Chapter 103: The Night Zither Talks about Old Dreams, and the String Music Enters the Dream and Recalls the Past
The autumn moonlight streamed through the window lattice, casting a silvery frost on the blue brick floor of the west wing of the Fang Mansion. The night watch ticked, and it was past midnight, but Ziwei was still asleep. Her fingertips moved unconsciously on her knees, as if plucking the strings of a zither. The jade pendant with the Chinese character "Wei" that Xiaoyanzi had brought back that day lay beside her pillow, its warm jade light reflecting on her slightly furrowed brow.
With a creak, the door slid open, and Xiaoyanzi entered, carrying a bowl of hot milk. She had just finished sword practice, and a light sweat still clung to her temples. She hadn't changed out of her lilac-colored training clothes, and the cuffs were stained with grass debris. Seeing that Ziwei's eyelashes were trembling slightly despite her closed eyes, he tiptoed over to the bedside and placed the milk on the small bedside table.
Beneath the window, spread out was the zither sheet music. It was Ziwei's imitation of "Wild Geese Falling on the Plain Sands," but the strings still lingered with the lingering sound, evidently from her previous performance that night. Little Swallow's fingertips gently touched the strings, producing a clear, melodious sound. Ziwei's eyelashes trembled even more, and she suddenly murmured in a dream, "Mother... listen..."
Xiaoyanzi sat down beside the bed, carefully observing Ziwei's face in the moonlight. Even in her sleep, her brows were furrowed, yet a faint smile played at the corners of her mouth, as if she had seen an old friend in a dream. Suddenly, Ziwei's fingertips gently traced the quilt, almost like playing a zither, and she began to hum a staccato tune: "In my dream, I heard you speak, about this endless... worry..."
The tune was light and soft, carrying the gentleness of the Jiangnan water towns, yet it made Xiaoyanzi's heart clench. She recognized it—in her past life, Ziwei had played it countless times by the stream in Youyou Valley. She said it was a ballad her mother had taught her. Every time she sang the line "Endless Worry," her voice would choke.
Xiaoyanzi raised her hand to tuck the corner of Ziwei's quilt. Her fingertips touched the slightly cool back of her hand, and she suddenly remembered Ziwei's dazed gaze at the jade pendant during the day. She stood up and walked over to the guzheng. This guzheng had been specially sent from Jiangnan by Fang's mother. The paulownia wood body shone with a warm luster, and the pegs were tied with crimson tassels that Ziwei had personally woven. On the guzheng lay a handwritten sheet of music, the handwriting beautiful, the unfinished piece "Dream Story."
"No wonder I always hear the sound of strings at night." Xiaoyanzi picked up the music score and whispered to herself, her fingertips running across the word "concern". She suddenly remembered Ziwei in her previous life holding a zither and singing this song under the moonlight in Shufangzhai. At that time, she did not understand the sorrow in the song, but just thought the tune was nice, and pestered Ziwei to teach her to sing it.
Just as he was lost in thought, Ziwei on the bed suddenly turned over and hummed another tune. This time the melody was brighter, but it carried a lingering melancholy: "The mountains are far away, the water is far away, the mountains and water are far away, the road is long..."
"The mountains are so far away..." Little Swallow hummed along softly, her throat tight. She remembered this song even more clearly—in her previous life, when they had just been reunited, Ziwei would always sing it while embroidering under the lamp. When she sang the three words "the road is so long," her voice would always be filled with uncertainty about the future. Later, on the run, when they rested in a dilapidated temple, it was this song that kept them company through the cold nights.
Moonlight drifted across the zither, illuminating the lingering rosin on the strings. Little Swallow suddenly sat down, her fingertips gently plucking the strings. A clear, "dong" sounded like water dripping on a jade plate. She played without following the score, relying solely on memory, playing the melody of "The Mountains Are Distant" intermittently. The trembling strings, mingled with the chirping of insects outside the window, were remarkably clear in the stillness of the night.
"The water is so far away..." Ziwei muttered in her sleep on the bed, her brows gradually relaxed, and the smile on her lips deepened, "Little Swallow... don't go..."
Xiaoyanzi's fingertips rested on the strings, and her heart suddenly felt warm, yet also a little sour. She turned to look at Ziwei, the moonlight falling on her peaceful face. Her long eyelashes, like two small fans, masked the sorrow in her eyes. In this life, Ziwei no longer had to wander the streets, nor wait patiently outside the palace gates, but the concerns and expectations etched in her bones still remained hidden in her dreams.
She put down the strings, stood up, walked to the bed, and gently covered Ziwei with her outer robe. The robe still carried the faint scent of soap and grass, having just been changed, and was warm with her body temperature. "Silly girl, I won't leave." She said softly, her fingertips brushing Ziwei's hair. "I will be with you for the rest of my life. No matter how long the road is, you don't have to walk alone."
As she was speaking, Ziwei suddenly laughed out loud in her dream. Her voice was light and cheerful, with a childlike joy: "The weather is so sunny today, and the scenery is beautiful everywhere..."
Xiaoyanzi was startled, her eyes instantly warmed. This song was so familiar—in a past life, when they had accompanied the Emperor on his southern tour, on a pleasure boat on West Lake, Ziwei played the qin while she, Yongqi, and Erkang flew kites at the bow, singing this very song. The sun was shining brightly, the lake emerald green, and everyone was smiling, believing the days would remain bright and beautiful forever.
"Yes, it's a beautiful view," Xiaoyanzi whispered, pressing her hand against the corner of her eye, afraid that tears would fall and wake Ziwei. She stared at the moonlight outside the window, her heart feeling like it was soaked in warm water, soft and warm. The regrets of a past life were like faded old paintings, while the warmth of this life was as vivid as the moonlight before her eyes. Even the melancholy in the piano music carried the sweetness of being cherished.
She walked back to the guzheng, gently closed the lid, folded the sheet of music from "Dream Story," and placed it in Ziwei's case. At the bottom of the case were several small portraits Ziwei had drawn: one of her practicing swordplay, one of Liu Qing and Liu Hong busy at the tavern, and another of two cuddling swallows with the word "sisters" written beneath their wings.
"From now on, I will only sing songs about beautiful scenery." Little Swallow whispered to the piano case, tapping lightly on the piano cover with her fingertips, as if making an appointment with the past.
The night watch ticked, and the moonlight gradually sank to the west. Little Swallow picked up the bowl of still-warm milk, blew on it, and sipped slowly. The aroma of milk, mixed with the faint fragrance of orchids, filled the air. She looked at Ziwei sleeping soundly in the bed, at the sweet smile on her lips, and suddenly felt that the moonlight in this life was brighter and warmer than any in her previous life. Those old dreams hidden in the string music would eventually be transformed into the sweetest moments of this life's companionship.
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