The man in tight-fitting clothes narrowed his eyes to examine closely. The woman had retrieved a jade pendant from the purple-clad girl—a feather-shaped pendant of a rare pale red hue, inscribed with seven characters: "Carefree and Worry-Free, Young Master Fang."
"Young Master Fang? Which Young Master Fang sent my little sister back? And how did he know her identity?" The man was both surprised and overjoyed. "This Young Master Fang must be my sister's benefactor. Once she wakes, we must question her carefully and reward him handsomely." The woman in tight-fitting clothes stepped outside to inquire, but the guards all claimed they had only seen a flash of yellow before the purple-clad girl flew into the house. No one had seen who brought her or how they left.
Half a day later, a gentle breeze stirred as the warm sun shone softly. Zhong Chunji slowly opened her eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling. Why... why wasn't she dead yet? Then she heard a gentle voice beside her, "Little sister, are you feeling better?" It was the voice of a young woman. She turned her gaze slowly and saw a concerned face that bore some resemblance to her own. Who was this?
"I..." The woman took her hand. "My surname is Zhao—Zhao Zongying. And this is Zhao Zongjing. Little sister, you are our youngest sister, originally surnamed Zhao, named Zhao Zonghui. We are the descendants of the late emperor and Empress Wang. Now, Brother Zongjing serves as the commander of the twenty-eight imperial guard divisions. We've been searching for you for a long time."
Zhong Chunji couldn't grasp her words at all and asked dazedly, "The late emperor?"
Zhao Zongying beamed. "Yes! Brother is of royal blood, and you, little sister, are a princess of the current dynasty."
Zhong Chunji stared at her in shock. "A... princess?"
Zhao Zongying squeezed her hand with a smile. "We had long received word that our little sister had grown into a beautiful yet melancholic young woman, well-read and exceptionally talented. Just look at how alike we are—no proof is needed to know you're my sister."
Held by her hand, Zhong Chunji felt an overwhelming warmth. Raising her eyes, she saw a tall, broad-shouldered young man standing nearby with a gentle smile, as if the two of them could hold up the sky for her. Her eyes reddened instantly.
Having grown up under Xue Xianzi's care—her elusive and eccentric master who was often absent—she had never experienced such familial warmth before. Tears welled up and spilled over, and suddenly, she burst into loud, heart-wrenching sobs.
Zhao Zongying and Zhao Zongjing exchanged glances. Zhao Zongjing stepped forward and gently stroked her head. Zhong Chunji cried as if her heart were breaking, and after a long while, she sniffled and asked, "Am I... really a princess?"
Zhao Zongying replied tenderly, "Of course you are."
Zhong Chunji wept, "How... how could I be a princess?"
Zhao Zongjing said, "Born of royal blood, a golden branch and jade leaf—of course you're a princess. There's no need to doubt it."
Zhong Chunji only shook her head. "I... I feel like all of this is fake... a lie. How... how could I be so fortunate? How could I deserve this?"
Zhao Zongying and Zhao Zongjing chuckled softly, stroking her head and comforting her patiently with soft whispers.
Twenty paces outside the house, hidden beneath the eaves of a nearby dwelling, Fang Pingzhai listened intently. When he heard Zhong Chunji's loud sobs and Zhao Zongying's gentle reassurances about taking her to the capital to experience its splendor, with no plans to linger here, he silently withdrew.Inside Shumei Residence, Liu Yan remained seated facing the wall, while Yu Tuan'er had moved a stool to sit by the door, gazing at the blue sky. Fang Pingzhai had advised Liu Yan to hide, but Liu Yan's idea of "hiding" was simply continuing to sit in the room, clutching his flute. Yu Tuan'er had urged him several times to take shelter in the cellar, but Liu Yan pretended not to hear. After repeated attempts proved futile, Yu Tuan'er settled on a stool by the main gate, resting her chin in her hand as she stared at the sky, resolved that if anyone came searching, she would carry Liu Yan and flee. As for where to escape, her thoughts naturally turned to the woods near Good Cloud Mountain—the place where she had grown up.
In the distance, a flash of yellow appeared as Fang Pingzhai sauntered back, his red fan swaying, glancing left and right. Spotting Yu Tuan'er sitting on a stool at the gate, he sighed from afar. "Seeing this situation, I can tell my dear master completely ignored my advice. Thankfully, I'm exceptionally clever and capable enough to have diverted the soldiers—otherwise, the consequences would have been truly dreadful, absolutely dreadful..." Yu Tuan'er, however, asked bluntly, "You didn’t die?" Fang Pingzhai choked on his breath. "Cough... Why would I die? Do you really think so little of me? Do you imagine that diverting soldiers means fighting to the death, and that I’d inevitably lose? And that only by knowingly facing certain defeat would I become some grand, heroic, handsome, and lovable figure? If not, you’d feel deeply disappointed, regretful, and sorrowful..." Yu Tuan'er waved her hand impatiently. "As long as you’re not dead, it’s fine. What about the soldiers?" Fang Pingzhai laughed. "Ah, the soldiers... Regarding that matter, I can only disclose it to my dear master, who probably wishes a boulder would tumble from that mountain outside and crush him to death." Yu Tuan'er retorted, "He’s not looking to die! Stop talking nonsense—he’s still inside." Fang Pingzhai lifted the curtain and entered, only to see Liu Yan’s back as before. "Dearest master, your disciple has successfully led the soldiers away. This place is now safe." Liu Yan didn’t respond. Swinging his red fan, Fang Pingzhai paced around the Elixir chamber. When Liu Yan remained silent, he continued to himself, "Do you know how I diverted them? I accomplished something so astonishing and glorious that few would believe it. Would you like to hear what it was?" Liu Yan ignored him. Fang Pingzhai turned around. "You’re dying to know, aren’t you? Aren’t you? Well, I’ll tell you. In the woods, I stumbled upon the current dynasty’s princess. I tossed her into the soldiers’ camp, and they left immediately." At this, Liu Yan’s brow furrowed slightly. "The princess?""The current Princess Langya is said to be the third daughter of the late emperor and Empress Wang. Rumor has it she's exceptionally learned, talented beyond measure, graceful and beautiful—like a celestial maiden descended from heaven." Fang Pingzhai rattled off enthusiastically, "And I found this very Princess Langya in the woods. Doesn't that sound mysterious? Like a miraculous encounter? Almost unbelievable, wouldn't you say?"
Liu Yan replied coldly, "If that were true, would you have dumped the princess at a military outpost?"
Fang Pingzhai hesitated. "Ah... Master, you know me too well. Actually, that so-called Princess Langya was the purple-robed girl who nearly sent Scholar Huang to meet King Yama. I don't know her name, but though she's pretty, she lacks the charm of a princess. Not my type."
Liu Yan closed his eyes. "Her surname is Zhong. Zhong Chunji."
Fang Pingzhai blinked in surprise. "You know her? Knowing such a disagreeable woman must be unfortunate—no wonder you never mentioned her."
Liu Yan said, "She's Xue Xianzi's disciple. Whether she's truly a princess or not, ask Xue Xianzi."
Fang Pingzhai tilted his head. "What do you mean by that? Are you implying she isn't a princess?"
Liu Yan opened his eyes—sharp, clear, and utterly calm. "I said no such thing."
Fang Pingzhai pointed a finger right at his nose. "But that's exactly what you meant."
Liu Yan stared back coldly, silent. After a moment, he closed his eyes again.
Fang Pingzhai sighed, draping his red fan over his head. "Fine. I never expected you to tell me the whole story clearly and completely anyway—so I won't ask. What now? The soldiers are gone. Master, are you finally going to teach me the Sound Assassination Technique?"
Liu Yan remained silent, eyes shut. Fang Pingzhai watched his face carefully. Though the man's skin was mangled and scarred, his eyelids were intact, and his eyes moved fluidly, betraying the subtle shifts in his thoughts.
After a long pause, Liu Yan finally spoke. "The Sound Assassination Technique does not exist for killing."
Fang Pingzhai nodded sincerely. "And then?"
Liu Yan continued, his tone flat, almost indifferent. "People love music because it conveys emotion. Thus, the art of music is merely a method of expressing one's feelings—some are more skilled at it, others less so."
He went on, "When the art of indulgence is cultivated to a certain level, one can use Internal Force to agitate the listener's qi and blood, damaging their internal organs. But the essence of Sound Assassination is not to kill. To learn Sound Assassination, you must first learn music.""Music?" Fang Pingzhai frowned. "What music? Which pieces can kill, and which can't?" Liu Yan replied indifferently, "Music has nothing to do with killing. If all you want is to kill, there's no need to learn music." Fang Pingzhai coughed lightly and lowered his head. "I—of course, it's for killing. That last line was a joke—believe it or not, up to you." Liu Yan gazed ahead, his eyes cold and distant for a long while before slowly retrieving a bamboo flute from his sleeve and playing a short melody. Fang Pingzhai listened intently, but Liu Yan abruptly stopped. "In the piece I just played, if you were to accompany it with drums, how many beats would there be?" Fang Pingzhai was stunned. "How many? Three... three places..." Liu Yan said coldly, "Nonsense! There are seventeen. This piece has seventeen drum beats. At this time tomorrow, I'll play it again. If you can't hit all seventeen beats by then, the Sound Assassination Technique is not for you." Fang Pingzhai stood dumbfounded for a long moment before furrowing his brows. His red fan froze mid-swing in front of his chest as he tilted his head to stare at the ceiling of the Elixir chamber, motionless.
He was desperately trying to recall the melody Liu Yan had just played. Though he had only heard it once, his memory was sharp enough to retain it. But where were the drum beats? If he were to accompany the piece, where should he strike? Seventeen beats... seventeen... where exactly should they fall? After a long silence, he pulled a small throwing knife from his sleeve, crouched down, and began drawing strange symbols on the ground. Of course, it wasn't proper musical notation—just random marks he used to record the melody, lest the tune slip from his mind.
Liu Yan didn’t spare him a glance. He stared at the wall, his mind blank. After a long while, what surfaced in his memory was a distant moment—the first time he had learned to play the drums. His teacher had looked at him with rare admiration because he was a six-year-old child who could memorize scores. He had agreed to teach Fang Pingzhai drumming partly because of his persistent pleas, and partly because Fang Pingzhai had a good sense of rhythm—he sang with abandon. But he hadn’t expected... that Fang Pingzhai might also have a talent for memorizing scores.
Not everyone could memorize music. But for someone who could, would seventeen drum beats really be a challenge? Liu Yan stared at the blank wall. Should he teach him or not? He knew the wager he had made with fate—before the game had even begun, he had already lost.
Outside the door, Yu Tuan'er peeked in. She had heard the music and now watched Fang Pingzhai’s dazed figure with curiosity. The odd man was finally quiet for once. "Hey!" She waved at Liu Yan. "Hey, hey, are you eating or not? I made duck soup for you." Liu Yan ignored her. After a long pause, he said, "I don’t like duck."
Yu Tuan'er outside the door beamed. "Then I'll eat the duck soup and make fish soup for you instead." This time, Liu Yan didn’t object, still facing away from the door, his eyes fixed on the white wall. Yu Tuan'er turned and skipped away, humming cheerfully. Lin Bu, who had been reading nearby, chuckled silently and shook his head.
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