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墨書 Inktalez
In fact, the Art of the Guqin is the only skill I take pride in. Since childhood, I have studied under the best guqin masters in the capital, earning the title of Genius Guqin Player. Unfortunately, over the years, I have focused on pleasing the Ji Family, nearly neglecting my craft.
Thus, I settled down at Li's music shop and began my life as a guqin teacher. The conditions were harsh; I lived in a small attic and slept on a hard bed, but it was better than being homeless.
After finishing a lesson with my student, I collapsed on the guqin bench, gazing out at the setting sun. "Miss, you play beautifully," Li said as he brought in a bowl of hot soup, admiration evident in his eyes. "It's just casual playing," I replied with a forced smile. Li shook his head. "I've taught guqin for a lifetime and have never seen anyone as talented as you."
"What good is talent?" I said bitterly. "Look where it has led me." Li sighed and patted my shoulder. "Life has its ups and downs; who can predict it? You should rest well."
Every night when silence fell, I would secretly take out the Double Lotus jade hairpin and reminisce about the past. Do I hate it? Of course. But more than that, I feel disappointment in myself. I, Shen Zhi Yi, was blind to mistake fish eyes for pearls.
Days passed one after another; business at the music shop improved, and my student count grew. Sometimes I even thought that this simple life wasn't so bad.
Until that rainy night.
A ragged young servant rushed into the shop and handed me a letter. "I’m from Shen Residence; Second Master sent me to deliver this." My hands trembled as I opened the letter, and a line of text pierced my eyes—my father was gravely ill.
The news struck like thunder. I collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down my face. Father, your daughter is unfilial; I couldn't even see you one last time.
Li brought me hot tea and urged me to grieve quietly. I wiped my tears and began preparing to return to the capital for mourning.
Just then, an esteemed guest arrived at the music shop—Murong Huan. He wore a Crescent White Robe, looking travel-worn yet concerned. "Miss Shen," he said upon seeing me, surprise flashing in his eyes, "I didn't know you were here."
I managed a curtsey. "Young Master Murong."
"I heard about your father's passing," Murong Huan said softly. "My condolences."
I was taken aback. "How did you know?" Had he been watching me from afar?
"Though Nan Zhang is small, news travels fast," Murong Huan replied with a slight smile. "Master Shen has served in court for many years and is highly respected; his passing naturally spread quickly."
I bit my lip, holding back tears.
"Thank you for your concern, Young Master. I was just planning to return to the capital for my father's funeral."
"I can send someone to escort you," Murong Huan said, "but are you sure it's wise to go back now?"
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
Murong Huan stepped closer, lowering his voice. "The situation in the capital is quite complicated right now."
"Just say it," I interrupted impatiently.
He sighed. "Your father's inheritance has already been divided between your Half-Sister and the the Ji Family. They've spread rumors saying you eloped and are unworthy of inheriting the family assets."
A chill ran through me, and anger surged within.
"How dare they!" I shot up, my teacup crashing to the floor, shattering into pieces.
Murong Huan gently pressed down on my shoulder. "So, if you go back now, you'll likely face even more difficulties. It would be better to gather your strength here first."
I let out a cold laugh. " Young Master Murong, why are you telling me all this?"
"We're merely strangers who crossed paths; why are you so concerned about my affairs?"
Murong Huan paused for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"Miss Shen is indeed clever," he said, clapping his hands. "You're right; I do have an agenda."
He looked me up and down. "I've been searching for a musician to teach my sister how to play the guqin."
"She has talent but a peculiar temperament; ordinary musicians can't teach her."
"I heard you're teaching music here and thought I'd take a chance."
"Is it really that simple?" I regarded him coldly, skeptical.
"Of course," Murong Huan replied with a smile. "If you agree, I can offer you ten times the salary you'd get here."
"Additionally, I can help you gather information about the capital to prepare for your future return."
I felt tempted.
Not only because of the generous offer but also due to the mention of "preparation."
Indeed, I needed allies.
"Alright," I took a deep breath, "I accept your proposal."
Thus, I moved into the Murong Residence.
The Murong Residence was even more impressive than I had imagined—deep courtyards, rockeries with flowing water, exuding an air of distinction everywhere.
"This is no ordinary household," I muttered to myself.
Murong Huan's sister, Mu Rong Yao, was indeed as he described—peculiar—but Art of the Guqin was undeniably exceptional.
"You play beautifully," Mu Rong Yao remarked as she tilted her head to examine me during our first meeting. "Much better than those old men."
"Thank you," I smiled. "You have great talent too."
"They all say I'm hard to teach," Mu Rong Yao pouted, "but I just dislike those pretentious people."
For some reason, I found myself quite fond of this straightforward little girl.
Meanwhile, Murong Huan kept his promise and continuously brought me news from the capital.
"Ji Hanzhou has officially married your Half-Sister," one day Murong Huan said as he looked at me, "and he has been promoted to a fifth-rank official."
"Oh?" I feigned nonchalance, but my heart felt as if it were being sliced by a knife.
"Your family fortune has indeed been divided among them."
Every time I heard such news, I gritted my teeth in anger.
One day, while I was teaching Murong Yao to play "Guangling San," a commotion arose outside the door.
" Sister Zhi Yi, it's bad!" Murong Yao rushed in, her small face flushed. "The the Ji Family is here!"
My heart skipped a beat. "The the Ji Family? Who?"
"It seems to be Ji Hanzhou's brother, Ji Hanchuan."
I let out a sigh of relief, but at the same time, wariness crept in.
What could the the Ji Family want?
Fortunately, Murong Huan hid me away and claimed not to know any Shen Zhi Yi.
The members of the the Ji Family left in disappointment, but I knew this was just the beginning.
Three months later, Murong Huan suddenly told me he was going to host a music gathering.
"This is an opportunity," he said, "a chance for more people to get to know you."
I didn’t understand his intentions but agreed nonetheless.
On the day of the gathering, the Murong Residence was adorned with lanterns and filled with guests.
I changed into a white gown and styled my long hair up, appearing cool and elegant.
" Sister Zhi Yi, you look beautiful today," Murong Yao exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.
Little did she know that I was so nervous my palms were sweating.
It was the first time in three years that I would perform in front of so many people.
As I began to play the guqin, the entire hall fell silent.
I forgot everything; it was just me and the instrument.
The music flowed like a babbling brook at times and roared like thunder at others, pulling everyone's emotions through waves of highs and lows.
When the piece ended, thunderous applause erupted.
I lifted my head and saw Murong Huan's satisfied smile and—one familiar face.
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