The wedding was livestreamed by the sister, revealing his identity as a Taoist priest.

As soon as Zhou Xiuqing finished speaking, everyone's eyes were focused on the coffee table in front of them.

Su Qingluan frowned slightly.

He didn't look at Zhou Xiuqing, whose face was full of pleading, nor at the Song family members who were on high alert.

He turned his head and his gaze fell on Shen Nianqing.

She presented this zither to Shen Nianqing last night in front of all the celebrities present.

Once Tianyin Pavilion sends something out, it has no right to make decisions for its owner again.

Shen Zhengting and Shen Xingzhou exchanged a glance, and a look of realization flashed in their eyes at the same time.

It turned out to be the case.

The Song family mobilized their entire clan, chartering a plane overnight to rush to Jiangcheng, even offering an exorbitant price: "to use the full strength of the clan to clear all obstacles." They were definitely not there to do charity.

They came for this instrument.

Shen Xingzhou cursed inwardly.

These families with a long history in the arts are simply a bunch of lunatics.

The Wang and Lin families in the capital were fighting tooth and nail for the interests of Jiangcheng, but the Song family was willing to part with their entire fortune just to catch a glimpse of that blockhead.

Shen Nianqing held the celadon teacup, met Su Qingluan's gaze, and nodded slightly.

"Big brother."

Shen Nianqing put down her teacup, her voice steady.

"Please go to the study and fetch it."

Without saying a word, Shen Xingzhou turned around and went upstairs.

His steps were very long, even bordering on jogging.

During the few minutes of waiting, the air in the living room seemed to freeze.

Zhou Xiuqing did not sit back down on the sofa.

Leaning on a sandalwood cane, he stood still, his back hunched.

Song Changfeng stood beside her, his palms covered in cold sweat.

He understood his mother's current state better than anyone else.

That was the prelude to the eruption of a long-suppressed obsession.

Song Yun and Tang Xiaoxiao stood at the very back of the line.

Tang Xiaoxiao stood on tiptoe, her eyes wide open.

Song Yun stared intently at Shen Nianqing, who was sitting in the main seat.

That's too stable.

The daughter of Jiangcheng's richest man didn't even blink an eye in the face of the oppressive atmosphere emanating from the entire Song family.

That composure, that absolute control over the situation, made Song Yun, a self-proclaimed noblewoman and genius, feel an indescribable sense of defeat.

Hurried footsteps came from the stairwell.

Shen Xingzhou came down carrying a huge sandalwood brocade box.

The brocade box was extremely heavy, and he walked very carefully, afraid of bumping or damaging it in the slightest.

Zhou Xiuqing's gaze instantly locked onto the brocade box.

Shen Xingzhou walked to the coffee table and gently placed the brocade box down.

He glanced at Shen Nianqing, and seeing his sister nod, he reached out and untied the gold thread lock on the brocade box.

"Click".

The lid is lifted.

The dark purple body of the instrument lay quietly on the bright yellow silk.

The instrument is covered with ice cracks, and the wood grain of the lightning-struck wood is interwoven with charred black and dark light. There is also a phoenix with outstretched wings on the head of the instrument.

Two flawless blood diamonds, under the crystal chandelier in the living room, refracted a breathtaking red glow.

Clang.

Zhou Xiuqing's sandalwood cane fell onto the carpet.

He pushed away Song Changfeng's outstretched hand and stumbled forward two steps.

His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the edge of the coffee table.

"Mother!"

Song Changfeng was greatly alarmed.

"Don't touch me!"

Zhou Xiuqing roared sharply, her voice so shrill it cracked.

Song Changfeng abruptly stopped in his tracks, frozen in place.

Zhou Xiuqing stretched out her hands.

I didn't dare touch it directly, but instead traced the texture of the instrument from a distance of an inch, bit by bit.

"Struck by lightning, the gloomy sky...uncorrupted for eight hundred years..."

Zhou Xiuqing burst into tears.

She saw the natural scorch mark left by lightning beneath the phoenix's wings.

It was exactly the same as what she had seen on the legs of that blind Taoist nun in the snow and wind of Zhongnan Mountain sixty years ago.

"It's true..."

Zhou Xiuqing sobbed uncontrollably, her head buried in the edge of the coffee table, her shoulders trembling violently.

"It really is it... I've been looking for it for sixty years... I thought I'd never see it again in this lifetime..."

The hall was completely silent.

Song Changlin, Song Qingping, and other core members of the Song family saw their usually dignified ancestor crying like this, and their eyes all turned red.

Song Yun stood in the back row, tears welling up in her eyes.

She understood her grandmother's suffering. The Song family's century-old business had been entirely supported by her grandmother alone.

And the mountain that Grandma had been carrying in her heart finally appeared before her eyes today.

Tang Xiaoxiao swallowed and muttered to herself.

"My goodness, what's the story behind this instrument? Look how excited the old lady is..."

Zhou Xiuqing cried for a full three minutes.

Finally, he reached out and gently touched the cold strings with his fingertips.

"Zheng".

A very faint buzzing sound.

Zhou Xiuqing withdrew her hand as if she had been electrocuted.

With his eyes closed, an indescribable sense of satisfaction and relief appeared on his face.

That's enough.

Zhou Xiuqing muttered to herself.

"If I could hear the cry of a phoenix one more time in this life, I would die happy."

She braced herself against the edge of the coffee table and slowly and laboriously stood up.

Song Changfeng quickly stepped forward, picked up the cane, and handed it to her.

Zhou Xiuqing did not take the crutch.

I straightened the hem of my navy blue suit.

Then she turned around.

His gaze passed over the coffee table, past Shen Nianqing, and landed directly on Su Qingluan.

Su Qingluan remained seated on the sofa, toying with an empty teacup in her hand.

"girl."

Zhou Xiuqing spoke with unprecedented solemnity.

Su Qingluan raised her eyelids and looked at her.

"May I ask a question?"

Zhou Xiuqing clasped her hands together in front of her, her fingers tightly intertwined.

"Young lady... are you a direct descendant of the Heavenly Sound Pavilion?"

Everyone in the Song family held their breath instantly.

Shen Zhengting and Shen Xingzhou also perked up their ears.

They only knew that Su Qingluan was Chen Shidu's junior sister, but they didn't know what the three words "Tianyin Pavilion" really meant in certain circles.

Su Qingluan put down her teacup.

The porcelain base made a soft sound as it hit the glass tabletop.

"Yes."

Su Qingluan uttered a single word.

Zhou Xiuqing's pupils suddenly contracted.

His chest heaved violently twice.

Then, she made a move that caught everyone present, including Shen Nianqing, completely off guard.

Zhou Xiuqing pushed Song Changfeng away.

She walked to the side of the coffee table, facing Su Qingluan, and bent her knees.

"thump!"

This over-seventy-year-old master of traditional Chinese music, renowned throughout the country, is the patriarch of the most prestigious family in Suzhou.

Without warning, he knelt heavily on the carpet.

"Mother!"

"grandmother!"

Song Changfeng and Song Changlin were shocked, and Song Yun even exclaimed in surprise.

More than a dozen core members of the Song family instinctively rushed forward to help him up.

"Get out of my way!"

Zhou Xiuqing turned around and shouted angrily, her eyes as fierce as knives.

The Song family was stunned into standing still by the shout, caught in a dilemma.

Shen Xingzhou's jaw almost dropped to the ground.

Look at Zhou Xiuqing kneeling on the ground, then look at Su Qingluan sitting on the sofa as steady as a mountain.

My brain completely shut down.

Chen Xiaoyu gasped in the corner, covering her mouth tightly, afraid of making a sound.

Zhou Xiuqing turned her head back.

Place your hands on the ground, with your forehead pressed against the back of your hands.

A most standard and oldest form of apprenticeship ceremony.

"At the foot of Zhongnan Mountain, amidst wind and snow."

Zhou Xiuqing's voice echoed in the hall, filled with uncontrollable excitement and piety.

"Listening to the zither for fifteen days is a benefit that lasts for sixty years."

"Zhou Xiuqing, an unregistered disciple of the outer sect of Tianyin Pavilion."

She suddenly raised her head, looked up at Su Qingluan, tears streaming down her face, and spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Greetings, Young Master!"

P.S.: Thank you to [Pure Yang Immortal Venerable Who Loves Eggs and Milk] for the gift. Thank you everyone for your support. We've dropped to second place again, so please give us lots of positive reviews and recommendations. Let's all keep pushing!