A flawless final note concluded the exquisite melody, leaving Lou Xiwu entranced for a long moment before she recovered. Through the sheer veil, she noticed Zhuo Qing quietly standing aside in the courtyard, having entered unnoticed. Lou Xiwu called out, "Why are you here? Didn't you just leave?" Zhuo Qing gave an embarrassed shrug and replied, "Such beautiful music—I came to indulge my senses as well." Though not well-versed, it did not prevent her from appreciating the artistry.
The man in white placed the guqin on his lap down and slowly rose to look toward those behind him. Curious, Zhuo Qing glanced over and, squinting against the backlight, finally discerned his face. At that moment, she was utterly stunned... Could anyone truly possess such ethereal beauty? His immaculate visage was chiseled like sculpted jade, lips as vividly red as a winter plum blossom, and eyes deep and tranquil like a still pond, threatening to drown the unwary. His perfect features stood in stark relief, and the flowing white robes he wore radiated a jade-like elegance.
Lou Xiyan also often wore white, yet her aura was refined, graceful, and dignified, gentle as polished jade. In contrast, this man exuded an aloof, ethereal coolness—detached and distant. The man's steady gaze met hers. Zhuo Qing bowed slightly and introduced herself politely, "I am Qing Ling."
Accustomed to admiring glances, his expression remained serene as still water. Yet, upon hearing the name Qing Ling, a faint ripple crossed his indifferent face as he asked, "Hao Yue Qing Ling?"
Sweat. The fame of the Qing sisters was truly far-reaching. Zhuo Qing awkwardly answered, "I believe so." The man said no more, only nodding gently before replying, "Su Mufeng." Su Mufeng—a melodious name.
Zhuo Qing, who preferred direct eye contact when speaking, suddenly noticed the subtle silver glimmer within his dark eyes. At first glance, it was unremarkable, but on closer inspection, those silvery-gray irises swirled like a vortex, mesmerizing and impossible to look away from. Perhaps she was staring too much.
Unable to contain herself, Lou Xiwu lifted the veil and stepped forward, scolding, "Hey, have you finished ogling? Don't think you can act without restraint just because my brother's not here!"
Startled by her outburst, Zhuo Qing came to her senses and, seeing Lou Xiwu's fierce demeanor, exclaimed in surprise, "Jing Sa, you're here too?"
At the mention of Jing Sa's name, Lou Xiwu was thrown into a panic and quickly looked back. Yet behind her, only the delicate flower pavilion stood—no one else in sight. Realizing she had been tricked, Lou Xiwu flew into a rage and shouted, "Qing Ling! How dare you deceive me!"
Liking to see her act so shrewdly, Zhuo Qing spread her hands and smiled slyly, "I behave the same way when Lou Xiyan is here. But you—without Jing Sa around, you turn into a little wildcat, huh?!"
"You!" Whether from anger or embarrassment, Lou Xiwu's cheeks flushed. She glared at Zhuo Qing and huffed, "Go away. Don't disturb my practice!"
"Practice?" Zhuo Qing glanced at Su Mufeng, who stood silently to the side, and asked, "Are you the harpist?"
"Yes."
He did not quite seem like one; his bearing transcended that of a mere harpist—or rather, he seemed more than just a musician. Intrigued, Zhuo Qing stepped back a few paces and leaned against the stone pillar beside the pavilion, smiling, "Please, continue. I'll just listen in."
Who invited you to eavesdrop? Lou Xiwu was about to protest when a soft female voice drifted gently from the courtyard gate: "Might I also be permitted to listen?"
Everyone turned to see a slender, graceful figure approaching. Yan Ruxuan still wore the pale yellow gown but had shed her straw hat. Her complexion was slightly pale and worn, her frail form supported by palace maids, eliciting a pang of sympathy.
Zhuo Qing observed this so-called rival carefully. When they first met, Yan Ruxuan had worn palace maid's attire, head bowed low. Even then, Zhuo Qing knew she was beautiful. Though now somewhat haggard, it did nothing to diminish her allure. Her youthful face bore a misty sadness in her eyes, a faint melancholy; if she were a man, surely one would feel pity.
Yan Ruxuan raised her head slightly and met Zhuo Qing's gaze. Zhuo Qing nodded graciously, but Yan Ruxuan quietly looked away, uncertain how to face this woman's scrutiny.
Lou Xiwu despised Yan Ruxuan's sickly yet haughty demeanor. She gave a perfunctory bow and said, "Greetings, Princess."
"Xiwu, there is no need for such formalities between us," Yan Ruxuan replied.
She never understood why Xiwu disliked her so much, even from childhood—no matter how she tried to befriend her, she was always met with cold indifference. Having said her piece, Lou Xiwu turned away, unwilling to entertain her further.
Yan Ruxuan's temper flared, but just as she was about to protest, a gentle tug on her sleeve silenced her fury. The atmosphere in the courtyard grew awkward until a calm, low male voice resonated: "Greetings, Princess."
Yan Ruxuan quickly looked toward the white-clad man and bowed slightly, smiling, "Master Su, I trust you are well."
Su Mufeng returned a faint smile, "I am well, Princess. Thank you for your concern."
Their exchange suggested familiarity. Zhuo Qing arched a brow, surprised Yan Ruxuan even saluted him—his identity must be noteworthy.
"The Master's melodies are serene and far-reaching; each time I hear them, my heart finds peace. Might I be so fortunate today to hear the Master play 'Cloud Garment's Tale' once more?"
It was the music that had drawn her here. He had played 'Cloud Garment's Tale' before, though she hadn't appreciated it then. Now, having grown, she finally understood its essence.
Su Mufeng gently shook his head. "The Princess's mood today is not suited for that piece. Allow me to perform another composition."
With no choice, Yan Ruxuan nodded.
Su Mufeng settled cross-legged, the guqin resting partly on his lap and partly on the lush grass. His long fingers traced the strings, effortlessly producing three octaves of beautiful notes. Zhuo Qing could not grasp the intricacies but recognized the fluidity of the melody.
The opening flowed like water, then shifted mid-piece to a slow, somber bass. Each crisp note seemed to pierce the soul, stirring a gentle melancholy. Suddenly, with a subtle push of his left hand, the tune ascended once more, and as the music swelled, the mood lifted into calm joy. The final harmonics rang clear and soft, like droplets wearing away stone.
When the music ended, none stirred, still immersed in the exquisite performance.
At last, Yan Ruxuan sighed softly, "Thank you, Master. May I ask the name of this piece?"
Her weariness was evident—even Su Mufeng perceived the shadows clouding her heart. 'Cloud Garment's Tale' was a lament; for her, he had chosen a piece winding yet peaceful. His insight into people remained as sharp as ever.
Rising, Su Mufeng smiled, "It is called 'Heart's Purity.'"
"Heart's Purity," Yan Ruxuan repeated with a wry smile. "A fitting name, and the Master's rendition only enhances its beauty." Only he could breathe such life into a composition.
Gently placing the guqin back into its rosewood case, Su Mufeng addressed Lou Xiwu, "It grows late. Let us end the lesson here. I take my leave."
"Suer, see Master Su out," Lou Xiwu said reluctantly, inwardly cursing Yan Ruxuan for her disruption. Without her interference, they might have learned more. It had taken much effort to secure Su Mufeng's tutelage for her brother.
"Master, this way please." Su Mufeng followed the maidservant out of the courtyard but suddenly paused and looked at Zhuo Qing. "Miss Qing, should fate allow, I hope to one day discuss the essence of music with you."
Without waiting for a reply, he strode away. Zhuo Qing blinked in confusion and turned to Lou Xiwu. "Who is he?"
Lou Xiwu rolled her eyes. "He is the fourth son of the Su family, a renowned musical lineage. From childhood, he displayed extraordinary talent, mastering every instrument, especially the guqin and the flute. Anyone who has heard him is entranced. At sixteen, he performed 'Phoenix Returns to Nest' at a grand ceremony, astonishing the world and earning the Emperor's immediate title of 'Qiong Yue's Premier Musician.' He is the youngest and most celebrated harpist in Qiong Yue; princes, princesses, and nobles vie for his instruction."
Understanding dawned on Zhuo Qing. "I see."
Her dazed expression made Lou Xiwu laugh. "You should have known his name! Why the blank look?"
Su Mufeng's fame was unparalleled, especially among aristocracy and noble families. Zhuo Qing retorted boldly, "I lost my memory."
Always forgetting this fact, Lou Xiwu scolded herself silently and suggested, "He will be teaching here for a while. Why not join us and learn from him?"
Zhuo Qing quickly shook her head. "No, since my amnesia, I remember nothing about this. I doubt I could learn anyway—no point in troubling him."
Or herself. To her, music was simply divided into pleasant or unpleasant sounds.
Lou Xiwu refused to give up. "Perhaps the more you engage, the more you'll recall. Your harp skills were once famed across six kingdoms. It'd be a shame to forget so completely."
Despite knowing Qing Ling's musical prowess, Zhuo Qing shook her head firmly. She didn't even recognize musical notation; it would be like casting pearls before swine! With a forced laugh, she said lightly, "What's done is done. Let fate decide."
"No one acts like that!" Lou
Xiwu muttered, unconvinced.
Watching Su Mufeng's retreating figure, Zhuo Qing wondered if this meeting was more than coincidence. Something deep within stirred—a melody she could almost recall but just beyond reach.
The courtyard settled into quiet once more, but the echoes of the guqin lingered, haunting and beautiful.