WJ Chapter 16

Making Plans (5)

Yun Changliu naturally had no idea that in just the brief time he had kept Guan Wujue to dine in the hall, his two young maidservants had been thoroughly interrogated by the Protector. By the time he returned to the Medicine Gate, Ah Ku’s treatment had already ended, though the man had not yet awakened and was sleeping on the bed in the inner chamber.

Old Divine Physician Guan sat carelessly in a chair with his feet propped up, squinting his aged eyes as he trimmed the candle wick. Only when he saw the Sect Leader enter did he restrain himself somewhat, chuckling as he put his feet down.

Yun Changliu was used to such behavior. He walked closer and looked at Ah Ku’s frowning face illuminated by the candlelight, asking, “How is he?”

Guan Muyan stretched lazily and hummed as he stood up. “Can’t rush it, can’t rush it now… just let him recuperate slowly…”

Yun Changliu nodded and gave a few more instructions, mainly asking the Elder to treat him wholeheartedly and not to spare any good medicinal ingredients. After Guan Muyan agreed, he suddenly remembered to ask, “By the way, Sect Leader, that packet of medicine I prepared for you—did you really make my boy drink it?”

Yun Changliu said, “Naturally.”

Guan Muyan scratched his head. “That boy has never been so obedient in front of me. If he doesn’t want to drink medicine, he won’t drink it even if it kills him.”

Yun Changliu revealed a very faint smile, his tone rarely carrying a hint of pleasure and even what seemed like pride. “This lord commanded him to drink it—how would he dare not drink?”

Wen Feng, who was following behind carrying Yun Changliu’s qin, only now understood what had happened. It turned out that after the Sect Leader had brought the Protector back to Yangxin Hall, he had made a special trip back to the Medicine Gate to fetch medicine. No wonder he couldn’t find anyone anywhere—they must have just missed each other.

The attendant hadn’t had time to sigh over this when the conversation turned back to Ah Ku. Yun Changliu asked, “Will he sleep much longer?”

Guan Muyan said, “The Drunken Immortal’s Village medicine lasts five hours. Since his body is weak, it will be a bit longer than for ordinary people. But by my calculation, it should be soon.”

Wen Feng stepped forward and said to Yun Changliu, “Why doesn’t the Sect Leader go to Yanyun Palace first? Wen Feng will keep watch here and send him back once he wakes?”

Yun Changliu shook his head calmly. “This lord promised to accompany him for the day but broke that promise. How can this lord leave first now?”

So the Sect Leader and his attendant waited there. Before long, Guan Muyan took his leave first, going back to tinker with his medicines. Yun Changliu sat down in the outer room, took his qin from Wen Feng’s hands, and began tuning the strings while waiting.

His slender, jade-like fingers fell upon the strings. Yun Changliu plucked a few notes lightly, feeling the qin’s resonant vibrations as he adjusted the tuning pegs.

Yun Changliu had studied the qin since childhood, and his mastery of music was no less than his martial arts. After a moment, the tuning was complete. He casually strummed the strings a few times, and heavenly, crystalline qin notes poured forth from beneath his ten fingers.

The piece he played was tranquil without being melancholy. Playing it on such an evening with the new moon rising outside the window and candles flickering before him created an especially excellent atmosphere. Outside the Medicine Gate, the Winter Listeners chirped delicately, harmonizing with the qin music like an ink-wash painting slowly unfurling—within it, deep forests beneath sparse stars, an ancient pool reflecting the moon, a winding cold stream flowing through these mountains far from the worldly dust, making one’s heart soar with contentment.

Suddenly, the qin music halted abruptly.

The stream dried up instantly; the mountain forest, stars, and moon all scattered into smoke.

Yun Changliu had pressed the strings to stop the sound. It turned out Ah Ku had awakened at some point and was standing at the inner doorway in his green robes. He seemed completely immersed in the piece, and only when the music suddenly stopped did he look up timidly and say, “Sect Leader… Ah Ku has been rude.”

Yun Changliu raised his hand to stop Ah Ku from bowing. “No harm done. Come here.”

Ah Ku smiled and walked over carefully, kneeling beside Yun Changliu. In a soft, gentle voice, he said, “It has been so long since Ah Ku heard the Sect Leader play the qin… When I was small… Ah Ku also studied music together with the Sect Leader.” He looked at the qin before the Sect Leader, his eyes flashing with longing.

“Do you want to play very much?” Seeing him like this, Yun Changliu handed him the qin he had been holding. “This qin is named ‘Qing Ku’—it suits your name quite well. You should try it.”

(TL: 情 (qíng): emotion, love, affection, feeling; 苦 (kǔ): bitterness, suffering, pain)

A flash of delighted surprise passed through Ah Ku’s eyes, but it immediately dimmed. He touched his right wrist and said somewhat embarrassedly, “…Ah Ku hasn’t touched a qin in many years, and having ruined my right hand, I fear I would pollute the Sect Leader’s ears. I absolutely dare not play… If the Sect Leader is merciful, may this slave just touch the qin?”

“You should call yourself ‘I’—how have you forgotten again?” Yun Changliu placed the qin on the table for him and made room for Ah Ku. “Playing a few notes is fine, just don’t tire yourself and injure your hand.”

Wen Feng said softly, “Sect Leader, the Old Sect Leader is still waiting for you…”

Yun Changliu glanced at his attendant and slightly emphasized his tone. “It’s still early.”

That Wen Feng disliked Ah Ku was not lost on him. But since Wen Feng had followed him since childhood and was like a half-brother, Yun Changliu didn’t want to openly contradict him and embarrass him. He could only use subtle attitudes as a small warning. With Wen Feng’s perceptive nature, he would surely understand.

Sure enough, the white-robed attendant lowered his head slightly. “Wen Feng has spoken out of turn.”

Yun Changliu looked toward Ah Ku, who was slowly caressing his Qing Ku qin, his movements almost reverent.

This Qing Ku qin was three feet six inches long, made from the finest paulownia wood, wide at the front and slightly narrower at the tail. Its sound was like striking jade or shattering ice—extremely clear, cold, and transparent, quite in harmony with Yun Changliu’s temperament and disposition. Ah Ku’s fingers stroked from the tail to the head of the qin, finally resting lightly on the strings. After much deliberation, he plucked the strings to begin.

Ah Ku’s right hand was weak, so when the qin notes sounded, they lacked some purity and roundness, but the melody itself was complete and skillful.

After just a few notes, Yun Changliu recognized it. He was slightly stunned, and after a long pause said, “…It’s Mother’s piece, ‘Answering the Lord’s Grace.'”

Ah Ku had actually only played one small passage, but his face already showed immense happiness and satisfaction. He habitually lowered his head and, smiling, returned the qin with both hands. “Thank you, Sect Leader. Ah Ku is foolish—now I only remember this one piece.”

Yun Changliu’s expression softened somewhat. He said to Wen Feng, “Hereafter, procure a qin for him.”

Wen Feng acknowledged the order. Yun Changliu pointed with two fingers, and with a “chi” sound, he extinguished the candles in the room. He stood up holding the qin and said to Ah Ku, “This lord will escort you back.”

Ah Ku stood up and opened his mouth somewhat hesitantly. “Sect Leader… may Ah Ku beg a favor?”

When he said these words, he felt extremely nervous. In truth, Yun Changliu’s attitude that morning had already made Ah Ku vaguely sense something, but at this moment he steeled his heart and mustered the courage to implore:

“Ah Ku doesn’t want to return to the Warm Pavilion. I… I still want to… want to serve the Sect Leader. If the Sect Leader finds Ah Ku’s body unsuitable, may the Sect Leader allow me to enter Yangxin Hall as an ordinary servant…”

Wen Feng’s expression changed, and he nearly rebuked him for his audacity. In his heart, no matter what, Ah Ku was merely a medicine person of slave status—how dare he negotiate with the Sect Leader and make demands!

But remembering Yun Changliu’s deliberately emphasized words from earlier, the attendant still forcibly swallowed the words at his lips and looked to see the Sect Leader’s expression.

Yun Changliu’s expression showed little change—not even a hint of surprise. He only said calmly, “It’s already late today. We’ll discuss this tomorrow.”

The hope Ah Ku had raised fell into emptiness all at once.

“…Yes.”

He silently lowered his head. A trace of sorrow swept across his heart like a dense electric current, bringing a tremor throughout his entire body.

Yun Changliu’s tone was neither soft nor hard, yet Ah Ku hazily understood that hidden beneath the Sect Leader’s plain tone was a refusal that absolutely would not allow him to shake it in the slightest.

….

When Yun Changliu and Wen Feng emerged from Yanyun Palace, the moon was already high in the sky.

Yun Guyan’s Yanyun Palace very rarely kept people overnight. Even Yun Changliu, his dearly beloved son, had broken this rule only a few times. Only the Old Sect Leader’s attendant from days past, Wen Huan—that is, Wen Feng’s father—held one of the only two qualifications to lodge at Yanyun Palace.

And as Wen Feng grew accustomed to following the Sect Leader to Yanyun Palace, he would always have somewhat heretical thoughts emerge: With the Sect Leader dressed in white and carrying his qin, entering at dusk and leaving at night—he looked just like a courtesan who came when summoned and left when dismissed…

He hastily shook off this terrible thought and followed Yun Changliu for a few steps before asking, “What does the Sect Leader intend to do with this Young Master Ah Ku in the future? Will you really accept him into…”

“Wen Feng.” Yun Changliu interrupted the white-robed attendant’s words. “Mind your words.”

The Sect Leader gazed ahead while his hand slowly slid down to rest on the half jade pendant tied at his waist.

The moonlight adorned the phoenix wings on the jade pendant with a gentle glow, like the soft shadow that Jiangnan qin maiden had cast upon the mortal world decades ago.

“This lord never met Mother,” Yun Changliu glanced back—the eternally lonely and dark Yanyun Palace had already been left far behind him. “…But I often feel that Mother is right beside me. She remains in the qin music she left behind and in Father’s eyes.”

Since childhood, Yun Changliu had grown up watching Yun Guyan’s weathered and sorrowful eyes. He could always find traces of his mother, whom he had never met, in his father’s gaze—her voice and smile.

Yun Changliu gripped the jade pendant tightly in his palm and said calmly, “Should this lord marry in this life, this lord need only have one kindred spirit by my side—that will be enough. I will absolutely never take concubines or collect favorites.”

“If this lord were to accept Ah Ku, the promise would certainly be for one lifetime, one world, one pair of people. This vow is too heavy. At present, this lord still cannot remember past events and cannot make this promise.”

Wen Feng said, “The Sect Leader toward Ah Ku has only a desire to repay kindness and a feeling of pity, but no heart of romantic love.”

Yun Changliu hesitated and shook his head. “…this lord once did have feelings for Ah Ku. To say otherwise would truly be unfair to him.”

A warm, gentle smile appeared on the white-robed attendant’s face, his tone firm. “To Wen Feng, being unfair to outsiders is always better than making the Sect Leader suffer grievances.”

“…You are always so partial to your own people.”

Having said this much, they could already faintly see the lights of Yangxin Hall ahead.

The Zhuhuo Guards standing watch before the hall all bowed in unison when they saw the Sect Leader. Yun Changliu waved his hand to indicate they needn’t bow and entered with Wen Feng.

Naturally, there was no one left in the hall. Yun Changliu still unconsciously glanced toward the bed. Wen Feng had just finished carefully wiping down the Qing Ku qin for the Sect Leader when he turned back to see Yun Changliu lost in thought.

The attendant advised helplessly, “Forgive Wen Feng’s bluntness. The dead cannot return to life. Does the Sect Leader truly intend to remain at odds with the Protector like this for the sake of Young Master Danjing, who never regarded you as his elder brother?”

Yun Changliu gazed at the empty Yangxin Hall in silent contemplation.

Only his heart suddenly ached bitterly.

He took the qin from Wen Feng’s hands and laid it across his lap.

The strings moved with two or three sounds.

Before the melody formed, his emotions were already in turmoil.