The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

Tangxi Xue tidied her clothes and sat down.

The clear sunlight pierced through the icicles hanging from the eaves, shattering into hundreds of golden rays.

The water flowed gently over her dark blue hair and fair shoulders, finally settling on her slender fingers that hovered over the strings of the zither.

The fingertips were covered with a thin halo of snow and warm light, like the most touching texture of a plum blossom in its first bloom.

She lightly hooked her fingertips.

"Zheng—"

A clear and melodious zither note pierced the air, like an ice blade suddenly slicing through amber frozen for a thousand years.

Before the lingering melody had faded, the strings were already plunging like a celestial river, and a piece called "Yan Yu Yun Tai" unfolded from her fingers, spreading out in a grand manner and instantly engulfing the entire Mei Xue Wu.

That was by no means the usual melancholy and sentimental tunes found in the boudoirs.

What surges beneath the strings is the weight of time, the sediment and broken swords of the long river of history, and the vast and desolate atmosphere of the changing landscape and the rise and fall of dynasties that unfold between the fingers.

As the music rises and falls, one seems to see the smoke of ancient battlefields and the cold moon over old palaces, their light and shadows alternating, and the fate of a dynasty surging and undulating like the tides on the seven strings.

In its grandeur, it resembles a raging torrent crashing against the shore, shattering stars; in its subtlety, it's like a gentle breeze rustling through the yellowed pages of history.

"This music...!" Someone at the table suddenly stood up, unaware that their teacup had spilled. "It makes one feel as if they are on an ancient battlefield, witnessing the changing of the world!"

"Princess Mirror's musical skills...have reached a state of perfection!"

"This piece of music encompasses the universe and has the spirit to swallow mountains and rivers... What we have heard in the past is nothing more than the chirping of insects and the croaking of frogs."

A young scholar stared blankly at the terrace, muttering, "Don't ask me why I'm kneeling to listen to the zither... my knees just won't listen to me."

Just as the zither music reached the top of the cloud platform, a flute melody, like a silver arrow, pierced the sky, clear and melodious, reaching straight to the heavens.

"Look! That's the Holy Son of Mount Yuefan!"

"Clad in silver, soaring through the void; with a jade flute playing under the moon... truly a breathtaking guest among mortals!"

Everyone looked up and saw Yun Boyan standing in the wind, dressed in silver, on the highest glazed eaves.

The sunlight washed away the dust from his body, making him seem like a fairy from Mount Gusha who had been banished to the mortal world.

The glass flute in his hand rested against his lips, and the sounds flowing from the flute holes intertwined with the music of the zither.

Like the starlight skimming across the wings of a blue phoenix chasing the moon, or like the murmur of pine trees echoing the whispers of a deep ravine.

The sound of the flute carries the inexhaustible vitality of heaven and earth. As the melody rises and falls, the listener seems to see majestic mountains rising from the ground, mist and rain drifting over ancient cities, and life as fleeting as a mayfly at dawn and dusk...

Finally, I saw my own insignificant reflection, which spread out in a silent ripple in the deep pool of time.

Suddenly, a storm arose on Yuntai Mountain!

"Thump—!!!"

The deep, resonant drumbeats crashed down like thunder from the heavens, causing the plum branches throughout the garden to tremble and the accumulated snow to fall like celestial maidens scattering jade.

Everyone turned their heads in shock, only to see Feng Zhuo, dressed in red, standing on the west side of the terrace, holding an ebony drumstick.

The young general's red robe billowed like a burning battle flag, and when he raised his arm to strike the drum, his muscles and bones burst forth with the powerful force of battlefield conquest. Each strike was like a war god striking the heavens with a mallet.

He turned his head to look at the figure behind the zither table, his bright eyes blooming with a radiant smile in the snow.

Even though he had experienced bloodshed and was trapped in darkness, he would still be moved by her time and time again, just like the drum that beat for him.

That wasn't the sound of drums; it was the frantic pounding of his heart for her, a passionate confession finally breaking through the soil after years of pent-up emotions.

"Ah Xue, don't be afraid."

Even if the road ahead is full of storms and darkness, I will always be there for you to see when you turn around.

Thus, the zither becomes the veins of mountains and rivers, the xiao (vertical flute) becomes the breath of heaven and earth, and the drum becomes the heartbeat of time.

Thunder roars beyond the clouds, illuminating a thousand peaks at dusk; rain falls like stars across the river, punctuated by the strings of a zither.

The zither's sound sometimes cascades down like a waterfall, and sometimes swirls like morning mist over a spring mountain, bursting forth and flowing amidst the support of the drumbeats and the lingering notes of the xiao (vertical flute).

The three sounds intertwined, conjuring up a magnificent picture in everyone's minds:

The misty rain, like the flowing sleeves of an immortal, sweeps across the long scroll of history. Suddenly, the mighty river flows eastward, washing away heroes; suddenly, a lonely city stands in the setting sun, burying bones in the wild grass; suddenly, countless people till the fields and weave, their cooking smoke rising endlessly; suddenly, a single spark ignites a prairie fire, illuminating the long night…

"This piece is magnificent and grand, with sweeping and expansive movements... truly astonishing!"

Si Xingzhou involuntarily stood up, and upon listening closely, he felt a chill run down his spine.

Besides the word "peerless," he couldn't find a more fitting word to describe this extraordinary realm of music.

"A single note can dispel a thousand years of history, half entering the mist and half entering the soul."

A burning light flashed in his eyes, the sharp, determined look of an emperor upon seeing a rare treasure.

Si Xingxuan, standing beside him, let out a low groan, his pale fingertips unconsciously tracing the rim of the medicine cup:

"Keeping one's abilities hidden is a kind of wisdom, but she's hidden them too well; they're at the level of a strategic reserve."

Her tone held a hint of reproach, yet it couldn't conceal a gentle smile that even she herself didn't realize.

"He truly is a man who, when he does speak, astounds everyone."

Deep within the plum grove, Shen Xian stood beneath a tree, stunned, before finally letting out a soft, hoarse sigh:

"The greatest sound is silent... Only today do I understand what the greatest form is without shape."

He gazed at the solitary figure on the terrace, head bowed, playing the zither.

The wind swirled plum blossoms like snow, and the blue gauze spread out like sea mist. In the brilliant sunlight, she was like a statue sculpted from moonlight and snow, shining so brightly that one dared not look directly at her.

Is it the wind that's moving at this moment?

No, it's being moved.

Not just him.

Inside the Fuyun Pavilion, Hua Rongshi was already dumbfounded, and the jade bone fan in her hand, which followed the trend of number nine, fell to the ground with a "thud".

"Thump—"

Ultimately, all the sounds merged into a mighty torrent, surging towards the same destination:

When the smoke and fog dissipate, the world is clear and bright.

When the heavens and earth fall silent, the east is already white, heralding the dawn.

The last note gently dissipated from Tangxi Xue's fingertips, like snowflakes melting in the early morning light.

She slowly withdrew her hand, the strings still vibrating slightly, the lingering sound spreading out in circles in the still air like ripples.

The sound of the flute has faded, the drumbeats have ceased, leaving only a desolate garden, where snow falls silently.

a long time.

A bluebird, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, suddenly folded its wings and landed on the crimson-gold tassel at the end of her zither.

Tilting its head, it gently pecks at the icy jade beads, producing a soft, clear "ding" sound, as crisp as cracking ice.

All things seemed to slowly awaken from a grand dream spanning the ages.

The entire audience was captivated, and the onlookers were utterly mesmerized.

"My wife——!!!"

Hua Rongshi finally regained her voice and was so excited that she almost jumped over the railing.

"Peerless beauty! Absolutely brilliant talent! This music should only exist in heaven; how often can it be heard throughout the Nine Provinces?!"

Beside him, Bei Chenji lowered his eyes and played with the jade pendant in his palm. His expression seemed calm, but only his slightly white knuckles betrayed his true feelings.

No one knows that many years ago, on a snowy night, he was redeemed by that melody.

And the person playing the zither is none other than her, now sitting in the light.

"Brother, Princess Mirror...she's so amazing!"

Kong Sangling tugged at her brother's sleeve, her round eyes filled with awe and starlight.

During the banquet, envoys from various countries rose one after another, their exclamations of praise rising in waves:

"What His Highness Kongsang said earlier was true! Princess Chenyaojing is indeed a peerless beauty, unparalleled in the world!"

"The grandeur of a great nation is evident in this single instance. Admirable! Admirable!"

"Upon returning, I must inform my lord that the pinnacle of civilization in the Nine Provinces should be Chenyao—"

Kong Sangyu, who was called out, paused in his cup-holding hand, a helpless smile flashing across his blue eyes.

In all honesty, his previous praise of "peerless talent" was mostly just a sarcastic remark.

Who knew... she actually deserved it.

"Good! Good! Good!" Madam Feng said three times, her eyes filled with love and pride as she smiled. "Ah Xue has truly... never disappointed her aunt."

In stark contrast to the bustling atmosphere throughout the garden was the suddenly pale, sapphire blue figure of the Floating Fragrance Pavilion.

"How is this possible..." Shen Yan staggered half a step, and a tiny red dot appeared on the back of her left hand.

A sharp pain, like a poisonous vine, instantly shot through her limbs and bones. She clung to the pillar, drenched in cold sweat, but stared intently at the terrace.

This shouldn't be happening!

That good-for-nothing princess should have become a laughing stock the moment the piano music started!

"My goodness!" Shen Nian whispered in her second brother Shen Cuo's ear, "Second brother, did you see that? Princess Jing used to hide her talents so much so that she wouldn't steal the limelight from our eldest brother, the chief of Lintai... That sacrifice was enormous."

In the Shuying Pavilion, Yan Ci clapped his hands and sighed softly, "Your Majesty, the young prince's song... will probably be heard throughout the Nine Provinces tomorrow."

Tang Xi stood with her hands behind her back by the window, her dark gold dragon robe shimmering with a majestic luster in the light.

A hint of pride, unseen by anyone, curved his lips into a smile, and his voice was deep and resonant:

"My Zhizhi is meant to be this way—"

"Radiant as the morning sun, bright as the moon, possessing all the charm of the world."

In the center of the terrace, Tang Xixue gracefully rose from behind the zither table.

The veil fell with her movements, revealing a face of breathtaking beauty.

She stood in the brilliant sunlight, a faint smile on her lips, but her gaze, like a butterfly flitting among flowers and willows, quietly landed on the star-patterned robe in the Juyue Pavilion.

The fleeting moment when their eyes met across the distance.

Si Xingzhou paused slightly in the hand holding the cup.

He saw the snow and plum blossoms reflected in the girl's eyes, and deep within her smile seemed to lie a silent thread that only he could see.

She was looking at him.

Focused, with a certain light and cunning allure.

It was as if it were asking: Do you dare to come with me?

Si Xingzhou: Has she taken a liking to me?