Chapter Fifty-Six: The Sound of the Xiao (Part Two)

Lu Yun was quick-witted, and at this moment he realized what was going on. He immediately hurried over to the young man and said, "Brother Qian, my sister is right. You don't know, five years ago, the person who was recommended as Filial and Incorrupt in Guihua City didn't do as much as you did—he merely gave the family land to his elder brother and sister-in-law. But guess what happened later? He was recruited by the court, and last year, he returned home in glory. It was magnificent, with people and carriages everywhere. That nobleman went back to his hometown, saying he was grateful to the villagers for their care over the years, and sent out fifty carts of gifts. Fifty carts, can you imagine?"

This child, Lu Yun, was quite skilled at spinning tales. Not only was he lively and spirited, his face was alight with excitement.

In the marketplace, rarely did one see sons or daughters from wealthy families; most were common folk. Their conversations usually revolved around family affairs, never stories of the high and mighty. Now, everyone crowded around, listening with relish, thinking they'd have something to boast about when they returned to their villages.

Lu Yun continued, raising his voice, "Later, everyone in his village received generous gifts, except his sister-in-law—she got nothing. Can you guess how she felt? She was unwilling, everyone said her family produced a great man, her children clamored for presents, and she dreamed of enjoying life in Luoyang. So she ran to the nobleman, knelt before him, and pleaded with tears. Brother Qian, can you guess what the nobleman did?"

"What did he do?"

The question didn’t come from the young man surnamed Qian, but from an eager villager listening to the story.

Seeing his audience, Lu Yun’s handsome face flushed with excitement. He declared loudly, "That nobleman had the villagers bring him a bowl, filled it with water, and then poured it onto the ground. He said to his sister-in-law, 'If you can gather this water back into the bowl exactly as it was, I’ll forgive you and take your family to Luoyang to share in the fortune.'"

At this point in the story, the crowd burst into uproar. "How could you gather the water back?" "Exactly, that's impossible!"

Amidst the murmurs, Lu Yun nodded, "Right, it's impossible! So the nobleman only took a few neighbors who had helped him, and left his brother and sister-in-law to remain poor in the countryside. Soon after the nobleman departed, his brother and sister-in-law fell ill, and their children were neglected. It’s said even the daughter, whose marriage was arranged, was rejected."

When the story ended, a hush swept over, followed by a renewed buzz of voices. The crowd sighed over the brother and sister-in-law who suffered retribution, and occasionally cast furtive glances at the stout woman.

Meeting their gaze, recalling Lu Yun's tale, the stout woman grew nervous. In recent years, the new emperor had ruled with filial piety and virtue, and stories of people who generously ceded property to their kin and were then recommended for office were common. But she had never imagined such a fate might befall her own family one day.

The stout woman's face alternated between pale and green as she looked at her brother-in-law, her gaze growing increasingly anxious and ingratiating. Lu Ying smiled, took her brother’s hand, and walked away.

Lu Yun said farewell to the young man surnamed Qian, then followed Lu Ying, pressing through the crowd. Soon, the siblings had left the marketplace behind.

Once clear of the crowd, Lu Yun shook his head, looking very pleased with himself. "Sister, was my story good?"

Lu Ying nodded, ruffling his hair with a laugh. "You told it well." As her brother grumbled, she smiled again, "Ah Yun is clever—he knows that a story needs three parts truth to seven parts fiction for people to believe it."

Proud of his sister’s praise, Lu Yun raised his head high, almost skipping as he walked.

But after such a delay, night had already fallen by the time they returned home. Lu Ying hurried to light the fire and cook, and by the time the two finished their meal, the full moon of the sixteenth shone brightly inside and out.

At that moment, flute music rose from the neighboring house.

Lu Ying stepped into the courtyard, listening to the flute, reflecting on the day's events. Just then, the music grew softer, gradually dissolving into the moonlight.

Unconsciously, Lu Ying found herself standing at the same spot by the wall as she had the night before.

As her back touched the wall, Lu Ying suddenly snapped to attention. She turned, her gaze icy, staring at the thick wall, thinking: All the sufferings of this world arise from our vain desires. The distance between his family and mine is immeasurable—there is no way we could ever become husband and wife. Knowing it’s hopeless, why let myself sink further?

With this thought, Lu Ying slowly stepped back.

As if their hearts were linked, almost as soon as she moved, a clear, joyful voice called out from the other side, "Ah Ying..."

He called once, then again, "Ah Ying...are you there? Ah Ying." Lu Ying stopped, turned to look at the thick mud wall, and after a long pause said, "Though the moon is lovely, the spring wind forbids it."

Just eight words, only eight. To make sure he heard clearly, Lu Ying spoke slowly, enunciating each one.

Speaking those words was easy, yet for some reason, as she said them, an indescribable sense of loss and longing surged in Lu Ying’s heart. Perhaps it had nothing to do with love, perhaps it was merely an elusive sentiment of youth.

Lu Ying had always acted decisively; after uttering those eight words, she turned and walked away.

When she reached the center of the courtyard, she heard a soft voice behind her, "Ah Ying!"

Lu Ying turned around.

She met the gaze of the handsome young man perched atop the wall, staring at her with longing. In the instant their eyes met, she saw clearly: in those mysterious, layered, ink-brush eyes, shimmering with beauty, tears were glimmering!

He was about to cry!

This thought drained Lu Ying of all resolve, making it impossible for her to leave for her room.

The young man watched her for a moment, lowered his gaze, nimbly seated himself on the wall, then put the flute to his lips and played, a mournful and pleading melody drifting through the air.

The sound of the flute swirled like a dream, laden with indescribable fear and supplication, winding again and again, entangling her heart. As Lu Ying couldn’t help but pause and look back, the young man fluttered his long lashes, his eyes shining bright, never once looking away.

At that moment, all traces of sorrow vanished from him. Even Lu Ying, who always prided herself on her sensitivity, thought inwardly: So I was mistaken, after all.