Two figures were hidden beneath the cloak of night.
Yun Xiao turned and walked step by step, following the secluded path. Along the way, she saw no one, appearing this honored guest preferred solitude, hence the scarce presence of eunuchs and palace maids.
The moonlight was thin and cool like water. Below the steps, fragrant grass grew lush, and cold dew, crystalline, hung upon the branches, trembling slightly, emitting a soft glow. Everything was veiled in a layer of silk, graceful and ethereal.
Passing through the secluded path and a grove of emerald bamboo, the scene suddenly brightened.
A clear lake lay, slumbering peacefully in the cold night. Around the lake stood round pillars, upon which hung eight-sided, exquisite glazed palace lanterns. Their light spilled onto the lake, creating a kaleidoscope of colors, shimmering and captivating.
Yun Xiao couldn't help but exclaim in admiration. This place was truly beautiful. No wonder the Emperor had settled the guest in the Qingfeng Pavilion; no one would dislike such a lovely residence.
Strolling amidst the hazy lamplight, a gentle breeze stirred, causing the clear lake to ripple. The water, reflecting the lamplight, resembled shimmering, golden fish scales, twinkling and flashing.
Yun Xiao chose a clean patch of grass and sat down, gazing wistfully at the center of the lake. If only she had some fine wine in hand, she truly wished to drown her sorrows.
As the moon shifted westward and the night deepened, the chill intensified. She couldn't help but shiver slightly, tucking her shoulders and rising to leave.
Suddenly, a melodious flute sound reached her ears. It began slowly and lingeringly, then abruptly shifted, as if a thousand armies were charging, great waves crashing, soaring and impassioned, escalating steadily.
It was none other than "Sai Jiuzhou" (塞九州).
She had heard her elder brother play this tune once at the Yun King's mansion. She recalled that the song depicted soldiers far beyond the frontier, never to return, yet their ambitions unfulfilled.
Thinking of their aged mother at home, their hearts bled like blood, transforming into wolves, fiercely slaying enemies, solely seeking fame and glory to return home.
However, on such a moonlit, enchanting night, playing such a tune was utterly unsuitable. At this moment, a piece like "Wind, Flowers, Snow, Moon Night" would be more fitting.
Who was it? Who possessed the skill to play the flute with such fluctuating tones and boundless heroism?
Yun Xiao walked forward, step by step, approaching the source of the flute music.
At a railing, a person leaned against it, dressed in grey with ink-black hair, legs crossed. Despite his leisurely demeanor, he played with the fervor of drinking blood, etched with a deep, poignant emotion.
As the melody ended, he turned abruptly, and their eyes met.
His features were handsome, not breathtakingly beautiful, but remarkably pleasant to behold. His dark, deep eyes held a clear, shimmering depth, as if they had perceived all the mysteries of the world. His lips were tightly pursed, neither smiling nor speaking, his expression unchanged from beginning to end.
After a single glance, he raised the flute to his lips again. His pink lips curved slightly, and a clear, distant voice emerged, piercing through mountains and rivers, heavy mists, winding through nine bends, its echo lingering.
It was not an ordinary sentimental tune, but another grand melody.
Yun Xiao sat by another railing, leaning against it, her eyes half-closed, savoring the stirring emotions within the music.
The palace lanterns cast a reddish glow upon her face. Her long eyelashes veiled her bright, intelligent eyes, and the corners of her lips curved into a captivating smile. Her small, lovely dimples seemed to hold a jar of fine wine, where the wine did not intoxicate, but the person was consumed by it.
The flute's melody continued to drift on the wind, while a slight ripple stirred in the depths of those profound eyes.
One played with absorbed passion, the other listened with rapt attention. The moonlight slanted west, and the night grew ever deeper.
Yun Xiao leaned against the railing, seemingly asleep. Her beautiful sleeping face made it difficult to cease playing the tune. The melody seemed to have become a lullaby, allowing one who had been restless in the palace to sleep so soundly.
The corner of Xi Men Yao's lips lifted slightly. Since his music seemed to serve a purpose, he would be a sleep-inducing messenger for a while.
His gaze involuntarily shifted to the person sleeping peacefully behind him. She was not the most beautiful, but she was undoubtedly the most captivating. To be able to sleep so soundly and obliviously in front of a stranger.
Was it trust in his character, or sheer exhaustion? Life in the palace, he surmised, was difficult for everyone, let alone her.
When she slept, she invited closeness, much like a cute, defenseless kitten.
In his experience, women were always vain and pretentious, some feigning fragility to the point of nausea. Yet, the woman he saw tonight was an unexpected surprise.
Could she be the fool everyone spoke of?
A playful smile touched his lips. He longed to reach out and touch that soft, lovely cheek, surely as soft as cotton, making one feel comfortable from the inside out when holding her.
As Xi Men Yao lost himself in thought, a chilling killing intent suddenly flashed through the air, thick and unyielding.
"Who's there?" His expression instantly darkened, revealing his killing intent, shedding the previous gentleness and fluidity. He retracted the flute, his voice, though laced with coldness, was deliberately lowered.
"Who's there? Come out."
As his words fell, more than a dozen figures leaped from the shadows, clad in black night-wear, their faces masked with black kerchiefs, revealing only eyes brimming with killing intent, glaring ferociously at the man by the lake embankment.
He stood with arrogant hands behind his back, lightly tapping the flawless jade flute twice. In the cold night, a hint of bloodlust was born. His protective aura rose; though there was no wind, his scholarly robe billowed automatically, a powerful surge of energy enveloping him.
The dozen black-clad figures saw how formidable his internal energy was, their killing intent intensifying. It seemed they had met their match tonight.
The leader of the black-clad figures waved his hand, and the dozen spread out, surrounding Xi Men Yao, yet hesitant to approach.
At this moment, Yun Xiao felt the malevolent energy beside her. Her pupils snapped open, and she sprang up, warily eyeing the dozen black-clad figures encircling her and the flutist.
These people were here to kill the flutist, the Emperor's honored guest.
Then who were they? Yun Xiao's eyes flickered, uncertain. Could it be people from the Yun King's mansion? She quickly dismissed the thought. Her father had no ambition to seize the throne, so why would Shangguan Yao invite this man into the palace? If not her father, then who?
Her eyes, black as grapes, darted around like a cunning, wild, thousand-year-old little demon.
"Who exactly are you people?"
Xi Men Yao scanned the young woman beside him and spoke unhurriedly.
Though his voice was casual and at ease, the dozen black-clad figures felt a constriction in their chests. Some with weaker internal energy even broke out in a fine sheen of cold sweat and took a step back.
They hadn't expected this person to transmit power through sound, his internal energy being so profound. Did they still have a chance of winning? Moreover, the woman beside him was unaffected, equally formidable.
Of course, these people had no idea that Yun Xiao possessed no internal energy, and therefore felt no power transmitted through sound, hence her composure.
Knowing they had encountered a formidable opponent, the dozen felt great fear. But their master's orders were absolute; they could not retreat, even unto death. Thus, the black-clad leader gritted his teeth and said in a low voice, "Xi Men Yao, you will die!"