The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

The music was neither a tune nor a melody; it was broken and disjointed, stumbling and faltering.

Li Jingniang was stunned.

What she heard was not technique, but a state of mind. In the intermittent music, there was struggle, confusion, seeking, and resentment. Like a person trekking on a mountain path, falling and getting up, falling again and getting up again, covered in mud, but always looking towards the summit.

When the song ended, Wang Zhonghua stood up and said self-deprecatingly, "Master Li, you flattered me."

Li Jingniang shook her head, her eyes slightly red.

"This piece you played, sir, moved me even more than the 'Partridge Sky' you just played." Her voice trembled slightly. "Because it is your heart's song—it is not yet a melody, but it already shows its structure; it is still raw, but it already shows its spirit."

She looked at Wang Zhonghua with a newfound light in her eyes—not romantic love, but a deeper emotion: a kindred spirit in skill, a soulmate in spirit.

"Young Master just said that he wanted to accomplish something so that future generations would remember that he was here," Li Jingniang said softly. "I dare to offer you a word of advice."

"Speaking."

Li Jingniang walked to the window, pushed it open, and the night wind rushed in, fluttering her clothes. Suddenly, she took out a small ceramic xun from her sleeve; the xun was mottled and clearly an old object.

"This was a gift from my teacher when I first started learning music." She placed the xun in her palm and gently stroked it. "My teacher said that the sound of the xun is rough and simple, like a person's first cry. It is not yet a tune, but that is the true tune."

Wang Zhonghua's gaze sharpened.

Li Jingniang handed him the xun (a type of ancient Chinese wind instrument), her eyes shining like stars: "Young master, the sound of your zither just now was just like the sound of this xun. Your technique is not yet proficient, but your heart has already arrived. Don't believe me? Try it."

Wang Zhonghua took the ocarina, its surface warm to the touch. He suddenly smiled—this girl had actually picked up his catchphrase.

"What a fine saying, 'The real tune is the one that doesn't play properly.'" He gripped the old xun tightly. "I will remember what Jingniang said today."

Seeing him lost in thought, Li Jingniang smiled slightly, closed the window, and walked back to the tea table.

"Please forgive my words, sir." She poured more tea, her tone returning to normal. "Working in a brothel, I've seen my share of hypocrisy and heard my share of sweet talk. It is my good fortune to have met someone like you, sir. If these words can be of even the slightest help to you, I will be completely satisfied."

She paused, then said softly, "Although I am trapped here, I have read a few books. I remember the Book of Rites says: 'Virtue is the beginning of human nature; music is the blossoming of virtue.' Although your zither music is rough, it contains the beginning of virtue and the blossoming of human nature. This is what Jingniang calls 'true music.'"

Wang Zhonghua gave her a deep look, then solemnly clasped his hands in a fist and said, "I will accept this xun. If I achieve something in the future, I will definitely come back to return a 'true tune' to Jingniang."

Li Jingniang smiled, a smile as beautiful as a fleeting moment of beauty.

"I hope you will remember this, young master." She picked up her teacup, offering tea instead of wine. "I offer this tea in respect, wishing you all your dreams come true and that you live a fulfilling life."

Wang Zhonghua picked up his teacup and drank it all in one gulp.

Liu Sanbian, who was watching this scene from the side, suddenly sighed and picked up the wine pot to take a big gulp.

"Enough, enough," he murmured. "I, Liu Sanbian, have spent half my life writing lyrics, and only today do I realize what a true soulmate is."

He looked at Li Jingniang, then at Wang Zhonghua, his eyes filled with envy, but not jealousy.

Because he knew that such a kindred spirit was rare and hard to find.

It's not that he's not good enough, it's just that he hasn't reached that point yet.

Lian'er, who was watching intently, suddenly whispered, "Miss, young master, if I may be so bold as to say something—I only half understood what you two were saying just now, but it warmed my heart. It's like...like drinking a bowl of hot and spicy soup in the dead of winter, warming me from my throat to my heart."

Li Jingniang and Wang Zhonghua exchanged a glance and smiled at the same time.

Thanks to Wang Zhonghua, the "soup seller," this spicy soup has become popular in Chenzhou and is poised to sweep across other regions.

This girl expressed her truest feelings in the simplest of words.

Wang Zhonghua laughed and said, "Lian'er's words make more sense than what we just said. Ultimately, aren't lyrics, music, music, and painting all about warming people's hearts?"

Li Jingniang nodded, her eyes full of approval.

"Young master is right." She looked at Lian'er with gentle eyes. "Lian'er may not know many characters, but she remembers Brother Liu's lyrics the most clearly and listens to Young master's music the most attentively. Because she puts her heart into it."

She paused, then said softly, "Music and literature, these arts are all about exchanging hearts."

Upon hearing this, Liu Sanbian suddenly slapped his thigh: "Brilliant! 'Heart for heart'—these four words are a hundred times better than those clichés in poetry and lyrics!"

He staggered to his feet and bowed deeply to Li Jingniang: "Jingniang, I, Liu Sanbian, am convinced. From now on, if you have any orders, I will go through fire and water for you!"

Li Jingniang quickly helped him up and said with a smile, "Brother Liu is drunk. Please sit down and rest. I don't have any instructions. I only hope that when you write lyrics in the future, you can think more about those who listen to your lyrics attentively—those ordinary people, those peddlers and laborers, those like Lian'er who are illiterate but truly love your lyrics."

Liu Sanbian was stunned.

He recalled those years in brothels and taverns, the singing girls who wept upon hearing his lyrics, the drinkers who swayed their heads to his tunes, and the vendors who, despite not understanding the tones of classical Chinese poetry, loved to hum his verses.

They don't understand techniques, rules of meter, or the concepts of "the realm of self" and "the realm of no-self."

They were simply listening attentively.

Liu Sanbian suddenly felt his eyes sting.

He picked up the wine jug, tilted his head back, and gulped down the wine, which dripped down his chin and soaked his clothes.

Wang Zhonghua was filled with emotion as he watched this scene.

In this era, the term "art" did not yet exist; things like music were called "crafts." And the art of crafts was still the prerogative of the literati, a pastime for scholars and gentlemen. But true crafts should never be something lofty and unattainable; rather, they should enter the lives of ordinary people and touch the hearts of the people.

He suddenly had an idea.

"Jingniang," he said, "I have a request."

"Please speak, young master."

"On the day of the celebration banquet at the String Pavilion, I would like to invite Jingniang to perform a piece on stage."

Li Jingniang was taken aback: "This concubine?"

“Yes.” Wang Zhonghua’s eyes were burning. “Not in this brothel, not at a gathering of literati, but in the Xiange Tower, facing a full house of guests—officials, gentry, merchants, and ordinary people.”

Li Jingniang was stunned.

Since she entered the music profession, she had never performed in such a public setting. Performances in brothels were for patrons; performances at literary gatherings were for scholars. But the kind of setting Wang Zhonghua described—a gathering of all sorts of people from all walks of life—was something she had never imagined.

"Young master..." Her voice trembled slightly, "I am of lowly status and fear that I may tarnish your banquet."

Wang Zhonghua shook his head: "Jingniang, you are mistaken. You just said that we should have integrity even in brothels, and that there should be upright people even in this place of debauchery. If we are upright, why should we be afraid to see the light of day? If we have integrity, why should we not show it to others?"

He looked out at the night sky and said, word by word, "I want my family, who live a life of music and poetry, to become a bridge—a bridge where the refined and the common meet."

The room was completely silent.

Liu Sanbian, clutching the wine jug, stared blankly at Wang Zhonghua, his eyes filled with shock.

Lian'er covered her mouth, her eyes red, whether from being moved or frightened, it was hard to tell.

Li Jingniang stood there for a long, long time before softly saying, "Young master's words... I..."

She couldn't continue speaking, so she bowed deeply and performed a grand gesture of respect.

"If you don't mind, young master, I am willing to go."

A slight blush spread across Li Jingniang's cheeks, her eyes shone like stars, and she sighed softly, "A single conversation with you is worth more than ten years of study. What a pity..."

"What's a pity?" Wang Zhonghua asked.

"It's a pity it's late, and you have important business to attend to tomorrow. Besides," she glanced slightly towards the door, her voice low and carrying a hint of deeper meaning, "this place, though pleasant, is not suitable for lingering conversation. Your plans are sure to succeed, but you must be careful on your journey. There will be plenty of time in the future. When you celebrate your victory at the Xiange family's banquet, I will prepare fine wine, and we can enjoy a good drink together. What do you say?"

Her words ended abruptly at just the right moment, expressing both mutual respect and leaving enough suspense and anticipation. The profound meaning contained in her unfinished words, as well as the implication of the "victory celebration banquet" she mentioned, made Wang Zhonghua feel that there must be a more complex power and secrets hidden behind this woman.

Wang Zhonghua understood immediately, rose to take his leave, and said, "Then it's a deal. I will certainly prepare my bed and wait for Jingniang's good news."

After saying this, he turned and left, but pondered every word Li Jingniang had said. Who had entrusted her to support him? Did knowing when to advance and retreat mean offering the secret brewing recipe? And what did "take care on your journey" mean...?