The Qin was originally a pair.
Phoenix’s blood, forging the body into a Qin, this was a beautiful legend, a legend that if the Fengwei Qin and Huangwei Qin played a melody together, the heavens would display anomalies.
Regardless of whether the legend was true or false, the Huangwei Qin had found its master, and this was a fact.
Mo Chou did not expect Young Master Wuqing to be so generous. However, she had secretly observed him recently. Young Master Wuqing seemed to like her lady, which could explain why he had gifted the rare ancient Qin to her mistress.
Mo Chou walked, holding Xiao Yuer, smiling all the way, her face beaming with joy. From time to time, she asked the Xiao Yuer in her arms.
"Xiao Yuer, what do you think if my lady and Young Master Wuqing were together?"
Xiao Yuer frowned. Life was already fraught with worries. Who was truly the right person for whom, one could not tell until the very last moment.
By the lake.
Mu Qingyao began to play again. Wuqing watched her quietly. Her dedication, her stubbornness, her perseverance, everything attracted his gaze. He could no longer hide his feelings; he was drawn to her.
He did not seek her response, only wishing to watch her was enough. Perhaps this was Heaven’s kindness to him.
Sometimes, what is lost is gained, and what is gained is lost again. Life is impermanent…
Qingyao thought of Wuqing’s words: to turn the Qin into a weapon, one must first become a demon, or feed on blood; only then would the Qin become a sharp tool.
Thinking of this, Mei Xin’s pretty face flashed in her mind. A layer of sorrow slowly enveloped her heart. Because of this sorrow, her Qin music became slow and mournful, like a song of weeping, as if someone was softly sobbing, a gentle sorrow cast under the azure sky.
Suddenly, she remembered Mei Xin’s final death. Her heart ached with anger. The Qin music abruptly turned high-pitched. Her pupils became dark and sinister, her lips curled into a cold smile, her black hair suddenly flared as if blown by a strong wind, dancing in the breeze, even her long skirt billowed upwards.
The Qin music carried a bloodthirsty killing intent, playing out powerful, overwhelming currents of energy. Waves of ripples swept across the lake. The clear, cold spring exploded with waves tens of feet high, scattering outwards powerfully, followed by more powerful waves. She herself seemed to be trapped in a bewitching state, losing control.
Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. Her eyes were bloodshot red. Her hands moved faster and faster, becoming more and more fierce. It was not she who controlled the Qin, but the Qin controlled her; she had lost herself.
Wuqing was greatly alarmed, his expression changed. He stretched out his arm, and the Fengwei Qin was already in his hand. He pressed down with his powerful internal energy, and with a deafening roar, he shattered all illusions.
Qingyao was suddenly repelled by the Qin. With a loud bang, she stumbled back several steps and sat on the ground. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Her expression was indifferent, and she remained unresponsive for a long time.
A flicker of heartache flashed in Wuqing’s eyes. He slowly turned his wheelchair, reached out, took out a white silk handkerchief, and gently wiped the blood from her lips. His movements were gentle, his eyes clear, and he spoke softly.
"You were too impatient. You almost went berserk."
"I almost went berserk," Qingyao came back to her senses. She looked up at Wuqing. His eyes were as clear as a fresh spring, capable of soothing people’s hearts, and her flustered heart instantly settled.
If he hadn’t forcefully pulled her out of the illusion just now, she would have probably died from bleeding from all seven orifices.
"Thank you."
She said softly. It seemed she had been too impatient. This Qin was different from others; it couldn’t be mastered in a day or two. It was better to practice slowly in the future.
"It’s alright. You need to open your heart. Don’t dwell on the Qin. When you have free time, practice your hidden weapons more, or study medicinal herbs. Don’t just focus on practicing the Qin. If you continue like this, it’s easy to go berserk."
Although Wuqing couldn’t bear to scold her, he still reminded her. Today, he was present. If he hadn’t been there, she might have gone berserk. One must not be impatient in anything; impatience only ruins things.
"I know."
Qingyao nodded. At this moment, she felt very hungry. Let’s go back for lunch. She stood up and walked to the Qin stand, picked up the Huangwei Qin, and caressed it up and down like a treasure.
The Qin was entirely emerald green. The seven strings were made of natural silk, soft and smooth. Moreover, the jade was a rare ancient jade. One could imagine that this Qin was priceless. She hadn’t expected Wuqing to give it to her.
Thinking of this, Qingyao felt she owed Wuqing a huge favor. She truly didn’t know how to repay him.
"Let’s go back."
A gentle breeze blew. She held the Qin in one hand and pushed him with the other, slowly leaving the herb field. The two of them appeared completely natural…
The Imperial Palace of Xian Yue Kingdom.
After several months of arduous journey, Emperor Xian finally returned to the palace.
In the Liuli Palace, Ah Jiu wept with joy. Seeing the Emperor, who had lost weight, she spoke with great distress: "Your Majesty, you are finally back. This humble servant misses you dearly."
The man seated on the throne, after his journey to Heavenly Mountain, had an air of refined elegance added to his domineering aura. He was as bright as the moon. On his face, which resembled a jade crown, his eyes were deep and dark, and the corners of his lips curved into a smile that was exceptionally dazzling, making it impossible to look away after a single glance.
"Did anything happen in the palace?"
Murong Liu Zun swept his gaze over Ah Jiu and Prince Nan’an. His departure from the palace was known only to Prince Nan’an and Ah Jiu. Prince Nan’an, whose appearance had been restored, had not spoken a word from beginning to end. He remained silent, his face grim.
"Prince Nan’an, what happened?"
Murong Liu Zhao raised his head, his dark pupils extremely sinister. He glanced at his imperial brother on the throne, then finally looked at Ah Jiu.
Murong Liu Zun knew he had something to say. He immediately waved his hand, signaling Ah Jiu and the young eunuch in the main hall to leave first. Then, a warm, jade-like smile spread across his face, and he spoke slowly, "Tell me, what happened?"
"Reporting to my imperial brother, this subject has committed a heaven-shattering mistake. I beg His Majesty to punish me. This subject is willing to die."
After saying this, Prince Nan’an knelt down with a thud, his head bowed, as if petrified, unmoving.
Murong Liu Zun did not know what had happened. His narrow eyebrows slightly raised, a fiery spark leaped twice, and finally, he spoke heavily, "Prince Nan’an, what exactly happened?"
"Reporting to Your Majesty, during the time this subject impersonated His Majesty, an incident occurred. This subject dares not conceal it from His Majesty and only seeks death to atone for his guilt."
Prince Nan’an spoke with a grim expression.
The Emperor did not know what had happened. Following his words, his bright eyes seemed like a boundless abyss, fixedly gazing at him.
"Speak."
"One day, when this subject was drunk, he did something improper with Consort Shu, Ximen Xinyue. This subject is willing to die."
Prince Nan’an finished in one breath. Feeling ashamed, his entire face turned red, and regret flickered in his dark eyes.
That night, because he thought of the Emperor going to fetch Qingyao, he felt depressed and drank a little too much. He was strolling in the Imperial Garden when he mistook Ximen Xinyue for Qingyao and committed such a disgraceful act.