Chapter 37
The night was very quiet. Murong Qiufeng listened to the rustling sounds outside and sighed deeply.
Since that day, it had already been three days. During these days, he had been staying in Prince Ye’s courtyard without stepping out even once. Although Shangguan Ye had conveyed through Steward Yang that he could move around freely, how could he actually feel free?
Shangguan Ye had also been absent these past two days, which made Murong Qiufeng feel a mix of relief and disappointment. He missed their previous joyful conversations and felt a sense of loneliness, as if he were to be confined forever in this small courtyard.
Sighing deeply again, he poured his melancholy into music. Fortunately, Prince Ye had kindly arranged a qin for him to relieve his boredom.
The clear sound of the qin, filled with unresolved sorrow, made those who listened feel a pang of sadness.
Shangguan Ye had actually been returning every night. He would come back late at night when Murong Qiufeng was asleep, hold the acupressure-point-bound Murong Qiufeng to sleep, and then leave quietly early in the morning.
It wasn’t that he was afraid to see him, but rather he wanted to give Murong Qiufeng some time to adjust and calm his emotions. He wanted Murong Qiufeng for who he was, not a captive turned obedient subordinate. Now that he had succeeded in bringing him into his life, the next step was to guide him back to being himself, to regain his confidence.
Hearing the melancholy qin music, he sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, Feng. This was the only way to keep you by my side. But from now on, I will treat you well and make you happy.”
“Bring me my flute,” he said calmly.
In a flash, a shadow appeared and handed him a black jade flute.
Shangguan Ye took the flute, waved the shadow away, and then began to play along with the qin music.
The deep and resonant sound of the flute, like Shangguan Ye’s voice, merged with the qin.
Murong Qiufeng was playing to ease his frustration, but the more he played, the more agitated he felt. Just as he was about to stop, the sudden appearance of the flute sound entangling with his qin music made his eyes light up.
From the initial harmony, he could tell that the person playing the flute was skilled in music. The mournful flute seemed to match his sorrow but, upon closer listening, it felt as if it was soothing him, causing the emotions in his music to shift and become more cheerful.
The flute is often associated with melancholic tunes, yet it was used so masterfully here, indicating the player’s high level of skill.
Murong Qiufeng’s eyes shone with excitement, but as the piece neared its end, he felt a sense of loss. He leaped out, following the lingering sound to find its source.
It wasn’t difficult to locate the person as there was no attempt to hide.
Shangguan Ye gently stroked the black jade flute, feeling quite pleased. He smiled, “Thanks, old friend.”
Sensing something, he looked up, seeing Murong Qiufeng flying towards him like a white crane. His eyes were full of joy, knowing how to reach him through music.
Despite not having played for years, the effect was evidently good.
“It’s you… my lord.” Murong Qiufeng landed on the rooftop, looking at the person sitting there. His initial excitement turned to surprise, then became reserved. He stood straight, head bowed, and greeted him.
Shangguan Ye tapped his shoulder lightly with the flute, turned, and smiled, “Why aren’t you resting at this late hour? Playing the qin to express your feelings, are you indirectly complaining to me?”
“Qiufeng wouldn’t dare.” Murong Qiufeng hadn’t expected the flute player to be Shangguan Ye. He felt both joy and disappointment—joy at the unexpected harmony, but disappointment knowing it meant no tea and music discussions.
Shangguan Ye waved his hand, “Come sit. Since you can’t sleep, join me in moon-gazing. No need to be so formal.”
Murong Qiufeng stiffened, pursed his lips, wanting to refuse but remembering Shangguan Ye’s sternness from the previous night. Resigned, he walked over and sat down on the rooftop, his eyes drawn to the black jade flute, wanting to ask but hesitating.
Though Shangguan Ye gazed at the moon, he kept an eye on Murong Qiufeng. He knew what was on his mind and smiled inwardly but deliberately remained silent. Seeing Murong Qiufeng’s reserved demeanor made him want to tease him, stripping away that aloofness and coldness.
But Murong Qiufeng was patient. Shangguan Ye didn’t speak, so he stayed silent too. The two sat on the rooftop for an hour, each lost in their thoughts until the distant sound of a bell rang, and Shangguan Ye finally spoke.
“It’s late. Rest now. Tomorrow you’ll need your energy; don’t let anything go wrong.”
Shangguan Ye’s voice, low and gentle, brought Murong Qiufeng back to earlier times. He was momentarily stunned, then realized the meaning behind his words, feeling anxious, “Tomorrow…?” Was there an important task ahead? Or did his duties begin so soon?
“Forgot? Tomorrow is the third day, the day to visit your parents. Tomorrow evening, we’ll also attend a family banquet at the palace. Rest well; I don’t want anyone to see a weary consort.” Shangguan Ye stood up, patted Murong Qiufeng’s shoulder, and leaped away.
Leaving Murong Qiufeng stiff and almost petrified on the rooftop. Return visit?
