Chapter 187: The Kite String

Jiang Xuening’s carriage made its way to Guanlan Tower.

It was a crisp autumn day, and most people had gone to the Qinhuai River or nearby mountains to admire the osmanthus flowers and visit temples. The tea house was unusually quiet, and the owner was overjoyed to see a customer, especially one who had booked the entire place.

The tea house was elegantly decorated.

On the second floor, near the railing, a special area had been set up as a qin platform, with a qin table and a qin placed on it. In the corner, there was an incense burner with a decent amount of agarwood burning inside.

However, with few customers around, there was no qin player performing.

Jiang Xuening had come to wait for someone and didn’t want to be disturbed. She dismissed the tea attendant who came to serve her and didn’t call for a qin player either. Instead, she picked up a book to pass the time while waiting for the meeting in Qingyuan to conclude so she could meet Lu Xian.

Wei Liang, on the other hand, was bored. The bookshelf was filled with classics, histories, poetry, and other literary works, none of which interested him in the slightest. After forcing himself to drink half a cup of tea, he stood up, sat down again, and paced back and forth, finding nothing to do. The lack of people in the tea house made it impossible for him to slip away unnoticed.

Though the scenery was pleasant, he felt constrained.

After wandering around for a while, he walked over to the railing and looked outside.

When he turned around, he noticed the qin.

Farming was his passion, while studying was his bane. He disliked anything refined and preferred more mundane activities.

But the qin was an exception.

In the past, when he had to study, he had always been drawn to the qin. Now, with nothing to do, seeing the qin made his fingers itch to play. Noticing that Jiang Xuening was absorbed in her book and paying no attention to him, he walked over to the qin platform and sat down at the qin table.

The tea house wasn’t particularly upscale, so the qin wasn’t of the highest quality either.

But when he plucked the strings to test the sound, it wasn’t too bad.

Wei Liang casually began to play a piece.

Jiang Xuening had been reading, but her mind was mostly preoccupied with the upcoming meeting with Lu Xian. She was thinking about what to discuss and how to approach the conversation, so she wasn’t fully focused on the book.

When the sound of the qin suddenly reached her ears, she was momentarily startled.

Looking up, she realized it was Wei Liang playing.

He was performing a piece called *”Qing Ping Yin”*—a melody that evoked the image of wind rising from the ground, starting from the tips of duckweed. Playing it on this high floor during the clear autumn weather unexpectedly resonated with her current state of mind.

In these turbulent times, it was hard to tell when the winds of change would blow.

Jiang Xuening set down the book she had barely flipped through and listened quietly until Wei Liang finished playing. Then she said, “So Young Master Wei can play the qin as well.”

Wei Liang had played on a whim and hadn’t expected her to be listening. When he looked up and saw her gentle gaze fixed on him, a sudden warmth rushed to his face, and he felt an awkward sense of showing off in front of others. Flustered, he quickly stood up and explained, “I was just idling around. My skills are crude, and I fear I’ve offended your ears.”

He stood up too quickly, and his sleeve caught on the corner of the table.

The qin on the table was knocked askew.

Jiang Xuening couldn’t help but laugh. “If anyone’s playing would offend ears, it would be mine. Young Master Wei played beautifully. Why would I laugh at you?”

Wei Liang was at a loss for words.

He had never been particularly eloquent, and after standing there for a while, he stammered, “Do you… also enjoy the qin?”

Enjoy the qin?

She wouldn’t dare.

Jiang Xuening lowered her gaze, set down the book, and walked over. She straightened the qin that had been knocked askew and said, “My skills are clumsy, and I lack the purity of heart—I’m not worthy of playing the qin.”

Wei Liang was momentarily stunned.

The woman before him stood on the other side of the qin platform, her slightly downcast eyes seeming to hide something. Her slender fingers rested on the edge of the qin, and the way she held herself suggested she was no stranger to the instrument. A faint scent of lotus drifted from her sleeves, adding a touch of delicate coolness to her striking beauty.

But isn’t this proprietor supposed to be obsessed with money?

At this moment, she didn’t seem like a merchant reeking of greed at all.

His gaze lingered on Jiang Xuening, momentarily confused.

Jiang Xuening, however, was reminded of some people and events from the past. She frowned slightly and was about to withdraw her hand from the qin when a young servant rushed upstairs: “Miss, miss!”

Startled, she asked, “Has the meeting at Qingyuan ended?”

The servant pointed outside and said, “No, but someone outside is asking for you.”

In Jinling, she didn’t know many people.

Since the meeting at Qingyuan hadn’t ended, it couldn’t be Lu Xian looking for her.

Jiang Xuening felt a sudden sense of unease. She was already standing on the second-floor qin platform and instinctively followed the servant’s pointing finger, looking toward the road outside the tea house. The moment her gaze landed on the scene below, her entire body stiffened as if struck by lightning.

She could hardly believe her eyes.

The first thought that flashed through her mind was—

Impossible.

From the capital to Jinling, spanning over two thousand miles from north to south, how fast would one have to change horses and endure days without rest to cover such a distance in just over ten days, crossing countless barriers to reach the south?

Wei Liang, who had been standing with his back to the railing, noticed Jiang Xuening’s strange expression as she looked downward and couldn’t help but turn to follow her gaze.

He saw a group of about a dozen people had arrived by the roadside.

Most of them were on horseback, dressed in tight-fitting attire, their figures lean and strong. However, they looked exhausted, as if they had traveled a great distance without rest. Their lips were pale and chapped, showing signs of prolonged fatigue.

A young man in blue had already dismounted.

Despite their numbers, the group was eerily quiet.

Even the horses were silent.

Though Wei Liang was usually slow to catch on, even he could sense something unusual about this group, especially the man at the front, who was particularly striking.

And Jiang Xuening’s gaze was fixed precisely on this man.

Two years had passed, but the Imperial Tutor seemed almost unchanged.

He still favored his snow-white Taoist robes.

However, the long journey had clearly taken its toll, leaving him noticeably thinner. The hooves of his white horse were splattered with mud, and the hem of his once-pristine robe was stained. His right hand gripped the reins so tightly that layers of bloodstains had formed, yet he seemed oblivious to the pain. His cold, indifferent face tilted upward, his eyes locking onto Jiang Xuening on the high platform.

When Wei Liang’s gaze fell on him, the man’s eyes shifted slightly, meeting Wei Liang’s.

In that instant, Wei Liang felt a chill run down his spine.

Though the man’s gaze was calm and almost devoid of emotion, Wei Liang felt as if he had glimpsed a storm of violence and danger hidden within. But when he blinked, the man’s eyes were once again serene and distant, as if untouched by the world, and they soon moved away.

Once, Lu Xian had asked him, “I know you’re not that kind of person, but if she leaves and never returns to the capital, will you just let her go?”

He had never answered.

Because he knew that a kite always flies into the sky, but as long as the string tied to it remains unbroken, no matter how far it flies, it will eventually return. Her promise to Princess Shen Zhiyi was that string. Only with this string could he rightfully pull the kite back or follow it to find her.

Xie Wei felt like a madman.

He had traveled thousands of miles.

Only now did he remember that he hadn’t slept for days, and a sudden, indescribable weariness washed over him. Without a word, he averted his gaze and prepared to call his men to leave.

Jiang Xuening naturally noticed the moment he looked at Wei Liang. She hadn’t initially felt any fault in herself, but when he lowered his eyes and frowned, an inexplicable sense of guilt she shouldn’t have felt crept into her heart.

At the same time, she was filled with countless questions—

Why would Xie Wei come looking for her at this critical moment?

Seeing that he was about to leave, she couldn’t overthink it. Without hesitation, she called out, “Sir!”

Xie Wei stopped.

Jiang Xuening, concerned about Shen Zhiyi, gritted her teeth and ignored Wei Liang’s astonished gaze. She lifted the hem of her skirt and hurried downstairs, stopping in front of Xie Wei’s horse. She looked up at him, but when she opened her mouth, she found herself at a loss for words.

The sunlight bathed his figure.

The stained hem of his Taoist robe fluttered in the wind.

Xie Wei’s distant, ink-wash-like brows and eyes were shadowed by the backlight, making his expression unclear. He looked down at her, his gaze calm, and after a long pause, he handed her a piece of paper he had been holding between his fingers. His voice was steady and emotionless as he said, “We depart for the border in three days. If you’ve made up your mind, you may come along.”

How could she dare show any neglect now?

She took the thin sheet of paper with both hands, and as her gaze fell, she noticed the marks left by the reins on Xie Wei’s fingers.

In her mind, she suddenly recalled the moment she had broken free from that hand, and the blood that had dripped to the ground.

Jiang Xuening didn’t dare look at Xie Wei.

Xie Wei didn’t say anything more to her either.

The sound of reins jingling filled the air as the mud-splattered hooves of the horse trod the ground. Dao Qin hurriedly bowed to her before mounting his horse and leading the group to follow Xie Wei into the distance.

Wei Liang, still on the second floor, was utterly confused.

The sound of hoofbeats faded, and the street before her was now empty.

Jiang Xuening felt as if she had just woken from a vivid dream.

Only the sheet of paper in her hand reminded her that what had just happened was not an illusion.

She slowly unfolded the page.

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