Qingyao gazed coldly at everything before her, a faint, inscrutable smile playing on her lips.
Yi Siyuan spoke with a smile, "My daughter is simple-minded. If she has offended in any way, please do not hold it against a child."
In her father's eyes, no matter how old, she was still a child. Although at Yi Shuang'er's age, many were already married, Yi Siyuan still used this excuse. However, Qingyao was too lazy to argue with him and said in a deep voice,
"How could we possibly hold anything against your esteemed daughter, Lord Yi? We shall take our leave for the separate courtyard."
"Very well, escort the guests over," Yi Siyuan, seeing the impatience on Qingyao's face, had no choice but to turn and command the maids beside him.
Truthfully, if it weren't for Wuqing's sake, he would not have kept them here. In fact, he had no idea what kind of formidable person Qingyao was, nor her background, which was why he had underestimated her.
Led by a young maid, Qingyao and her companions were shown to the separate courtyard within the Seventh Prince's estate.
The separate courtyard was vast, with several courtyards situated together, normally used for entertaining guests. However, the Seventh Prince had disappeared more than a year ago, so it had been unoccupied for a long time. Yet, it was kept spotlessly clean, with servants and maids fully equipped.
Qingyao and Wuqing each occupied a courtyard, living adjacent to each other. Stepping out, one could see the scene in the courtyard opposite. A lake separated them, with a flat bridge built over the center, leading to it in just a few steps.
As it was already late, they parted ways and retired to their respective rooms to rest.
Though not exceedingly luxurious, the rooms were exceptionally elegant. Besides the essential curtains and dressing cabinets, there were also zither stands and the Four Treasures of the Study.
Qingyao took down her Huangwei Qin and placed it on the zither stand. She looked up at the window, the moonlight thick and heavy, with no hint of sleepiness. She couldn't help but think of Wuqing.
Ever since they met, his gaze had often followed her, seemingly unwilling to leave her side. He was usually so quiet, as if no one else was present.
She knew he disliked speaking, and sometimes she didn't even know his true thoughts, because his beautiful eyes held no trace of desire.
As Qingyao was lost in thought, Mochou finished tidying the bed and came forward to speak respectfully, "Master, you should wash and sleep. It is already late."
Mochou's voice was cold, and her emotions were not entirely good. Qingyao knew her thoughts and said gently,
"Since you have been worried about him, and you have met him, why not go and show your concern? Why linger on this, it's not his fault regarding Yi Shuang'er."
Mochou hadn't expected her master to directly pinpoint her thoughts. Her face flushed, and she quickly declared, "It has nothing to do with me. His affairs are none of my concern from now on."
With that, she walked away petulantly. Qingyao was about to say something more when suddenly, melodious zither music drifted from outside the window.
It flowed like water through the night, seeping into one's heart.
It was Wuqing playing the zither. It seemed he, like her, couldn't sleep. The music was so joyful, yet it revealed he was in an exceptionally good mood.
A smile tugged at Qingyao's lips. Since she couldn't sleep, why not go and listen to him play? She turned and walked out. Mochou also heard the music and, seeing her master's actions, knew she was going to listen to Young Master Wuqing play. She followed her master.
Outside the door, a handsome figure stood quietly in the long corridor. It was Moyou. He had intended to come and see them but hesitated upon reaching the entrance. He hadn't expected them to come out.
Upon seeing Qingyao, he quickly bowed and called out, "Master."
"Yes, I'm going to listen to the zither. Mochou, stay and talk with Moyou." Her tone brooked no argument. Mochou wanted to refuse, but Moyou had already reached out and pulled her aside. All along the way, they could hear this flamboyant woman grumbling her protests.
"Let go of me, I told you to let go of me."
Moyou pulled her to the side of a rockery. Before she could utter another word, he suddenly leaned down and sealed her lips. Mochou was stunned, unable to make a sound.
What was this brat, this dead rascal, doing? It wasn't like she was an old cow trying to eat young grass; he was the one provoking her. At that moment, she didn't hold back and responded enthusiastically. Their noses bumped, or their teeth collided, and after much effort, a kiss was completed.
Mochou was gasping for breath, soft as a ball of cotton, and slumped in Moyou's arms, quietly listening to his heartbeat.
Suddenly, she felt a sense of security. Fortunately, he was alright. She had been terrified during this time.
Her mind had repeatedly conjured up situations he might have encountered, each one making her tremble with fear and worry. After so long, Mochou suddenly burst into tears.
Moyou immediately panicked. He had never comforted a girl before, so he was somewhat flustered, wiping Mochou's tears and coaxing her.
"Alright, don't cry, don't cry."
"No, I insist on crying." Mochou stopped crying. She wasn't a sentimental person, but the fear and anxiety of the past few days had caused her emotions to overflow for a moment, hence the tears.
The two finally revealed their identities and were whispering sweet nothings behind the rockery.
Qingyao, bathed in moonlight, made her way towards the place where the zither music was being played.
A gentle night breeze caressed her skin. Beside the flat bridge, the lake shimmered. The moonlight lay like a thin veil on the water's surface. The moon's reflection at the bottom of the lake was blindingly bright.
The soft moonlight enveloped the small pavilion. Silken curtains fluttered, and the zither music flowed from within. Qingyao walked towards it involuntarily.
Qingfeng stood outside the pavilion. Upon seeing her approach, he respectfully bowed, silently inviting her in.
Since the last incident, Qingfeng had been exceptionally cautious and respectful towards her, seemingly afraid of any negligence. This made Qingyao uneasy, as if he were still hiding something. However, since the master and servant duo did not mention it, she had no way of knowing.
Inside the pavilion, the wind blew in. His white hair, tied with a silver hairpin, flowed like clouds, framing his exquisite features. It didn't look unsightly at all; instead, it added a bewitching charm. His brows were like new moons, his eyes like clear mirrors, holding clear, lustrous waves. His lips were rosy and inviting.
At this moment, he was engrossed in his music. Hearing footsteps, he looked up and smiled. Under the moonlight, he seemed like an immortal on the Jade Terrace, quietly playing his zither, captivating everyone with his music, making them unable to extricate themselves.
The moon was bright, the person refined, the environment beautiful – a truly soul-stirring scene.
Qingyao slowly sat down opposite him, her eyes filled with concern. She quietly watched him, listening as the zither music flowed from his fingertips, rippling in the moonlight.
When the song ended, the lingering notes hung in the air. For a long time, she couldn't snap back, only emitting a soft sigh.
Wuqing looked up, his gaze filled with concern, "What is it? Qingyao, are you troubled?"
"Wuqing's zither playing is always so beautiful. I feel I am far behind you."
Qingyao's feigned demeanor immediately made Wuqing laugh. His face seemed to be veiled by a light gauze, his pupils hazy yet filled with deep affection. He reached out and took Qingyao's hand.