Chapter Seventy-Eight: The First Collaboration

Song Wan-ning sat in the chair, cradling the pipa in her arms. One hand pressed against the strings, while the fingers of her other hand gently curved to pluck them, producing the first note. As a cascade of notes followed, Song Wan-ning was once again enveloped in the sensation of being immersed within the music.

Although she was not particularly fond of the pipa, her teacher in her previous life often praised her extraordinary talent, especially with this instrument. Thus, Song Wan-ning continued to study the pipa.

Wen Jing-xing had heard only a short segment, yet admiration already shone in his eyes. Song Wan-ning truly played beautifully. Each note was struck precisely, fitting perfectly within the melody. Her skilled technique made it clear she had practiced for years.

When it came to Wen Jing-xing’s part, he raised the jade flute to his lips and blew softly. His gaze narrowed slightly, his slender fingers wrapped around the flute, releasing a melodious sound that lingered in the air. Song Wan-ning, observing his demeanor, was struck by his brilliance; Wen Jing-xing truly deserved to be called a musical prodigy. He loved music himself, making him a natural match for such artistry.

Reaching the duet section, Song Wan-ning clung to her pipa, pushing aside all other thoughts, and played with earnest dedication. When the piece concluded, Wen Jing-xing remained immersed in the melody. The opening was light and joyful, building to a crescendo, before plunging suddenly into a tense, oppressive passage, as if echoing the composer’s unwillingness to surrender. The middle section alternated between highs and lows, stirring excitement, and finally the melody rose once more, grand and majestic, ending with a drawn-out note that faded into silence.

To Wen Jing-xing, the music seemed to narrate a person’s life—peaceful happiness abruptly shattered by misfortune, yet the person does not yield, but struggles desperately, finally escaping the mire and turning the tide. From then on, their life sails smoothly until its final end.

Their first collaboration had produced such wonderful results that Song Wan-ning squinted her eyes in delight, “Wonderful! I think our chances of winning first place in the competition are very high!”

Wen Jing-xing, however, was curious. He had studied many pieces and could usually identify the title as soon as he heard them. Yet no matter how he racked his memory, he could not recall where Song Wan-ning’s piece came from.

After pondering in vain, he simply asked, “Wan-ning, why don’t I know the composer of this song?”

Song Wan-ning smiled mysteriously, choosing to keep him guessing, “What do you think?”

Wen Jing-xing had a bold suspicion, “Could it be you?”

“You’re even more imaginative than I am,” Song Wan-ning replied, not giving a direct answer. Even if she had written the piece, the original owner wouldn’t have. She didn’t want to reveal any clues that might allow others to realize she was different from the original.

The people in the variety show were all meeting Song Wan-ning for the first time, so it didn’t matter if she acted a little willful—she could do as she pleased. But if she claimed she could compose music, the news would surely cause a sensation online, and her stepmother would become suspicious. Some people enjoyed making bold statements without understanding the situation, only to alert the enemy and invite unnecessary trouble. Song Wan-ning disliked such behavior.

She hadn’t returned to the Song family yet and did not know their true nature. There were also two women there who knew the original owner well and watched her like hawks; Song Wan-ning did not wish to stand out.

“This composer is extraordinarily talented. When I listen to her music, I feel she herself should…”

“Should what?” Seeing Wen Jing-xing hesitate, Song Wan-ning pressed curiously.

“I’m talking about the composer, not you. Why are you so curious?” This time, Wen Jing-xing turned the tables, keeping her in suspense.

Song Wan-ning blinked her wide eyes at him, “Can’t I gossip about your opinions of others?”

She tried to act cute to get an answer, but Wen Jing-xing saw through her.

“No means no. You’re not her, so it doesn’t matter,” he replied.

“Come on, tell me!”

“Let’s practice the piece first. I’ll tell you when we finish.”

“You said it! If you don’t, you’re a puppy!”

“Alright.”

In the end, after Song Wan-ning accompanied Wen Jing-xing practicing for over an hour, Wen Jing-xing simply took his jade flute and left.

Song Wan-ning chased after him, “Wen Jing-xing, if you don’t tell me, you’re a dog!”

“Mm.”

Wen Jing-xing just turned to glance at her, then strode away with a smile.

Seeing she couldn’t catch up, Song Wan-ning gave up, annoyed. She had actually been played by Wen Jing-xing. The more she interacted with him, the less he matched the character and temperament described in the story!

Meanwhile, Wen Jing-xing walked away, reviewing Song Wan-ning’s handwritten score. The more he looked, the more unsettled he felt.

Over the past decade, even though he hadn’t met her, the Song family was unable to enter the elite circle of the capital, but Song Wan-ning’s mother, Xu Xiang-ling, came from one of the city’s most prominent families. The Song family often brought Song Wan-ning to take advantage of this connection, so people in the circle knew of her.

It was mainly because Song Zi-jiang failed to raise Xu’s only daughter well, married a new wife, and still shamelessly brought his daughter to benefit from the relationship. Many felt embarrassed for their family.

Xu Xiang-ling had once been a talented woman, revered as a cold goddess by many, only to be deceived by Song Zi-jiang. After having a daughter, she died of illness within a few years.

People lamented the beauty’s untimely death, remarking that the talented woman had given birth to a useless daughter—Song Wan-ning, who was said to be bad at everything. Most blamed Song Zi-jiang’s poor genes for Song Wan-ning’s shortcomings.

Wen Jing-xing had known Song Wan-ning since childhood. She had been bright and clever, not the worthless vase others claimed. Yet, constrained by the farewell letter she gave him as a child, he never bothered her again.

Years later, the two families suddenly decided to honor the childhood engagement, and Wen Jing-xing finally saw Song Wan-ning again. The girl who wrote such a resolute letter now treated him with indifference, not at all as if she disliked him.

All these strange changes had begun since Song Zi-jiang remarried. Just as he had tested Song Wan-ning about the manuscript—whether she had written it herself—she refused to tell him. Was she worried that if this got out, the Song family would find out? Her talent was so high and her pipa skills so superb, yet for years, everyone said she was the useless daughter of a talented woman.

Was she hiding her abilities out of fear that the Song family might discover them, and were those people actually unkind to Song Wan-ning?

The more Wen Jing-xing thought, the heavier his heart became.

He regretted letting that farewell letter keep him away from Song Wan-ning all these years, leaving her to be bullied without his knowledge. For her personality to change so much, she must have suffered greatly in the Song family.

(End of chapter)