Some zither melodies are lofty, while some confuse the heart. Whether they are meant to clear the mind or distract it, who can say.
But he wanted to play the zither for Yun Qian, because in dreams, even without a guqin, he could conjure one.
Having been on Muyu Peak for so long, he knew a bit of the seven-stringed zither and the five-stringed zither, and could play simple tunes that were decent enough.
So.
Xu Changâan believed Miss Yun would surely be interested in his zither skills. He imagined his technique wasnât great, and it would be hard to respond to her praise with a straight face... yet he never considered... Yun Qian might not want to listen at all.
Could it be that she saw through his intent to soothe her with his music?
Yet, with his skill, he couldnât achieve the depth and calm of Senior Zhu, and she had no reason to worry.
But after drinking, Yun Qian certainly wasnât in the mood to listen to music. She could save that for a good day outside, embracing Li Hua in the courtyard to listen to her husband play.
Right now, there were naturally more important matters.
The circulation of alcohol in her blood had brought a lovely flush to Yun Qianâs face. She held her hot cheek with one hand and her left hand fell to the waistband of her dress, murmuring, "Next time. I donât want to listen today."
Xu Changâan: "..."
From his perspective, he could see Yun Qian gently loosen the waistband, her entire attire instantly becoming slack.
He averted his gaze.
How beautiful was Yun Qianâs room?
The ceiling hung with luxurious and exquisite silk, the windows veiled by light blue gauze. Under the lamplight, the silk hanging down resembled Yun Qianâs cascading hair, full of elegance.
He had to admit, his attempt to shift attention was foolish. Even someone as slow-witted as Yun Qian could easily discern his avoidance.
"Iâm tired." Yun Qian wrapped the item around her wrist twice, then casually placed it on the drinking table, pushing it toward Xu Changâanâs cup.
Xu Changâan looked down and swallowed.
The waistband.
Now in front of his wine cup was the waistband from her dress.
"Miss, what do you want... to do?" Xu Changâan picked up the waistband, looking at her with a complicated expression.
"Donât you know?" Yun Qian met his gaze, puzzled.
"Youâre drunk," Xu Changâan said.
"Iâm not drunk, not yet at least...just feeling a little warm; itâll pass in a moment." Yun Qian slowly propped herself up on the table, her clothes loose, resembling sleepwear.
Yun Qian had no intention of postponing the moment; she walked to the couch, sat down, took off her coat, and hung it on the nearby rack before saying, "Letâs light another brazier later; itâs still a bit cold."
"..."
"What are you waiting for?" Yun Qian said, "Weâve just soaked in the hot spring; no need to wash again."
"...I, I..." Xu Changâan was momentarily speechless, unsure of what to say.
He and Miss Yun werenât middle-aged spouses, so where did this sudden sense of "Letâs go inside" come from?
Seeing Xu Changâan lost, Yun Qian calmly looked at him: "Whatâs wrong? I thought you would have figured it out."
"What do you mean?" Xu Changâan was taken aback, suddenly having a bad premonition.
"For instance, this pot of tea?" With Xu Changâanâs surprised gaze, Yun Qian reached into the void and took out a teapot, saying, "Isnât this the teapot you left ashore at the hot spring? Doesnât it mean anything?"
Tea Clear Heart.
He doesnât drink tea, meaning he doesnât want a clear heart.
Wine brings joy.
He didnât drink tea, but poured himself wine... What he wanted to do was very transparent in Yun Qianâs eyes.
"Miss, can you even... use this?" Xu Changâan instantly realized what Yun Qian meant, stubbornly saying, "I didnât drink tea because after eating sweet fruits, I canât taste the tea."
"But not drinking tea means you lack a clear heart." Yun Qian lightly said something that left Xu Changâan unable to lift his head.
She made a lot of sense.
Miss Yun wasnât usually sharp, so how could she be this piercing in critical moments, stabbing him straight to the heart with one sentence?
But no means no.
Whether being intimate with Miss Yun in a conscious state counts as infidelity in a dream... he couldnât manage it without understanding this yet.
"Miss..."
"And."
Xu Changâan was about to explain when Yun Qian interrupted him, got up, walked barefoot to the dressing table, opened a drawer, and took out a handheld glass mirror.
"Didnât you say you wanted to look in the mirror; here, see for yourself." Yun Qian handed the mirror over.
Xu Changâan blankly looked at her hand, instinctively stepping back.
"Take it." Yun Qian stepped forward, placing the mirror in his hand: "Look."
Xu Changâan mindlessly looked into it and froze.
In the mirror, he saw a young boy, not nearly as refined as his appearance after Open Source; instead, it was a boyish, handsome face of someone younger.
It was him from a few years ago.
Why was this?
This was his dream, he had all his memories, wasnât he supposed to appear as he did with the Chaoyun Sect, how could he be an immature boy, how could he be... a fake?
Xu Changâan suddenly understood why Yun Qian didnât let him look in the mirror, she was right.
Xu Changâan was sure he wouldnât forget, at that age, he had just confirmed his relationship with her.
If this was truly him, then the previous worries about infidelity would have been entirely meaningless.