famous throughout the realm, and Emperor Xuanzong bestowed that dagger upon her. After the An Lushan Rebellion, Madame Gongsun’s disciple Li Shi’er passed the dagger to her grand disciple, who became the first lady of Yunshao, Jiang Hengbo.”

“So, which of the six ladies was closest to Yiniang?”

“By the time I arrived, only the eldest sister Jiang Hengbo remained. The other five had reportedly married or left over the years. But Yiniang occasionally mentioned that if not for the Six Ladies of Yunshao, she couldn’t have escaped from the merchant who had bought her freedom. The merchant’s first wife wanted to resell her, but fortunately, the sisters at Yunshao Garden appreciated her talent and negotiated with the first wife, helping to secure her freedom. It’s a pity that after they married, they only exchanged occasional letters. Besides eldest sister Jiang Hengbo and third sister Lan Dai, I never met any of them. Though they were quite famous in the entertainment world, they were still performers by origin, so I think… marrying into high noble families would have been difficult.”

Huang Zixia nodded silently. Though she couldn’t be certain whether the person who commissioned Yiniang was one of the Six Ladies of Yunshao, it was at least a lead.

“By the way, Miss Chen, since you’re from Yunshao Garden, do you know Jinnu?” Huang Zixia suddenly remembered something and quickly asked.

Chen Nianniang replied: “Of course, I know her. My recent performances before the princes were all thanks to Jinnu’s connections—how else could I have met such noble persons?”

“Please tell me more about Jinnu,” Huang Zixia quickly grabbed her hand and asked, “For example, her previous life, who she was close to, or… her sisters and such.”

Chen Nianniang recalled carefully, slightly furrowing her brow: “In Yangzhou, Yunshao Garden had many performers, but Jinnu and I were both in the Ice Strings Pavilion, specializing in qin and pipa, so we occasionally met, though we were merely nodding acquaintances. In her Yangzhou days, her skills were outstanding among the younger generation. She was beautiful and enjoyed attending banquets and outings, a famous figure in Yangzhou’s pleasure quarters, with countless wealthy young masters and officials’ sons as companions, though she seemed to have no enemies. You probably know that although Jinnu lived freely, she had a good nature, was socially adept, and warm-hearted. When I was stranded in the capital, she just happened to see me on the street, immediately jumped down from Prince Zhao’s carriage to catch up, and upon learning of my situation, quickly helped me find an inn and paid several days’ rent. I think she must be good at managing relationships in the Imperial Music Bureau too, but as for sisters in Yangzhou or here, I don’t know about that.”

Huang Zixia could only ask about less important matters: “I heard her master was Mei Wanzhi, one of the Six Ladies of Yunshao?”

“I’ve heard about that. Mei Wanzhi was considered the instrumental music leader at Yunshao Garden. After she found five-year-old Jinnu and took her in, she treated her like her own daughter. Later, even after Mei Wanzhi had her daughter Xue Se, people said she wasn’t as good to Xue Se as she was to Jinnu.”

“Xue Se(Snow Color)… (Xue Se)Blood Color?” Huang Zixia muttered these two words, and suddenly, a flash of lightning struck her mind, sending first an icy chill, then a burning heat through her entire brain.