Chapter 18: Dreams of the past, strings of new music
Summer nights in the south of the Yangtze River are always shrouded in a damp warmth. The window lattices in the west wing of the Fang Mansion were open, and moonlight streamed into the bedroom like water, casting a layer of silver frost on the blue brick floor. The cicadas outside the window gradually died down, leaving only the intermittent croaking of frogs in the lotus pond, mingling with the occasional tinkle of wind chimes on the eaves, weaving a gentle web.
Xiaoyanzi turned over, the quilt sliding down to her waist. She was wearing a soft, aquamarine silk nightgown with delicate lotus embroidery at the collar. Her jet-black hair spread across the pillow, and a thin layer of sweat formed on her forehead. Her brows furrowed slightly, as if preoccupied by something, and she murmured softly, "Ziwei...wait for me..."
The moonlight in my dream was just as bright, but instead of pouring down on Jiangnan's bedroom, it fell on the familiar carved window lattices of Shufangzhai. A rosewood zither table sat by the window, a guzheng resting on it, its pegs still bound with the red silk ribbons from last year. Ziwei, wearing a lilac-colored skirt, sat at the table, tuning her zither. Her fingertips slid across the strings, creating a clear, melodious sound. Hearing footsteps, she turned back, her brows curved into crescents. "Little Swallow, you're finally here! Can I teach you to play 'Pingsha Luoyan'?"
Xiaoyanzi ran over, her skirt sweeping across the mat on the ground, bringing with it a familiar scent of sandalwood. She squatted beside the zither table, looking at the strings of the guzheng. Suddenly, something occurred to her, and her eyes sparkled. "Ziwei, if you teach me how to play the guzheng, I'll play some guqin music for you, okay? I can play 'Bell and Chime Sounds' now. The abbot said I've made progress!"
Ziwei smiled and nodded, reaching out to tidy up her messy hair, her fingertips warm. "Okay, I haven't heard you play the guqin yet." She moved the guzheng aside to make room for her. "Where's your guqin? Did you bring it?"
"I brought it!" Xiaoyanzi was about to say she had left it under the porch, but suddenly she found her hands empty and the shadows under the porch became blurry. She looked around anxiously, but the door of Shufangzhai suddenly became very far away, and Ziwei's figure gradually faded. Only her voice still floated in the wind: "Xiaoyanzi, I'll wait for you..."
"Ziwei!" Xiaoyanzi sat up abruptly, her chest heaving violently. The sweat on her forehead trickled down her cheeks and onto the pillow. The moonlight outside the window was still bright, and the bedroom furnishings were clearly visible: the carved step-down bed, her painting of "Lotus" hanging on the wall, and a celadon vase on the table filled with fresh jasmine, its delicate fragrance delicate.
It turned out to be another dream.
She raised her hand to her chest, her heart pounding, her fingertips cold. Ziwei's smile in her dream was so vivid, she could even remember the warmth of her fingertips, but when she woke, there was only silence. She sniffed, suddenly realizing the corners of her eyes were wet. She quickly wiped them with the back of her hand, but the more she wiped, the more it fell, like beads from a broken string.
"Silly girl, are you dreaming?" Li's gentle voice came from outside the door. Then the door was gently pushed open. Li walked in with a cup of soothing soup and a thin cloak in her hand. "I heard you scream. Are you having a nightmare?"
Xiaoyanzi quickly lay down, pulled the quilt to her chin, and responded vaguely: "No...no, Mom, I just turned over and bumped into the headboard accidentally." She didn't dare to look into her mother's eyes, for fear of being seen to have cried.
Mrs. Li walked to the bedside and saw her daughter's red eyes in the moonlight. Her heart ached. She draped her cloak over her daughter's shoulders, scooped a spoonful of soothing soup and handed it to her mouth. Her voice was as soft as cotton: "You must be too tired from practicing the piano. You've been staying up late these past few days. Come, drink some soup to warm yourself up."
As the warm soup slid down her throat, carrying a faint scent of lilies, Xiaoyanzi's heart gradually calmed down. She looked at the silver hair on her mother's temples, which were particularly clear in the moonlight. Suddenly, she reached out and hugged Li's waist, burying her face in her arms. "Mother, I just dreamed of an older sister. She was so kind to me and taught me to play the piano..."
Li patted her back gently, just as she had when she was little, coaxing her to sleep. "This is a good sign. It means our Ci'er is popular. Even in her dreams, she's loved by her sister." She combed her daughter's messy hair with her fingertips. "Are you looking for a companion? In a few days, I'll take you to Madam Wang's residence. She has a daughter about your age with a good temper."
"No." Xiaoyanzi shook her head, her voice muffled. "I have my big brother, that's all, and I also have my parents." She paused, then suddenly looked up, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "Mom, do you think there's someone in this world you've never met, but yet feel incredibly close to? As if... as if you knew them in a previous life?"
Mrs. Li smiled and scratched her nose. "Silly, there's no such thing as a past life. But fate is unpredictable. We might meet someday." She placed the empty bowl on the table and tucked in her daughter's blanket. "Go to bed quickly. It's almost dawn. You have painting lessons with Mr. Zhou tomorrow."
After Li left, Little Swallow stared at the moonlight with her eyes wide open, unable to fall asleep again. She quietly rose, walked barefoot to the window, and opened it halfway. The summer night breeze, carrying the fragrance of the lotus pond, blew in, feeling cool on her face. The frogs continued to croak in the distance, but not as loudly as before.
She remembered Ziwei's words in her dream and suddenly walked to the desk, picking up the small guqin—a custom-made instrument her father had made for her. It was smaller than the average guqin, a better fit for her hands. She sat on the embroidered cushion by the window and gently plucked the strings with her fingertips. The clear sound spread through the silent night like drops of water on a jade plate.
"Ziwei, can I play 'The Sound of Bells and Chimes' for you?" she whispered softly into the moonlight, her fingertips trailing across the strings as the melody flowed slowly. It was a little awkward at first, but gradually it became smoother as she played. The sound carried the chimes of the Hanshan Temple, the moonlight of Jiangnan, and an indescribable longing.
She was so absorbed in playing that she didn't notice Xiao Jian standing in the corridor outside the window, his dark figure stretched out by the moonlight. He heard the melancholy in the piano music, and a gentle smile appeared in his eyes, but he didn't disturb her. He just stood there quietly until the music faded, then he tiptoed away.
As daylight dawned, Little Swallow finally grew sleepy and fell asleep on the zither table, a faint smile still on her lips. The zither's strings on the table were still trembling slightly, the lingering sound mixed with the fragrance of jasmine, drifting into the bedroom with the morning light, becoming the most gentle thought on this Jiangnan summer night.
During breakfast, Fang Zhihang noticed a faint dark shadow under his daughter's eyes and asked with concern, "Didn't you sleep well last night?"
Little Swallow sipped at the bowl of porridge and mumbled, "I had a long dream. I dreamed of many lotus flowers." She didn't say she dreamed of crape myrtle, for fear of worrying her parents. She just picked up a piece of lotus cake and put it in her mouth. The sweetness spread on the tip of her tongue, and her heart felt warmer.
Xiao Jian picked up a tea egg for her and whispered, "Don't practice Qinggong today. I'll accompany you to the back mountain to pick some mint in the afternoon. Come back and make tea with it to calm your mind."
Little Swallow looked up and saw the concern in her brother's eyes. She nodded vigorously, "Okay! We need to pick some wild roses too. Mother said we can make flower jam."
Sunlight streamed into the dining room through the window lattice, bringing the family's shadows close. Little Swallow, looking at her parents' smiling faces and her brother's gentle gaze, suddenly felt the melancholy of her dream fade. No matter how much we cherished our past lives, the warmth of this one is what we should cherish most. She took a bite of a tea egg and thought quietly: Ziwei, wait for me. We will definitely meet again in this life.
The wind passed through the courtyard, carrying the fragrance of lotus leaves and the lingering scent of ink on the piano table. Mixed with the morning light, it became the most peaceful smell in this summer in the south of the Yangtze River.
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