Lihuadu

The door suddenly opened. The late summer heat lingered, yet a chilly wind swept in. Liu Zhiluo looked up at the sound, her hands fiddling with her old zither.

"Close the door tightly," Liu Zhiluo said expressionlessly.

"Is this how musicians speak to the Imperial Preceptor?" Fu Qinxiang still had the door closed. Outside the door was a pear tree in bloom, even though it wasn't pear blossom season, it was still in bloom, almost eerily.

"We all have one mouth, one nose, and one eye on our faces. Why should we distinguish between noble and lowly people when we speak?" Liu Zhiluo didn't even look up, still tuning her instrument.

"What arrogance. The street performer from the music hall has now become a musician. He is under the emperor's protection and has some confidence now. Don't forget, a rat is still a rat. Even if he steals a zither from a golden den and is noticed by the master, he is still a rat wearing a precious coat."

Liu Zhiluo didn't care; arguing with Fu Qinxiang about it was pointless. She simply nodded slightly.

Fu Qinxiang approached and lowered her voice: "You are Jiang Heng's only living relative. If anything happens to you, his heart will die completely."

Liu Zhiluo chuckled, "So you've come to kill me. Not bad, but opportunities aren't always in your hands." She slowly pulled out a hairpin and held it between her fingers. Fu Qinxiang's expression turned slightly panicked—the woman in front of her had killed two sedan chair bearers, and this action was bound to end in a life-or-death struggle. "So many years have passed, and you've killed Jiang Zhong, yet you haven't achieved your 'great cause'? Are your accomplices not shrewd enough, or can't you afford to support your assassins? Oh, perhaps you're afraid that the Empress Dowager's soldiers are more disciplined than your dogs, and that you'll become a defeated bandit."

"Believe it or not, I'll kill you right now and make your precious son starve to death?!" Fu Qinxiang gritted her teeth. She never expected that a gentle and submissive woman would dare to strike at her sore spot.

Liu Zhiluo placed her hand close to her neck, where the throbbing was so vivid, it was not only a life blossoming, but also a soul making a vow. She squinted and said, "Why don't you guess whether Jiang Heng will hate you to the bone after this hairpin pierces my neck, and then confront you for the rest of his life?"

Before Fu Qinxiang could speak, the guards beside her quickly stepped forward, snatched the hairpin, and subdued her.

“Then he will be the next Jiang Zhong.” Fu Qinxiang said calmly.

"Using Jiang Zhong to pressure me? That's too old-fashioned. A strong wind reveals the strength of the grass, and turbulent times reveal the loyalty of a minister. Whether he lives long or not, it will only make the country more prosperous," Liu Zhiluo smiled mysteriously again. "Jiang Heng calling you Grand Preceptor is just his inherent humility. He's doing it out of respect for Jiang Zhong. Don't be ungrateful."

Fu Qinxiang's face was ashen, and she stood rooted to the spot, saying after a long while, "I regret not killing you all."

“Killing is a dead end. You killed Jiang Zhong. Do you think you’re not afraid of him in your dreams? You killed me and Jiang Heng. Now, three pairs of eyes are watching you so you can see clearly that your path is blocked!” Liu Zhiluo said casually. “You’re still young. Turning back sooner is the right thing to do.”

"That's so cliché!" Fu Qinxiang interrupted. "I'm used to killing. Would you accept charity from a butcher whose hands are stained with blood?" With that, she looked down at her intricately patterned palms and gave a self-deprecating smile.

“Zhao Peiming is the same; he’s a butcher too. You hate Zhao Peiming, don’t you?” Liu Zhiluo said to herself. “He’s stained with the blood of innocent people, just like you, but he’s helping himself to free himself. Saving oneself is saving others.”

"He was single-mindedly devoted to expanding the country's territory, which not only cost the lives of his own soldiers and the families of tens of thousands of militiamen, but also made life miserable for the people on the border. Moreover, most of the corpses he traversed were the mournful souls of foreigners. His hands were as dirty as yours, but his heart was not."

How did Liu Zhiluo know so much?! Despite thinking this, Fu Qinxiang still scoffed: "Which general throughout history wasn't like this? If you have the heart of a bodhisattva, don't go to war! That's his choice. If he's loyal to the emperor and loves his country, he should defend the borders. If he suddenly decides to betray the country, then he'll risk his parents' lives! We have no right or wrong in this, we only hate that he's not my dog!"

“That’s right. The choice is up to the individual, but,” Liu Zhiluo smiled, “I saw a pitiful child burdened with hatred.”

Fu Qinxiang was taken aback.

She turned to look at Liu Zhiluo's smile. It was a smile of resignation, like a drifting duckweed, as if life and death were predestined.

Fu Qinxiang was almost in despair—if a person is not even afraid of death and has the courage to endure being torn to pieces, then her killings are meaningless. This was also the smile Jiang Heng gave her when they first met.

She had seen many smiles—mostly bitter smiles from those begging for mercy on their deathbeds, and most obsequious smiles from those in and around the court—but she had never seen a smile like this. She was terrified.

"From now on, power will be your only pursuit! Remember that! Lust may not belong to you, but it can be your weapon!"

"Fu Gou deserves to die! He deserves to die!"

"Use them, don't treat them like human beings."

Fu Qinxiang was so touched by a thousand fingers that she could not move an inch.

The world has been indifferent to her; she has long lost the ability to experience happiness. To deprive others of the happiness they deserve, and to revel in their pain and hatred, is the best form of revenge.

"Elder sister, do you get haunted by evil spirits when you sleep at night? Do you dream that they are trying to take your life?" A small hand tugged at the hem of her clothes.

"No, I slept soundly through the long night without any dreams." She had lied, but this was just the most insignificant of countless lies. Fu Qinxiang shook off that hand and hurried forward, though it was more like she was fleeing in panic.

"Give me back my family, give me back my life. What a joke! I have no family, friends, or lovers, but I have power. I can kill whoever I want!"

But those who are inherently fearless of death are hard to kill. To be precise, killing them is not a pleasant experience.

"I saw a poor child burdened with hatred." The voice drifted softly, yet sounded like a tolling bell.

Fu Qinxiang suddenly awoke from her dream.

Liu Zhiluo stared straight at her, her eyes bright like two will-o'-the-wisps, glowing with a faint green light.

Fu Qinxiang was terrified. Her guards rushed to help her up, but were pushed away. "Lock her up! Without the Emperor's personal summons, she is not allowed to leave the house!"

“You’ve run out of tricks. You can’t lock me up—can you lock up a bird and then lock up its singing voice?” Liu Zhiluo’s echo resonated in Fu Qinxiang’s mind.

"Slit her throat, so she can't make a sound anymore!" Fu Qinxiang said in a trembling voice.

The guard rushed forward, brandishing a knife and stabbing it straight at Liu Zhiluo's throat. She grabbed the blade, startling the guard so much that his hand went limp. "From now on, wherever I am wounded, Jiang Heng will hate you a little more. One more enemy, or perhaps he's unwilling to give up and wants to win you over more? My lord, it's up to you."

"—Let her go!" Fu Qinxiang turned and left.

—————

"No matter how angry you are, you can't hurt yourself." Tang Yao said worriedly, looking back and forth at the shocking scabs on Fu Qinxiang's arm.

Tang Yao's concerned expression and actions might seem ordinary to others, but Fu Qinxiang had never felt anything like it before. She made up her mind to deliberately cause some new injuries in the future.

"Aren't you afraid of this scar?" Fu Qinxiang asked, her voice rising in a childlike anticipation, as if she were experiencing both pain and pleasure.

"Many of the musicians in the brothel longed to return home, always thinking that by harming their bodies and skills, they could go back. Many cut off their own hands or tongues, but without exception, they were all secretly executed by the manager. Only the dead could return home. This rule gradually became known to everyone." Tang Yao recalled, shaking her head helplessly.

"Then what about you? You probably haven't done that before, have you?" Fu Qinxiang asked curiously.

Tang Yao shook her head and said, "No. If something happens to me, my brother will be doomed."

Is he really that important to you?

“Of course! Because family members are always connected by blood, even if they are physically separated, they are still connected in spirit,” Tang Yao said to herself. Suddenly seeing Fu Qinxiang lost in thought, she blushed and said, “Please forgive me.”

“It’s alright,” Fu Qinxiang suddenly looked up devoutly, “Then if we call each other sisters, are we considered family?”

Tang Yao smiled like a spring breeze: "Fine!"

"Sister, please don't hurt yourself anymore. It breaks my heart."

"Okay." She just needed to pretend it was his injury. Fu Qinxiang thought. She sniffed the incense in the room; it carried the delicate scent of lilacs. The decorations were also light, mostly adorned with flowers and jewels, a stark contrast to the gold, silver, and gemstones in her own room. Tang Yao sat opposite her, her little face always flushed.

"What do you want?" Fu Qinxiang asked urgently, "Do you want Tang Ying promoted?"

“No. I have overstepped my bounds and interfered in politics, causing dissatisfaction among the people. If I were to use our sisterhood to help my brother get promoted, I would not only be unable to hold my head up in front of the whole world, but I myself would certainly not be at peace. My only wish,” Tang Yao took Fu Qinxiang’s hand, “is that you, my sister, may live a long and happy life.”

Fu Qinxiang shivered and instinctively tried to break free, but she still teased, "Does tormenting ordinary people make me happy?"

"Then torture me first, let me stand in front of them." Tang Yao's eyes hardened slightly, but her hands gripped tighter and tighter, so resolute that they became almost imprisoning.

"Alright, I'll torture you first!" Fu Qinxiang said, and then scratched Tang Yao's neck. Their laughter echoed outside the house, where the guards stood at the door with tears in their eyes.

Born into a music troupe, Tang Yao's social standing was inherently lowly, so she lacked the arrogance of a young lady and possessed the simple sentiments of ordinary people. She wondered if she might one day act foolishly and let Tang Yao be the first to suffer the consequences. But when Tang Yao's delicacy clashed with her own roughness, the gentle ripples seemed to wash away all her grime, making her feel as if she had never killed anyone, and as if she were just an ordinary person who supported herself by wielding a hoe, plucking a stringed instrument, or writing. Fu Qinxiang thought a lot.

Tang Yao can make lotus leaf soup and minced meat noodles. Fu Qinxiang doesn't like them, but she's willing to try the local flavors to make herself look more "human".

As for the guard, she was absolutely certain she would steal the strings that night—it wasn't just a mission, but also a battle of wits, a struggle within her own heart. For several nights in a row, the guard crouched by the window, the ice string lying obediently in her carefully crafted pouch, a corner peeking out as if showing off, asleep in Tang Yao's arms. The guard had no choice but to give up. Why couldn't she just kill Tang Yao? She thought to herself, sheepishly reporting back to her master. However, her master wasn't as upset as she was; instead, she seemed strangely delighted.

This isn't right. But I'll just take it as my master spoiling me. The guard lay in the tree, breaking off branches to comfort himself. Why did I have to end up with her? The more he thought about it, the more unwilling he became, but he still smiled and accepted it.

The strings were lost without my noticing, and it seems they can never be retrieved.

If we can't get it back, we won't. Anyway, it's ended up in the hands of someone who cherishes it more.