The upper floor was not an enclosed room but an open space with no walls, only railings and sheer curtains. On a breezy day, the rain could even drift inside.

The wooden floor was immaculately clean, adorned with some tables, cushions, and a serene atmosphere.

Behind a pure white curtain, a woman sat before the

guqin

, quietly chatting with a few of the closest scholars about the piece she would play today and recent tales of demons and ghosts.

The seating arrangement seemed to be based on the amount paid. It was said that the minimum was fifteen taels of silver. Song You had paid with a piece and a half of silver that Heroine Wu had given him, which he presumed was a gift from the ghostly courtesan of Peach Blossom Peaks.

Hence, his seat was at the farthest from the

qin

player. Yet, it was near the railing. With a turn of the head, he could see the stormy Changjing, and with a glance down, the rain-washed streets.

The sounds of wind and rain were very clear. In this open environment, the closer you were, the clearer the sound.

Song You looked up toward the woman at the front.

The pure white curtain added a sense of tranquility, especially on this rainy day when the sky was dim, and the attic felt even darker. When the curtain fluttered with the wind, accompanied by the sound of the rain outside, it seemed even more serene. On a sunny day, it would likely create a different ambiance.

The curtain was hung here to add a touch of elegance rather than to shield the woman behind it. When the curtain was blown by the wind, it revealed the woman and the

qin

.

It was a beautifully crafted and ancient

guqin

, black lacquered with golden lines, classical and elegant. It was said to have been passed down for a thousand years and was worth a fortune. While Song You could not assess its value, he could certainly see the marks of time upon it.

The woman was breathtakingly beautiful.

She wore a pure white gown with no decorations or patterns, which made her appear ethereal rather than enhancing her beauty. Its only notable feature was its exceptionally white color. The dress seemed effortlessly worn, adding to her otherworldly charm.

Her face was truly exquisite. It was hard to comprehend how such a beautiful face could exist. If someone were to attempt altering it, they would find it impossible to improve even the slightest detail, for any modification would pale in comparison to its current perfection.

People said that she was more beautiful without makeup than any of the most beautifully adorned women in the world. While this might be an exaggeration, describing her skin as whiter than snow and flawless was a fitting depiction.

In an era where sun protection and skincare were far less advanced than in the future, everyone had poor skin. Such a rare beauty only reminded Song You of the little Swallow Immortal. If she wasn't a born beauty like a divine immortal descended to earth, then she must have been some demon disguised as a human.

Or perhaps, as rumored, she used other methods.

Song You watched her calmly. A gentle breeze suddenly blew in, lifting the white curtains in the pavilion. It stirred those in front and around, even carrying in a few droplets of cool and refreshing fine rain, which fell on the Daoist's face.

The woman greeted the guests with a bow and began to play the

qin

. As her fingertips glided across the strings, the sound emerged softly.

The music was like a flowing stream, unhurried and gentle. The initial notes were leisurely and seemed to linger in the air, unknowingly drawing listeners into a state of calm as they eagerly awaited what came next. 𝘙

Many scholar-officials and literati below sat quietly, listening.

The Daoist slightly squinted his eyes, shifting his gaze from the woman to the outside.

He recalled a saying, “The plucking of the strings makes the crane dance, and the blowing of the bamboo causes the dragon to sing.” Although the music had lost some of its details by the time it reached him at this moment and was mingled with the sounds of the wind and rain outside, along with the fluttering of the rain-drenched white curtains, he still deeply experienced the essence of the saying.

With such heavenly music, it would not be surprising if a crane were to dance upon hearing it, right?

Time flowed quietly, just like the music.

He did not know the name of the piece being played, but it was peaceful and lingering, melodious and moving—perfectly suited to the misty, rainy weather outside.

The rain-soaked Changjing was shrouded in mist. The distant view was blurred, while the nearby scenery was exceptionally clear due to the rain, revealing the true colors of the green stone pavement and the dark tiles on the roofs.

Under the heavy rain, the umbrellas of both passersby and those standing beneath the buildings resembled flowers. As the rain soaked them, it seemed to wash away the grime, making the colors appear even more vivid.

At times, it felt as though the sound of the

qin

had vanished, blending entirely with the rain scene before him. At other moments, it seemed the rain scene had disappeared, becoming a part of the music.

The rain and the

qin

music merged seamlessly, making it hard to distinguish one from the other.

Even the sounds of the wind and rain outside no longer seemed to disrupt the music but rather became part of it, enhancing the overall experience. The rustling of the curtain in the wind no longer felt jarring; everything in Changjing harmonized so perfectly with the

qin

's melody.

Song You was momentarily stunned, filled with amazement.

Miss Wanjiang played the

qin

only once a day, earning at least several hundred taels of silver. He didn’t know if her motive was solely monetary, but he expected her playing to contain some hidden motive. Yet, the level of her skill was extraordinary.

If she played the

qin

purely for the love of it...

He had heard that sometimes, her playing could attract a chorus of birds and dancing cranes, as well as make it rain on a sunny day or snow in summer. Perhaps, during such times, she played the

qin

purely according to her own desires?

Song You had never witnessed such things and could not fully comprehend them.

He could only say that there was no enchantment or demonic magic in the music; it was enchanting entirely due to her superb skill and divine artistry.

She was just like Mr. Yang at Pine Cottage in Yidu. Though not performing professionally, he played for friends at home every day. There were music lovers who would travel from over a hundred li away, just to stand outside the walls and listen to a single piece of his playing.

It was much like Master Kong outside Yizhou back then—his carvings of lifeless objects seemed to come alive, not due to any magic, but purely because of his extraordinary craftsmanship.

From today’s

qin

performance alone, it was clear that the woman’s skill surpassed that of Mr. Yang. Though not as dramatic as Master Kong’s lifelike wooden carvings, her artistry could certainly be described as “only found in heaven.”

The Daoist gradually became absorbed, lost in the sound of the rain. The

qin

music gradually ceased, but the rain outside showed no signs of stopping.

The woman inside the curtain remained seated, while the scholar-officials and literati downstairs slowly returned to their senses. Some were still immersed in the mingling sounds of rain and music.

Unhurried, the woman took her time to stand up.

“Thank you, everyone…” She performed a deep bow, then stood up and left.

As she passed by, she turned her head and glanced in the direction of the Daoist. Next to the Daoist was a plain cloth bag. Though the material was ordinary, it was bulging, revealing the head of a calico cat, which was staring at her.

The woman’s eyes flickered, but she did not pause in her steps.

***

The Daoist was the first to descend the stairs.

The scholar-officials and literati were still upstairs, either reminiscing about the lingering melody or quietly discussing the music and their reflections.

After descending, he found that the ground floor was still occupied by guests. Some of the people on the street outside had left, having braved the rain.

The man who had been sitting with Song You had already stood up but leaned against the door frame without leaving, his beige oiled paper umbrella beside him. He appeared dazed, his gaze unfocused, as if he was lost in reminiscence.

When Song You came to his side and stood beside him, he slowly came back to his senses and picked up the umbrella before he quietly said to Song You, “Sir, you left the umbrella upstairs. I feared you might come down late and find it taken by someone else, so I stayed here to guard it for you.”

“Thank you.”

“I should be the one to thank you for the wine…”

“Well then, I’ll take my leave.”

“Was the music upstairs... pleasant?”

“Yes, it was,” Song You replied as he opened the umbrella, slung the bag containing the calico cat over his shoulder, and walked out of the building into the rain.

The unique charm of Changjing lived up to its reputation; this trip was worth it.

Yet, Changjing was more than just this; it was more than its beautiful scenery and enchanting music. Just like the rain at this moment, which naturally cleansed and revealed another side of Changjing’s beauty. Yet, how many people were caught in the rain?

The Daoist found himself without an umbrella halfway through his journey.

Instead, an elderly man was holding an umbrella while huddled under a wall corner and eaves to avoid the rain. The spring rain was still somewhat chilly, and the makeshift shelter provided by the wall and eaves could hardly protect him from the wind and rain.

His clothes were already quite wet, and with the night falling early on rainy days, he was deeply troubled and initially torn between whether to brave the rain and return home or to stay in the city for the night…

Returning home in the rain seemed too taxing for his old body. If he stayed in the city, where would he find a place to shelter from the wind and rain?

He sighed, lamenting the heavens for their indifference to the plight of the poor.

In the midst of his distress, someone offered him an umbrella.

Holding his umbrella, he turned his head and saw that figure carrying a bag already walking away in the rain. From the bag, a cat's head poked out, turning to meet his gaze.

The Daoist was not deterred by the rain; he braved the rain and continued home through the steadily accumulating water on the cobblestone streets, producing splashes in the puddle with every step.

The cat was also unbothered by the rain. Despite the Daoist’s attempts to ask it to stay within the bag, the cat insisted on poking its head out. It would occasionally look up at the Daoist, who was getting more and more drenched by the rain. Then, it would occasionally glance at the passing people and their umbrellas, and watch the splashes of water on the ground.

No one knew what the cat was thinking, but its amber-like eyes remained clear and observant. The alley was empty, save for the flowing water.

“Do you think the music today was pleasant?” the Daoist asked quietly.

“I’m not sure!” the calico cat responded honestly. After a moment of thought, it added, “But I felt very comfortable listening to it. The sound was quite similar to what we heard in Yidu.”

“Lady Calico, you still remember Mr. Yang from Yidu?”

“Mr. Yang!” It seemed like the cat’s memory was a bit hazy.

Song You wasn’t concerned about that. He said, “Today’s performer is said to be the best at playing the

qin

in Changjing. Her music is probably the most beautiful

qin

music in Changjing and even in the world.”

“That sounds impressive!”

“Now, you’re a cat that has witnessed one of Changjing’s wonders and heard such remarkable music.”

“That sounds impressive!”

Song You simply smiled.

After they passed through the alley, they reached Willow Tree Street. The heroine had nearly returned at the same time as him. Both of them had no umbrellas and were thoroughly soaked, looking quite disheveled. When they met on the street, they only shared a smile.

One laughed, saying how surprising it was that he also got caught in the rain. The other smiled, acknowledging that even Daoists were human sometimes.

***

It was raining today, and he thought that the lady would no longer send anyone to inquire about the matter. However, later in the day, her maid still braved the rain and arrived by carriage. She was carrying an umbrella as she entered the shop.

“Sir! Did you go to see her?”

“Yes, I did.”

“How was it? Is Miss Wanjiang a demon? Did she use minor ghosts to preserve her youth? Or did she employ any demonic arts to bewitch people’s hearts?”

“Please don’t be hasty. I have visited her. Miss Wanjiang’s

qin

skills are indeed exceptional, and there is no bewitching sorcery in her music.” He paused for a moment. “I also did not observe any signs of her using demonic arts to harm people, so she cannot be called a demon. Please report this to your madam. I am unable to offer any help, so please seek assistance from another expert.”

“How can that be? I don’t believe it! Sir, don’t defend her just because she’s beautiful!”

“I have cultivated my heart for many years and am not swayed by female beauty.”

“Please, sir, go see her again!”

“Please seek assistance from another expert…”

The maid was disappointed and helpless. But Song You hadn't taken a single penny from them in the first place. Even if she wanted to insist, there was nothing she could say, and she had no choice but to leave.