Chapter 75 Yang Guifei (V) Song of the Wei Bamboo

While the morning dew was still condensing on the bamboo tips, Lin Jiaojiao had already woken up.

The luminous bead beside the pillow was emitting a soft light. It was the one that Ling had asked Cui'er to hide in the secret compartment in the wall last time. Holding it at night, I always felt like holding a little warmth from the outside world.

She stood up and opened the window. The sound of a middle-aged Taoist nun sweeping the floor came from outside the yard. It was a little later than usual. Perhaps it had rained a little last night, making the bluestone road difficult to sweep. The Taoist nun's broom always stayed under her window for a while longer. Lin Jiaojiao had long been accustomed to this vague surveillance.

"Are you up early today?" The connection to his consciousness was suddenly gently tapped. Zero's voice was extremely low, trembling with a slight electric current. "I'm in the side hall of the East Palace, nine miles away from you. I can only speak a few words. Zhao Heng's people said there's an ancient zither from the previous dynasty in the Guanli Music Library. If you're bored, you can go find it to relieve yourself. Don't stay indoors all the time and arouse suspicion."

Lin Jiaojiao paused, then responded in her mind, "How do you know about Leku? Be careful when contacting me, don't let Li Linfu's spies find out."

"Don't worry, I've used a method to block the energy." Ling's voice was as light as the wind. "The music vault was discovered by Zhao Heng while he was investigating the layout of the temple. It's hidden behind the woodshed in the west corner, where few people go. Just say, 'Practicing Taoism requires tranquility, and I want to use the music of the zither to soothe my mind.' The nun in charge won't stop you—she'd rather you focus on your cultivation and stay out of other people's business."

The connection of consciousness was suddenly broken, like a severed thread.

Lin Jiaojiao stared out the window in a daze. Her original self, Yang Yuhuan, was already proficient in music and dance, but the music of the prosperous Tang Dynasty was mostly old songs such as "Three Variations on Plum Blossoms" and "Moon over the Mountains". If she wanted to create something, she might as well write a new song that fits the scenery of the Wei River, which is neither ostentatious nor boring.

After breakfast, Lin Jiaojiao found an excuse to go to the front yard: "Senior Sister, I've been feeling restless lately. I heard there's an ancient zither from the previous dynasty in the temple. I'd like to borrow it to play and use the music to calm my mind and cultivate my Tao."

The nun in charge was copying scriptures when she glanced up at her. Her plain robe had been washed pale, and her eyes were a bit tired, making her look like someone deeply immersed in spiritual practice. She waved her hand and said, "There's a small music room behind the woodshed in the west corner. The key is on the lintel. Go get it yourself. Don't lose your zither."

Lin Jiaojiao thanked him and went around to the woodshed in the west corner. The music room was a half-collapsed blue brick house. As expected, a rusty copper key hung on the lintel.

When she pushed the door open, a cloud of dust rose up, choking her and making her cough twice. There were only two rows of wooden shelves in the room, piled with a few yellowed old music scores. In the corner stood a paulownia wood guqin. The body of the guqin was covered with dust, but the strings were not broken.

She wiped the dust off the piano with her sleeve and gently pressed her fingertips on the strings. The clear sound of the piano spread in the empty room, startling the gray sparrows on the beams.

The memories of the original body suddenly flooded into his mind - those insights into musical rhythm and the lightness and heaviness of fingering were so clear that they seemed to have happened yesterday.

Lin Jiaojiao played along with the music, not copying the old tune. Instead, she slowly outlined the melody based on her impression of the bamboo forest by the Wei River. The beginning of the tune was like the gentle breeze in the bamboo, the transition was like the ripples on the Wei River, and the ending had a long aftertaste, just like the twilight she saw in the temple.

"Let's call it 'Weizhu Yin'." She murmured softly, and her fingertips wrote down the notes on the rough hemp paper. She didn't use the old score from the music library for fear of leaving traces.

In the following days, Lin Jiaojiao always went to the music library under the pretext of "chopping wood".

Early in the morning, before the nuns woke up, she would take some hemp paper and go to write the music.

In the afternoon, I practiced the piano in the shadow of the woodshed. The sound of the piano was blocked by the firewood and could not be heard too far away. Only when the wind blew occasionally could a few clear sounds be heard.

The middle-aged Taoist nun would occasionally ask, "Master Yang, why does he always go to the woodshed?"

She just smiled and replied, "The woodshed is quiet and suitable for copying scriptures."

The Taoist nun flipped through the scripture in her hand and saw that it was indeed full of words, so she didn't ask any more questions - she didn't see that there was hemp paper full of musical notes hidden in the interlayer of the scripture.

That afternoon, Lin Jiaojiao was revising the ending tune of "Weizhu Yin" when her fingertips suddenly touched a tiny crack under the body of the instrument - it was a secret compartment.

With a sudden thought, she carefully pried open the secret compartment. Inside was a folded piece of hemp paper. Written on it was Ling's handwriting, using a code only they understood: "Li Linfu wants to ask for permission at the end of the month to take his niece as a concubine. I'm stalling by claiming 'my mourning period hasn't ended'. If you have any unusual intentions, write the message on a bamboo slip and hide it under the third bluestone slab on the wall."

Lin Jiaojiao's heartbeat suddenly quickened as her fingertips stroked the line of words, the ink still having a slight dampness - it must have been Ling who asked Zhao Heng's people to secretly deliver it last night.

She quickly tore off a piece of hemp paper and wrote with charcoal, "There is nothing unusual in the temple at the moment. The nun in charge has been mentioning 'The Eastern Palace is selecting a concubine' recently." She folded it into a small scroll and stuffed it into the secret compartment. She then restored the body of the zither as if nothing had happened.

While practicing the piano in the evening, the consciousness link suddenly lit up, and Ling's voice was a little relieved: "Did you see the letter in the secret compartment? I was afraid that sending someone to deliver it would attract attention, so I had to use this method. I will never marry Li Linfu's niece, don't worry."

"I know." Lin Jiaojiao responded in her heart, her fingertips plucking the strings of the zither. The melody of "Weizhu Yin" flowed slowly. "I wrote a new song called "Weizhu Yin". When I have the chance, I will play it for you. By the way, the Taoist nun in the temple said that the Eastern Palace is selecting a concubine. Is this Li Linfu's idea?"

"It was his test, to see if I would obey." Ling's voice grew colder. "I've already had Zhao Heng spread the word that 'Prince Shou is nostalgic and won't consider remarrying'. Let's stabilize the situation first. Don't mention this in the temple, lest the nun in charge spread it."

The connection between consciousness and her mind was broken again. Lin Jiaojiao sat in front of the piano, her fingertips still on the strings.

She looked at the bamboo forest outside the window and suddenly wanted to choreograph "Weizhuyin" into a dance - when she raised her hands, it was like bamboo leaves trembling gently, and when she turned around, it was like water flowing around rocks. These were scenes she often saw in the temple. She secretly memorized the dance steps and practiced them for a while only when no one was around. Her plain Taoist robe spun in the shadow of the woodshed, like a bamboo swaying in the wind.

Once when they were practicing dancing, a nun delivering food happened to pass by and was so frightened that she almost dropped the food box in her hand: "Master Yang, you... you dance so beautifully!"

Lin Jiaojiao quickly stopped her movements and signaled her to speak softly, "Don't make any noise, I'm just stretching my muscles after practicing Taoism."

The little nun nodded, but quietly put two more pieces of jerky in the food box - she had long noticed that Lin Jiaojiao never ate the porridge in the temple, so she always helped hide some dry food in private.

As the days passed, the score of "Weizhu Yin" gradually became complete. Lin Jiaojiao also wrote down the dance steps on hemp paper and hid it in the secret compartment of the piano.

She didn't dare to contact Ling often. When there was important news, she would hide a bamboo slip with a secret code under the bluestone slab on the wall of the temple. For example, "The Taoist nun in charge will deliver a letter to the palace on the fifth day of every month" and "The Taoist nuns in the front yard have two new faces, they look like spies." Ling would always reply quickly, and the handwriting on the bamboo slip became more and more concise, but it always came with the words "Take care of yourself."

That morning, when Lin Jiaojiao went to the music library, she found an extra piece of hemp paper in the secret compartment of the zither. On it was a note written in the name of Ling: "Your Majesty will go to Mount Li at the end of the month. I can go to the other courtyard under the pretext of 'praying for blessings'. It's five miles from the viewing wall. We can then use our consciousness to connect. If you've practiced 'Weizhu Yin' well, you can play it for me. I can hear it."

Lin Jiaojiao held the hemp paper, and her fingertips felt slightly hot.

She walked over to the zither and gently plucked the strings. The melody of "Weizhu Yin" spread out in the morning light, softer than usual. She was afraid that the sound would spread too far and be heard by someone who shouldn't be. The shadows of the bamboo outside the woodshed swayed in and fell on the music paper, as if adding a bit of vitality to the notes.

The sound of the middle-aged Taoist nun sweeping the floor was heard again, but this time she did not stop under the window and walked straight over.

Lin Jiaojiao knew that Ling's plan was slowly progressing, and all she could do was to stay in this viewing wall, guarding "Weizhu Yin" and the letter in the secret compartment, waiting for the day when he could really get close to her.

In the evening, she folded the complete score of "Weizhu Yin" and put it into the secret compartment of the piano. She also wrote "Weizhu Yin is finished, waiting for you to listen" on a bamboo slip and hid it under the bluestone slab on the wall.

The evening breeze swept through the bamboo forest, carrying the moisture of the Wei River. Lin Jiaojiao looked in the direction of the villa, her heart full of anticipation. She seemed to be able to see Ling's face when he received the bamboo slips, and could hear him whispering in the villa at the end of the month, "I heard it, it sounds very nice."

Far away in the Eastern Palace, Ling, taking a break from reviewing memorials, stroked the bamboo slip in his hand. On it, the words "'Weizhu Yin' has been completed" were written in delicate yet powerful strokes. He looked up in the direction of Taizhen Temple, a faint energy gathering at his fingertips, and silently said to himself, "Jiaojiao, wait a little longer. I'll be able to hear your zither music by the end of the month."