The Double

Chapter 71: Unparalleled Beauty

Jiang Youyao gracefully ascended the examination platform.

It was already early August, the height of summer, yet today's weather was pleasant. Though it had rained throughout the night, the sky hadn't cleared. The cool morning breeze made Jiang Youyao resemble a flower bud about to bloom in the dawn—like a delicate pink lotus, tender and radiant, trembling as it blossomed.

Ji Shuran had deliberately dressed her for the occasion in rosy-hued garments that brought vivid charm to the morning. She carried herself like a true young lady raised in a wealthy, aristocratic household—every gesture refined and delicate.

The noblewomen nearby timely cast admiring glances toward Ji Shuran, who responded with a smiling nod. Even the Ji family members on the other side shared in the pride—their granddaughter was so outstanding, no wonder Li Pin received special favor from the Hongxiao Emperor.

Zhou Yanbang stood among the crowd. After Jiang Youyao stepped onto the platform, whether intentionally or not, she glanced in his direction, appearing too shy to linger, her eyes darting away after a brief look.

However, onlookers noticed this exchange and immediately teased Zhou Yanbang, calling out, "Third Miss Jiang has taken the stage!"

Nearly every official in Yanjing City knew of the engagement between Jiang Youyao and Zhou Yanbang, the heir of Marquis Ningyuan. Zhou Yanbang smiled, though the expression seemed somewhat forced.

The beauty remained as vibrant and lovely as ever, yet his heart had wandered elsewhere. He couldn't help but glance toward the other side, where Jiang Li sat. He saw her turned aside, speaking with a friend beside her, completely unaware of his gaze.

A bittersweet ache surged in Zhou Yanbang's heart. In that moment, he suddenly understood the peculiar joy of loving what one cannot have—more torturous than anything, yet more thrilling than anything.

In truth, Jiang Li had indeed noticed Zhou Yanbang's gaze. She found it both irritating and amusing—the original Second Miss Jiang had drowned because of Zhou Yanbang. Had the Ningyuan Marquis's household shown even the slightest concern for their future daughter-in-law, had they merely asked after her once, Second Miss Jiang's life might not have been so difficult. Unfortunately, they hadn't. Now that Second Miss Jiang was long gone, Zhou Yanbang's lovesick demeanor only came across as disgustingly hypocritical.

Jiang Li couldn't be bothered to acknowledge him.

As she pondered this, Liu Xu suddenly said, "Look, it's about to begin."

On the platform, Jiang Youyao had just finished washing her hands. She performed these actions with natural elegance. To be fair, Jiang Li thought, at least Jiang Youyao's demeanor when handling the zither was quite impressive.

Then, with a radiant smile, Jiang Youyao placed her jade-like fingers on the seven-stringed zither and plucked the first string.

Jiang Li said, "It's 'Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank.'"

Liu Xu was taken aback. "How did you know?"

As soon as she spoke, the music from Jiang Youyao's fingertips flowed out like a stream, the notes tumbling down—indeed, it was "Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank."

Liu Xu stared in astonishment. "Have you heard Jiang Youyao play this in the residence? Did you know in advance she would perform this piece?"

"No."

"Then how could you tell it was 'Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank'? She just started playing."

"Watch her movements. Besides, one note is enough," Jiang Li replied casually.Liu Xu, however, was not taking it lightly. She looked Jiang Li up and down for a moment before lowering her voice and saying, "Don't lie to me. You've studied the zither before, haven't you? Perhaps you're even quite good at it? But how could there be a zither teacher on Qingcheng Mountain? Unless you're a prodigy?"

Jiang Li found it both amusing and exasperating. "It's not that difficult," she said. As she spoke, she sensed someone staring at her. Glancing outside, she met Ye Shijie's gaze from a distance.

When Ye Shijie saw her looking back, he immediately averted his eyes, which surprised Jiang Li somewhat.

After turning away, Ye Shijie felt that his earlier action seemed like a clumsy attempt to cover up his true intentions, and he grew annoyed with himself. He thought he must have had too much time on his hands to worry about Jiang Li making a fool of herself today. That woman was cunning and always had another trick up her sleeve—who knew what unbelievable thing she might do today? Why should he bother meddling in her affairs?

"Brother Ye, what are you looking at?" someone beside him asked. It was Li Lian, the youngest son of Right Prime Minister Li Zhongnan.

Ye Shijie turned his head and replied, "Just looking around casually." Ever since Jiang Li had warned him that Liu Zimin and Li Lian were close and that Li Lian's attempts to befriend him might have ulterior motives, Ye Shijie had deliberately kept his distance from Li Lian.

Li Lian noticed Ye Shijie's attitude and smiled without saying anything. However, after Ye Shijie turned away, a flicker of curiosity flashed in Li Lian's eyes.

On the stage, Jiang Youyao played the zither exceptionally well.

"Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank" depicted the scene of wild geese flying across the autumn sky, sometimes circling, sometimes glancing around. As the ancient saying went, "It captures the desolate mood of clear autumn, with wild geese flying and calling," evoking "the crisp autumn air, the calm wind and flat sand, the vast expanse of clouds, and the distant cries of birds, borrowing the lofty aspirations of the swan to express the heart of a recluse."

The melody was graceful and flowing. Jiang Li hadn't expected Jiang Youyao to choose "Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank."She had assumed a young lady like Jiang Youyao would play a piece with a more delicate artistic conception." It wasn't that women couldn't play grand and majestic tunes, but because the sound of the zither reflected one's state of mind, how could Jiang Youyao's heart be so broad and unrestrained?

Yet Jiang Youyao played quite well.

"This piece is extremely difficult. Over the years, very few people have attempted it during the evaluations, and even those who did played it rather ordinarily. Jiang Youyao is the first to play it so excellently," Liu Xu murmured. "Such difficult fingerings, and she still managed to pull it off—she's not unfamiliar with it at all."

Hearing this, Jiang Li found it strange and asked, "Is this piece very difficult?"

"Of course!" Liu Xu immediately replied. "Among the ten famous zither pieces of Mingyi Hall, the simplest is 'Flowing Stream,' followed by 'White Snow in the Sunny Spring,' 'Three Variations on the Plum Blossom,' 'Drunken Fisherman Singing in the Evening,' 'Mist and Clouds over the Xiao and Xiang Rivers,' 'Dialogue Between the Fisherman and the Woodcutter,' 'Three Refrains on the Yang Pass,' and 'Guangling Melody.' Then comes 'Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank.' Speaking of which, it was precisely because of 'Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank' that Jinghong Xianzi became famous throughout Yanjing... Oh," Liu Xu suddenly remembered something. "No wonder Jiang Youyao's movements looked somewhat familiar earlier—they resemble Jinghong Xianzi's... Could it be that Jinghong Xianzi has been privately tutoring her?"

Jiang Li understood immediately. The Jiang family could afford the price, and Ji Shuran was determined to have Jiang Youyao shine brightly in this evaluation. It wouldn't be difficult for them to hire Jinghong Xianzi.

She asked, "That's only nine pieces.""The most difficult piece is 'Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute.' At least someone attempts 'Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank,' though they don't play it well. But 'Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute'—no one has ever performed it at the examination grounds all these years, not even the most skilled students, not even Instructor Xiao."

Instructor Xiao naturally referred to Xiao Deyin. Jiang Li thought to herself that Xiao Deyin had actually played it before. However, Xiao Deyin was overly obsessed with perfection, and her rendition of "Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute" always fell just a little short, so she simply refrained from playing it in public. In private, though, Xiao Deyin had worked tirelessly for years to master the piece and had even sought guidance from her.

But Xue Fangfei was dead, and no one knew about these things anymore.

Jiang Youyao continued playing. The wild geese in her melody displayed emotions of circling and gazing, postures of soaring up and down, scenes of gathering after flight, and the spirit of startling and rising again. Through Jiang Youyao's music, the various moods of the wild geese gradually unfolded, evoking the feeling of an autumn day with a clear, azure sky and geese passing without a trace.

Among the examiners, Xiao Deyin's expression shifted slightly, while Jinghong Xianzi watched Jiang Youyao's movements on stage with a hint of satisfaction in her eyes.

Just then, someone nearby spoke: "I wonder when the immortal also took on a disciple?"

It was the court musician, Mian Ju. Though now in his fifties, Mian Ju still carried the cheerful demeanor of a young man in his twenties, always laughing and joking. His coarse linen clothes were faded to a pale hue, making him look nothing like a musician who performed for the emperor. His tone was teasing, yet it carried a note of disapproval toward Jinghong Xianzi's actions.

Upon hearing this, Jinghong Xianzi's ears flushed red. She had long anticipated that Jiang Youyao's fingering techniques wouldn't escape the notice of an expert like Mian Ju, but being called out so directly still embarrassed and irritated her. Ever since she had redeemed herself and married into an ordinary merchant family—the son of a tea trader, not a wealthy one—many things had changed. She could no longer appear in public performances, but the necessities of life still had to be met. The silver Ji Shuran had given her was enough to support her entire family comfortably for several years, so she couldn't refuse the private tutoring of Jiang Youyao.

Fortunately, Jiang Youyao was a promising student after all. Teaching a talented disciple was far better than instructing someone with mediocre aptitude.

Mian Ju added from the side, "But this disciple of yours really isn't up to par."

Even with her gentle temperament, Jinghong Xianzi felt somewhat offended and asked, "Please enlighten me, sir."

"Don't blame this old man for being blunt," Mian Ju said with a chuckle. "This Third Miss Jiang has only learned your form, not your essence. She's captured about seventy to eighty percent of the myriad postures of the wild geese in 'Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank,' but the expansive, free-spirited essence—she's still far from it."

Jinghong Xianzi felt a surge of anger but knew Mian Ju was right. She was aware of Jiang Youyao's shortcomings and had tried hard to help her. However, in the art of qin music, instructors could only teach fingering and techniques; the heart of the music had to be grasped by the player themselves, and no one could assist with that. It was simply unavoidable that Jiang Youyao couldn't comprehend the heart of the qin.

"But she's just a young girl, with few worries at her age. It's normal that she can't grasp such profound artistic conception. To play to this level is already quite impressive. If nothing unexpected happens, she'll likely take the top spot today," Mian Ju added with another laugh.Upon hearing Mian Ju's words, Jinghong Xianzi felt somewhat relieved. She had never taken on a disciple nor given guidance to anyone. If Jiang Youyao, whom she had instructed, still failed to win the top prize, it would become a laughingstock.

While the two were speaking, neither Xiao Deyin nor the music official Shi Yan interjected. Xiao Deyin, as was his habit, remained discreet and refrained from unnecessary remarks, while Shi Yan's arrogance made him indifferent to their conversation.

Meanwhile, Ji Heng rested his chin on a fan, half-closing his eyes as if dozing out of boredom.

Jiang Youyao's graceful posture on stage, combined with her smooth and melodious zither performance of the highly challenging "Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank," undoubtedly made her the center of attention in the examination hall.

"That Third Miss Jiang is quite beautiful," Li Lian remarked abruptly.

Ye Shijie felt a twinge of distaste, believing it improper for a gentleman to openly discuss a young lady's appearance. Yet, Li Lian's comment was quickly echoed by others, who began expressing their admiration for Jiang Youyao.

On the other side, a young woman stared resentfully at Jiang Youyao on stage and muttered, "What a pretentious display! Utterly disgraceful!"

This was Shen Ruyun.

Shen Ruyun, who harbored feelings for Zhou Yanbang, naturally held no fondness for his fiancée, Jiang Youyao. Watching Jiang Youyao steal the spotlight filled her with bitterness and envy. Shen's mother, standing beside her, chimed in, "She doesn't act like a well-bred young lady from a respectable family."

They failed to consider that Jiang Youyao was the daughter of the current Grand Secretary. In terms of social standing, the Shen family were mere commoners. If not for Shen Yurong achieving the top scholar title, Shen Ruyun wouldn't even qualify as Jiang Youyao's maid without being scrutinized first.

"She thinks she plays so well, but she's not half as good as my sister-in-law used to be," Shen Ruyun blurted out.

No sooner had she spoken than Shen's mother pinched her harshly, and Shen Ruyun immediately realized her mistake. The Shen family now strictly avoided mentioning Xue Fangfei. What if someone overheard and provoked anger? It was wiser to be cautious in all matters.

Shen Ruyun fell silent.

At the Jiang family's seating, the usually taciturn Jiang Yuyan couldn't help but remark, "Third Sister plays beautifully."

Jiang Yu'e felt irritated, wondering why Jiang Yuyan was flattering Jiang Youyao. But with Ji Shuran present, she forced a smile and said, "Of course. Third Sister has always been clever and gifted in zither. She's sure to win today's top honor. No one else dared to choose 'Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank,' only our Third Sister had the courage, and she played it flawlessly. In my opinion, in a few years, no one in Yanjing City will be her match."

Ji Shuran responded, "Yu'e, don't flatter your Third Sister like that. If outsiders hear this, they might laugh at her for not knowing her limits. There will always be someone better. Your Third Sister still has much to learn."

Despite her words, Ji Shuran's smile was unmistakable, and the pride in her eyes felt piercing to Jiang Yu'e.

Jiang Yu'e thought to herself that she was no less capable than Jiang Youyao, but only because the eldest branch of the family had wealth and influence could they hire the finest tutors. If she had the same opportunities as Jiang Youyao to learn from renowned masters, she too could shine in the examination hall.Why wasn't she born into the main branch? Why were her parents particularly illegitimate children? Had they been commoners, it might have been bearable, but among the three Jiang households, why was hers the most ordinary?

Jiang Yu'e was utterly unwilling to accept this.

Her discontent went unnoticed by anyone. At that moment, Jiang Li was also watching Jiang Youyao's examination.

"She plays... really well," Liu Xu said with difficulty, as though reluctant to admit the truth. Yet the reactions of the crowd said it all—compared to last year, Jiang Youyao had widened the gap between herself and others by a significant margin.

Jiang Li remarked, "But she lacks the heart of the qin."

"The heart of the qin?" Liu Xu was taken aback.

"In the final part of 'Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank,' the composer expresses the realization that the world is treacherous, unlike the nature of wild geese. Once they land, the sand is flat, the waters stretch far, the mind is at ease and leisurely, companions harbor no suspicions, and males and females are orderly. The music is tranquil and beautiful, lingering softly—stillness within movement, movement within stillness, both movement and stillness in harmony, with a light and graceful posture," Jiang Li explained in detail. "But because Jiang Youyao's heart of the qin lacks a touch of 'detachment,' her music misses a hint of 'lightness.'"

Liu Xu listened to Jiang Li intently.

"My third sister has indeed mastered 'Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank' to perfection, but even if she plays it a thousand or ten thousand times, as long as she fails to grasp the artistic conception and touch the heart of the qin, her music will inevitably lack something. She will not be the best."

"What you say makes sense," Liu Xu conceded, sensing the nuance, but then shook her head. "You make 'the heart of the qin' sound easy, but it's not something one can touch so lightly. Some qin masters spend their entire lives without ever reaching it. As for the students of our Mingyi Hall, I doubt any possess it. Grasping the artistic conception is far too difficult!"

Jiang Li smiled. Indeed, asking young ladies raised in inner chambers to comprehend the vast, open, and detached spirit of wild geese in the boundless world seemed like a fool's dream. Not just young ladies—even ordinary people might never encounter such a realization in their lifetimes.

As they spoke, Jiang Youyao's qin piece approached its end. She executed the final passage beautifully, the music halting abruptly. Soon, cheers and applause erupted in waves across the examination grounds—something none of the previous female students had received.

Jiang Youyao, honored by this distinction, was delighted and smiled even more radiantly. After bowing to the examiners, she descended from the platform unhurriedly.

Liu Xu's palms were sweaty with nerves. She said to Jiang Li, "What should we do? It's your turn."

"It's fine," Jiang Li had to comfort her in return. "I'll be back soon." As she turned to leave, Liu Xu grabbed her sleeve.

"Wait!" Liu Xu said. "I haven't asked you—what are you planning to play?"

Jiang Li smiled at her. "Something no one has ever played." With that, she walked away first.

Liu Xu stood rooted to the spot, muttering, "Something no one has ever played, no one has ever played... She..." Her gaze suddenly froze, staring in disbelief at the retreating figure heading toward the examination platform.

"It can't be..."

As Jiang Li ascended, she happened to pass Jiang Youyao on her way down. When they crossed paths, Jiang Youyao smiled sweetly and said, "Second Sister, I wish you well."

Jiang Li replied without looking back, "Of course."

A child wearing a red scarf stood on the examination platform and called out, "The thirteenth candidate, Jiang Li."

The entire hall fell silent.Jiang Li stepped onto the examination platform.

"Look, your sister's going up," a meddlesome youth beside Jiang Jingrui nudged him while making a commotion.

"Quiet." Jiang Jingrui was somewhat irritated.

Noting his expression, the youth remarked curiously, "What, are you actually waiting to hear your sister play some divine music? Young Master Jiang, have you lost your mind?"

All the young men knew about the scandal Second Miss Jiang had caused eight years ago, and that she had spent eight years in a nunnery. Everyone tacitly assumed Second Miss Jiang was an uneducated good-for-nothing. Even if she had won first place in Mingyi Hall, it would be difficult to shake this ingrained impression in a short time. While subjects like literature, mathematics, and etiquette could potentially be studied in a nunnery, music, charioteering, and archery were not things one could learn there.

Jiang Jingrui's face turned as dark as a pot bottom. Though inwardly uncertain himself, he felt indignant hearing others speak of Jiang Li this way and snapped angrily, "Are you blind? Just watch and see."

"Watch we shall," the youths replied with chuckles.

Amid their lively chatter, they failed to notice that the Heir of Marquis Ningyuan beside them had his gaze fixed on Jiang Li on the platform, unwilling to look away for a long time.

Jiang Li was burning incense and washing her hands.

When she first learned to play the zither, she knew nothing about burning incense or washing hands. Incense was a luxury item, used by wealthy families. Tongxiang was poor, and Xue Huaiyuan's meager salary was barely enough to get by, let alone afford a decent guqin. Xue Huaiyuan carved a zither for her out of wood. That zither was what Jiang Li used when she first started learning; it was very stiff to play, with a dull tone. Once Jiang Li learned how to play properly, she refused to use it anymore.

Her second zither was a trophy Xue Zhao won in a martial contest. At that time, Xue Zhao had been provoked by someone from a wealthy family who owned a very fine seven-stringed zither. Knowing how much she yearned for a good zither, Xue Zhao seized the opportunity and made a bet with the person: if the other lost, he had to give up the zither.

That zither represented a significant sum for the Xue family, but was nothing to the other family. Jiang Li could still vividly recall that day when Xue Zhao rushed excitedly through the door, placed the seven-stringed zither from his back onto the table, and proudly said to her, "Sis, this zither is for you!"

Later, that zither stayed with her for a long time.

She played "Evening Song of the Fisherman" on it, as well as "White Snow in the Sunny Spring," "Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank," and "Three Variations on the Plum Blossom."

Just as a fine sword suits a hero, when she first started learning, she felt that only a good zither could match great skill. But as time went on, her mindset became more open and generous—there weren't that many exceptional zithers in the world. Good zithers were common, but great zither masters were rare.

What a pity...

What a pity that later, when she married Shen Yurong and moved to Yanjing, Shen's mother said that as a married woman, she should take on the responsibilities of the household and could no longer indulge in poetry and music as before. That zither was locked away in the Shen family's storeroom, covered in dust, left regretfully in the darkness.

It was said that after Xue Fangfei died, the Shen family burned all of Xue Fangfei's belongings. Presumably, that seven-stringed zither, filled with her memories and overflowing with the affection of her father and brother, also turned to ashes in that great fire.

Jiang Li lowered her eyes. Strangely, at this moment, her heart was exceptionally calm.

"What's wrong with her? Why hasn't she started yet?" someone asked impatiently, seeing her prolonged inaction.

"Could it be that Second Miss Jiang doesn't know how to play the zither and is just standing there dumbfounded?"Someone analyzed: "That's quite possible. There's no place to learn the qin in the nunnery."

"If you really can't play, just forget about it. Why insist on saving face only to end up embarrassing yourself?"

"It's about pride, isn't it? Admitting you can't play would be too shameful."

"Hey, standing here frozen isn't exactly honorable either, is it?"

The air was filled with a cacophony of mockery, scorn, pity, and sympathy. Ye Shijie looked at Jiang Li with a hint of anxiety in his eyes. What was wrong with Jiang Li? The last time he saw her, she was clever and calculating. Why was she now at a loss? Where had her intelligence gone?

Jiang Li remained silent on the examination platform, bringing simultaneous delight to Jiang Youyao and Jiang Yu'e. If Jiang Li could do nothing on this stage, even if she had previously achieved top honors in the three upper disciplines, it would not hide the fact that she was a laughingstock.

Ji Shuran spoke with concern, "What's wrong with Li'er...?"

"Could it be that Second Sister doesn't know how?" Jiang Youyao murmured to herself, shaking her head. "How is that possible? Second Sister is the most intelligent, having taken first place in the three upper disciplines. Her performance in music certainly shouldn't be poor."

Her words, rather than helping, only fueled everyone's doubts about whether Jiang Li's previous achievements were truly deserved.

Seeing Jiang Li motionless on the stage, Meng Hongjin's heart bloomed with joy. The gloom of recent days vanished instantly, and she wished Jiang Li would take a tumble on the platform, utterly humiliating herself.

Even Xiao Deyin below the stage frowned, signaling a young attendant to step forward and remind her. If Jiang Li did not act soon, she would be forced to leave the stage.

Just as the red-scarfed attendant prepared to approach, without warning, Jiang Li suddenly began to speak.

"Bright winds flow as the moon rises,

New woods bloom with brocade flowers.

Lovers play in the spring moonlight,

Graceful figures sway in silken robes."

It was a folk tune, and Jiang Li's singing was not in the official dialect of Yanjing but resembled a local patois, carrying a lively flavor.

"What is this?" Jiang Youyao asked Ji Shuran.

Ji Shuran shook her head; she had never heard it before.

"It sounds like a local ditty from somewhere," Lu Shi of the second branch said, her eyes lighting up. "Could it be that Li Yatou learned it from mountain folk during her time at the nunnery?"

That seemed plausible.

Jiang Li remained completely unaffected. She still did not pluck the strings of the guqin but sat before the ancient instrument, singing this unfamiliar tune to the entire audience.

"Green lotus covers the emerald water,

Hibiscus blooms in vibrant red.

My love wishes to pluck me,

But my heart longs to embrace the lotus."

Her voice was clear and gentle, pure as an undiscovered stream, tranquil yet lively, flowing like melting spring snow, carrying sunlight and morning dew, dawn's glow and evening breeze.

It was like a lotus-gathering girl in the mountains meeting her beloved for the first time, the innocent feelings of youth sparking instantly, quickly sprouting and growing into lush greenery, fragrant with flowers and plants.

"Autumn wind enters through the window,

Silk curtains billow and flutter.

I look up at the bright moon,

Entrusting my feelings to the distant light."

The girl, lost in her lover's smile, poured all her tender emotions into the moonlight. She was pure and adorable, originally joyful, but love had also taught her sorrow.

Love was wonderful; it made everything lovely. It made one forget how brief spring and summer were, that autumn had arrived, and winter was not far behind.

She sang, "Once we parted when spring grass was green,

Now I return to see snowflakes drift.

Who knows the bitterness of longing?

Dark hair turns white with grief."

Her song came to an abrupt halt.

Seasons changed, and the singing girl ultimately waited in vain. Her youth had passed, and it was unclear whether time had wasted her or she had wasted time.

Jiang Li's voice was pleasant, but her singing was even more captivating. Unconsciously, the audience at the examination grounds was drawn into this crisp little tune, lost in a sweet yet sorrowful dream.

Someone murmured, "What is the name of this tune? I've never heard it before."

"I don't know," another shook their head. "It doesn't sound like the Yanjing accent."

Near Princess Yongning, Shen Yurong suddenly looked up, staring at the girl on the stage. He had heard this song before...

It was a widely circulated folk song from Tongxiang called "Midnight Songs of the Four Seasons." Almost every girl in Tongxiang could sing it. A faint smile touched Jiang Li's lips; she had sung it too.

Below the stage, Xiao Deyin furrowed her brows, lost in thought. Jinghong Xianzi looked surprised, Shi Yan remained stern and expressionless, while Mian Ju danced with joy, exclaiming to Jinghong Xianzi, "This young lady is interesting! In the music category, it's always about the qin, yet she sang a song—and it's quite good!"

"That won't do," Jinghong Xianzi explained patiently. "If she doesn't compete in qin music, it's just a clever trick. It wouldn't be fair to the other students."

Mian Ju pursed his lips, about to speak, when he noticed something and chuckled. "Clever trick? Look, even the Duke has been awakened by her song."

It turned out Ji Heng had opened his eyes at some point, resting his fan against his lips as he smiled subtly at the girl on the stage.

This was the first time since the beginning that Ji Heng had shown any sign of "listening."

On the other side, Jiang Yu'e remarked, "Is Second Sister only planning to sing a song and not play the qin?"

Although the song was novel, the music category had always been about the "qin," not the "song."

It seemed Second Miss Jiang had truly run out of ideas, resorting to singing instead of playing. Just as everyone was thinking this, they saw Jiang Li extend her hands and place them on the strings, plucking them.

The first note flowed out.

"Gah—" Someone watching nearly choked. "She's going to play."

"Quick, listen to what she's—"

Before the word "playing" could be uttered, a stream of fluid qin notes swept through the air, even more captivating than Jiang Youyao's performance, as if someone were carving directly into their hearts with a knife.

"She's playing 'Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute'!" someone recognized it, their voice trembling with excitement.

At these words, the listeners' expressions changed. "Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute"—even the instructors at Mingyi Hall couldn't play it properly, and a single mistake would turn it into a joke. How dare Jiang Li attempt it?

How many years had it been since anyone played "Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute" at the examination grounds?

The venue fell silent. In the stillness, someone suddenly burst into laughter—it was Mian Ju, dancing with joy, looking nothing like a court musician. He was ecstatic: "It's 'Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute'! This young lady has guts! She's bold!"

Jinghong Xianzi sighed helplessly. "Sir, please be quiet."

Mian Ju immediately chuckled sheepishly and fell silent.

Thus, only Jiang Li's qin music remained in the examination grounds.

"Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute" depicted a woman's longing for her homeland, the sorrow of separation from her child, and her vast resentment. The emphasis was on "sorrow." Never mind the instructors, the female students at Mingyi Hall were all young noble maidens in their carefree, innocent years. Even if they had some worries, they were trivial matters. How could they possibly convey the essence of "sorrow"? Even "grief" was difficult to express.

Though people often spoke of empathy, how could it be as simple as four words? Only saints with compassion for all under heaven could achieve it.

Meng Hongjin sneered, "She truly doesn't know her limits. She's just making a fool of herself..."

She thought Jiang Li would inevitably play the piece poorly. If Jiang Li could play it well, wouldn't that mean she was more talented than all the brilliant young ladies Mingyi Hall had produced over the years? How was that possible?

But her mockery gradually faded, and her expression grew increasingly grim.

Jiang Li's fingering was remarkably skilled, as if she had studied the qin for decades. Her movements were elegant, without a hint of affectation or artifice, effortlessly light and natural.

The girl sat on the examination platform, the breeze gentle and the sunlight faint. Her wide sleeves billowed, the vibrant green striking and her delicate charm captivating. For a moment, the examination grounds transformed into a deep mountain valley, free from the restlessness of the marketplace of fame and fortune, as if she were playing for herself alone.

She was playing for herself.

Jiang Li's gaze did not fix on any one point, yet it seemed to take in everything before her.

The composer had left her homeland and been separated from her child. Jiang Li had not only left her homeland and lost her child but also seen her family destroyed and her loved ones perish.

The one who shared her pillow was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Her family had been wiped out in this unjust disaster. What was even more hateful was that her enemies continued to rise in status. Since her rebirth, she had finally seen her enemies again, yet she could not avenge her father and brother here and now. She had to restrain herself.

Forbearance was sorrow; blood-soaked vengeance was sorrow; wrongful death was sorrow; the misfortune of an entire family was sorrow. Oppression by power was sorrow; heaven's blindness was sorrow. Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow!

The qin's notes rang out sharply like a sword piercing the sky. In that instant, a vast resentment surged upward, leaving listeners heartbroken and overwhelmed with grief.

Sorrow! Resentment! Heart-wrenching pain!

After many years, someone had finally played "Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute" at the examination grounds. Initially, everyone thought it would be impressive if the girl could merely remember the fingering completely. But Jiang Li not only remembered it completely but also executed it fluently. Her demeanor showed no unfamiliarity with the piece.

That alone was remarkable, but how could a fifteen-year-old girl convey such "sorrow"!

"At the twelfth stanza, sorrow and joy are balanced,

Parting and staying, two emotions hard to express.

At the thirteenth stanza, the strings quicken, the melody grieves,

My heart and liver are pierced, yet none know me.

At the fourteenth stanza, tears stream down,

The river flows east, my heart lost in thought.

At the fifteenth stanza, the rhythm grows urgent,

My chest filled with anguish, who understands this tune?

At the sixteenth stanza, my thoughts stretch endlessly,

My child and I are in separate lands.

Sun in the east, moon in the west—we gaze in vain,

Unable to be together, my heart breaks in emptiness.

Facing the daylilies, my worries remain,

Strumming the qin, how my heart aches!

Now I leave you to return to my homeland,

Old grievances deepen, new resentments grow.

Bleeding tears, I look up to the heavens,

Why was I born to suffer this calamity alone?"

Xiao Deyin's usually gentle expression stiffened. Upon closer inspection, her fingers trembled slightly. Jiang Li's qin music, at least in "Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute," far surpassed her own abilities. The skill Jiang Li displayed in this piece could even qualify her to be Xiao Deyin's teacher!

Yanjing's top qin master now seemed like a joke.

Jinghong Xianzi was also astonished. As a married woman and mother, she cared little for fame and fortune, so a young prodigy surpassing her did not make her nervous. She was merely puzzled: how could a fourteen-year-old girl comprehend the sorrow and resentment in "Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute" so thoroughly? Even if Jiang Li had lost her mother at a young age and been sent to a nunnery at seven, even after eight years of hardship in the mountains, these sufferings were not entirely the same as the "sorrow and resentment" in the qin piece.

It was simply unbelievable.

Mian Ju was the happiest of all. His eyes gleamed as he stared at Jiang Li, like a miser discovering a massive gold nugget, drooling with desire, unable to look away. He even murmured, "She's a born qin master!"

Shi Yan was more composed than Mian Ju, but hearing Jiang Li's qin music moved him, gradually softening his previously arrogant demeanor. As a music official, he was not as uninhibited as Mian Ju, but he appreciated good qin music wholeheartedly.

Last among the four was Ji Heng.

The entire audience was captivated and enchanted by Jiang Li's qin music. The melody seemed to have a bewitching effect, filling every listener with a sense of desolation, as if they were witnessing barren, scorched earth where no grass grew, reminding them of their own sorrows, making it hard to maintain composure.

Qin music possessed such magic. Legend had it that demon qin masters could use their music to lure people into illusions they created, causing them to lose themselves. There were probably no demon qin masters in the world, but there were skilled qin masters who could convey their hearts and emotions through their playing.

While everyone else was captivated by the qin master, only one person remained unmoved.

He was not like Jiang Youyao or Meng Hongjin, who grew jealous from the music, nor like Xiao Deyin, who feared the skill, nor like the others, lost in the melody. He simply watched Jiang Li, the smile on his lips unchanged.

Ji Heng was observing Jiang Li.

His long eyelashes made his eyes appear especially captivating, as if he too were intoxicated by the music. But upon closer inspection, one could see he was entirely awake. He had isolated himself from the qin music, as if he had also separated himself from the crowd.

He watched Jiang Li play the qin as if watching a troupe perform at his mansion. He observed the audience's enchantment with Jiang Li's music as if watching a play within a play.

The myriad expressions on and off the stage, the bustling mortal world—he was like an aloof beauty standing outside the drama, watching coldly, content to be a spectator.

He remained clearly detached.

Some were detached, others were captivated. But what about the one playing the qin, Jiang Li?

She was enveloped in immense sorrow. The qin's lament and the sorrow in her heart seemed to form two mutually amplifying shadows, vying to stretch longer. She seemed split in two: one was the crazy Xue Fangfei, weeping and expressing her sorrow through the music; the other was Jiang Li, calmly observing the audience's reactions.

"At the seventeenth stanza, my heart and nose ache,

The mountain passes long, the road ahead difficult.

When I left, my heart was troubled,

Now returning, parting from my child, my thoughts stretch endlessly.

At the eighteenth stanza, the melody ends,

Yet its echoes linger, my thoughts boundless.

Thus I know strings and bamboo are all works of nature,

Sorrow and joy follow the human heart—change brings understanding.

The Hu and Han are different lands with distinct customs,

Heaven and earth separate us, child in the west, mother in the east.

My bitter resentment stretches vast as the sky,

Though the universe is wide, it cannot contain it."

Sorrow always has an end; the qin music must eventually conclude.

After plucking the final note, Jiang Li abruptly ceased. Following the resounding echo was an empty silence.

No one spoke. It was as if all heaven and earth were silently mourning this sorrowful qin music.

Below the stage, Liu Xu felt a cold dampness on her face. Reaching up to touch it, she realized her cheeks were wet with tears. Looking around, she saw many others had also shed tears upon hearing the music, all lost in a sense of wistfulness.

"Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute" had finally been played at the examination grounds. And the folk tune that preceded the eighteen stanzas only added to the mournful color of this tragic piece.

Involuntarily, everyone turned their gaze to Jiang Li on the stage. Had they not seen it with their own eyes, no one would have believed that a fifteen-year-old girl could play such a piece.

The girl stood on the examination platform, the wind whipping her hair. She lowered her head slightly, making it hard to see her expression, yet she seemed exceptionally tranquil.

Jiang Li sighed deeply in her heart. As soon as she looked up, she froze.

She met a pair of beautiful, elongated phoenix eyes, filled with playfulness.

Ali [shyly]: Please turn around for me, four mentors~

Ji Heng: (/▽╲)

First subscription request upon release! Dear readers, please support the official version on Xiaoxiang Academy~ Mwah (づ￣3￣)づ╭?～

(End of chapter)