Chapter 72
It was no small feat for Shangguan Ye to finally send Yun Feiyang away. Feeling a rare sense of relief, his mood lightened considerably. Seizing the excuse of having four days left of his leave, he decided to take Murong Qiufeng on a proper tour of Lu City.
Meanwhile, Zhao Xiru found herself cleverly detained within the palace by Shangguan Ye’s machinations. For once, it was truly a world meant for just two.
“Did you hear about the duel on the stage this afternoon?”
“Of course! It’s the talk of the town. I bet Miss Song fell for that man in white at first sight. But that man—so arrogant! To ignore such a beauty as Miss Song? Unbelievable.”
“You’re not wrong. I heard Miss Song has been lovesick over him these past two days, unable to eat or sleep. Those wealthy young heirs in Lu City keep flocking to her, trying to win her favor, only to be rejected each time. She’s too refined for the likes of them. Anyone else would’ve been kidnapped into a mansion as a concubine by now.”
“Exactly! But I heard those same heirs are now helping her look for the man in white—just to see her smile.”
“Well, it’s no surprise. Miss Song truly is stunning. They say she’s even more beautiful than the Princess Consort. Not that I’ve seen the Consort myself, but Miss Song? Calling her a national treasure wouldn’t be an exaggeration.”
“Miss Song? Could they mean Song Ligge?” Murong Qiufeng asked, holding a teacup and listening curiously to the gossip circulating in the teahouse.
The busybody at the next table leaned over and chimed in, “Yes, that’s her! The famed First Qin Lady, Miss Song Ligge. She’s utterly infatuated! All because of a duet she played with that man in white. Now she’s fixated on finding him, even staging a music duel just to lure him out.”
“Man in white?” Murong Qiufeng raised an eyebrow and turned to Shangguan Ye, who had been silently sipping his tea. His gaze questioned, “Could it be Senior Brother?”
Shangguan Ye’s eyebrow arched back, “Possibly.”
Murong Qiufeng nodded with a thoughtful hum, “Oh. How about we go take a look?”
“Up to you,” Shangguan Ye replied nonchalantly, though his mind was already strategizing. Over the past few days, he’d had people investigate this woman. To his surprise, her background was surprisingly simple: a fallen aristocrat’s daughter, orphaned and raised in another family’s household. Yet her exceptional talent in qin was undeniable. She was ostensibly in Lu City only to attend the Plum Blossom Festival.
However, the simpler the surface, the more suspicious it seemed. How could a penniless noblewoman acquire such formidable skills? Someone who should have grown up confined to her boudoir, practicing the qin, now roamed freely among men with unveiled confidence.
Her dealings were smooth, almost as if she was accustomed to handling all kinds of people. Shangguan Ye had avoided her during his outings with Murong Qiufeng, not out of fear, but to keep unnecessary distractions at bay. Since fate seemed to be drawing them together now, he figured it was time to see what she was up to.
If she had her sights set on Yun Feiyang, all the better. Let her make his life difficult instead of meddling in his.
The music duel was set at Lu City’s most bustling establishment, the Mingyue Pavilion.
When Murong Qiufeng and Shangguan Ye arrived, the place was packed to capacity, with crowds spilling outside.
Murong Qiufeng frowned. Such a noisy atmosphere was hardly suitable for the refinement of a qin performance. To him, music was no sideshow for common entertainment but an art deserving reverence.
Inside a private room, a maid fretted, “Miss, are you sure about this? It could damage your reputation. What if the gentleman doesn’t show? Won’t it make you look bad?”
“Hah, what reputation do I even have left?” Song Ligge sighed as she adjusted her qin. “As for that gentleman, I do owe him an apology for using his name like this. If I ever meet him again, I’ll be sure to make amends.”
“Miss, I’ve been asking around. They say this Murong Qiufeng is quite low-profile. He only recently gained some attention through his sister’s marriage into the prince’s household. If he doesn’t appear—”
“If he’s truly a qin enthusiast, he’ll come,” Song Ligge interrupted with a faint smile.
“But what about the Fengyi Qin? Without it—”
“You silly girl. As long as I don’t lose, no one will question whether I have it or not,” Song Ligge replied knowingly.
“You’re right!”
“Enough chatter. Go check if he’s here yet.”
“Yes, Miss!” The two maids scurried off, leaving Song Ligge to concentrate.
As the maids left, a red-clad figure entered.
“Brother Yue!” Song Ligge’s eyes lit up as she stood.
“Here to make sure you don’t get hurt, you stubborn girl,” Yue Le said, tapping her nose with mock exasperation.
Song Ligge flushed, lowering her head shyly. “I won’t,” she murmured.
“Not smitten with that man in white, are you?” Yue Le teased.
“No! Absolutely not!” Song Ligge blurted, grabbing his sleeve nervously. “It was just a chance meeting. Please don’t misunderstand!”
Yue Le chuckled, his hand brushing over her hair. “I was joking. Look at you, all flustered.”
Settling by the qin, he began to play. Song Ligge’s gaze softened as she watched him, thinking, No one plays like Brother Yue.
But beneath his music, she sensed something—an unspoken frustration and unease.
Was he still troubled by Murong Qiufeng? That thought reignited her own anger. Murong Qiufeng, you’ll regret ever crossing Brother Yue.
Indeed, Yue Le’s foul mood stemmed from recent days spent shadowing Murong Qiufeng and the prince. Their growing closeness stoked his jealousy to unbearable levels. What he saw wasn’t fleeting novelty—it was genuine affection. And it drove him mad.
