A few minutes later, Yan Mei walked toward the Alchemy Hall, her footsteps light and graceful as she moved through the quiet compound. She noticed Chen Ying and the other cultivators exiting the hall. From their attire, she could tell they were from Pill City. They exchanged brief words with the Patriarch before departing, their aura still vibrant with energy.
Chen Ying, however, seemed detached from the conversations, his expression focused as he walked alone, heading toward his chambers with his head slightly tilted downward, deep in thought.
"I've finally broken through..." he thought to himself, his fingers subconsciously brushing against the fabric of his sleeves. The spiritual energy still lingered in the air, almost as if it were vibrating with his presence. "Now, I need to ascend to the Heavenly Court... and take revenge for Ling'er. I need to find her." His brows furrowed, and his eyes narrowed slightly as his thoughts spiraled into the past.
"Ah, Ying!" Yan Mei's voice cut through the air, soft yet clear as she approached, holding a wrapped Guqin in her arms. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, watching him as she made her way closer.
Chen Ying stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow as he turned to face her, his usually composed expression softening just slightly at the sight of her. His deep, dark eyes studied her intently, a faint hint of surprise flickering across his features. "Yan Mei... What brings you here?" His voice was steady, though his gaze lingered on her, and the subtle energy in his posture shifted slightly, as if a ripple had passed through him.
Yan Mei's lips curved into a small, playful smile. "I saw the spiritual energy from the Alchemy Hall... Was it from you, or was a pill being created?" Her eyes glistened with intrigue, observing him.
Chen Ying chuckled lightly, the sound soft but genuine, and for a moment, his usually neutral face softened. He could tell she was studying him closely, her gaze never leaving his.
"It's been so long since I've heard him laugh," Yan Mei thought, her heart warming at the sight of his expression. "He seems happy now... at least he won't be humiliated anymore."
He tilted his head slightly, his hands clasped behind his back, his stance proud yet relaxed. "It was me," he said, his voice calm but carrying a hint of pride. "I've broken through... I'm at the Peak of Qi Condensation now."
Yan Mei's smile deepened, and she gave a nod of approval. "That's great..." she said, her voice full of warmth. "At least no one will make fun of you anymore."
Her words were light, but they held a deeper meaning. Chen Ying's eyes softened for just a moment, and then his gaze shifted down to the wrapped Guqin in her hands.
"What's this?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. He gestured gently toward the object she was holding, his slender fingers moving with fluid elegance, like a man who had mastered grace in every movement.
Yan Mei's smile turned a little more playful as she held the Guqin out to him. "It's your Guqin," she said, her tone casual. "You haven't touched it in a while, and before our wedding tomorrow, I thought I'd bring it to you." She paused for a moment, as if considering her words. "No more waiting for two days."
Chen Ying's gaze lingered on the wrapped object for a moment, his fingers brushing over the cloth as memories stirred within him with his Qing Chen sense." According to Chen Ying's memories, he used to love playing the Guqin," he thought, the faintest tinge of nostalgia crossing his mind. He had played for Yan Mei once, long ago, before the bullying had silenced him. His fingers brushed through the cloth slowly, and he found himself remembering the gentle, soothing music that once filled his heart.
But then, a sigh escaped his lips, and he looked back up at Yan Mei, his face once again neutral but still tinged with the faintest trace of melancholy. "I'll play tonight," he said, his voice quieter than before. "But first, I have things I need to take care of..."
He handed the Guqin back to her, but the motion was gentle, as if reluctant he remembered the soul of the original Chen Ying request His gaze lingered on Yan Mei for a brief moment, and in that instant, something flickered in his chest—a feeling of duty, of a promise he had to keep.
"Let's go," he added, breaking the moment, and began walking toward a nearby gazebo. Yan Mei followed him, a soft smile still lingering on her face, though there was an unspoken sadness behind her eyes.
The two arrived at the gazebo, the cool breeze brushing through the trees and causing the leaves to rustle in the silence of the afternoon. Chen Ying took a seat in front of the Guqin, his slender fingers resting on the strings as he prepared to play.
Yan Mei watched him intently, sitting across from him with a slight tilt of her head. As the first note sounded, she was immediately entranced. Chen Ying's beauty seemed to shine even brighter in the daylight, his features soft yet defined, his hair falling like dark silk around his shoulders as he played. Each movement of his fingers on the strings was delicate and precise, like a dance of pure elegance.
The soft melody filled the air, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fall away. Chen Ying's expression was tranquil, lost in the music, his eyes half-lidded as if he were playing for no one but himself. Yet, Yan Mei couldn't help but feel that each note was meant for her—a song for her heart, even if he didn't fully realize it.
As the song flowed, the nearby servants paused in their duties, drawn to the melody. They exchanged looks of surprise and admiration, murmuring among themselves, impressed by the tenderness of the music and the apparent harmony between Chen Ying and Yan Mei
As Chen Xin sat at the table with his sister Chen Xue, playing their game of Go, a delicate melody suddenly wafted through the air. He paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the black stone as his neck instinctively turned toward the source of the music.
"He has resumed playing the Guqin... This must be a new piece," Chen Xin thought, furrowing his brows slightly, his curiosity piqued by the soft but profound sound.
Chen Xue, her eyes focused on the board, moved a black stone thoughtfully. Her expression was calm, but her voice betrayed a playful glint. "It seems like Yan Mei and Chen Ying are getting along well, don't you think, brother?" she said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she shifted her gaze from the board to her brother.
Chen Xin responded with a dry smile, his voice tinged with a bit of cynicism. "They are married... but only for family interests. It's all just a facade." He picked up a white stone and placed it on the board with deliberate precision. "Yan Mei will be heading to the Ice Palace soon, and Chen Ying... he'll be alone. He should focus on cultivating ."
Meanwhile, at the gazebo, Chen Ying's fingers delicately brushed against the strings of the Guqin, the wood of the instrument gleaming softly in the fading sunlight. The song began to flow, a soft, melancholic tune that resonated with a deep, aching beauty. Each note seemed to pierce the still air, and as his fingers moved, it was as though the world around him slowed down.
But the melody... the melody was more than just music. It was a ghost from his past.
This was the same song he had played for Zi Ling, his lover in his previous life—through flute—on countless quiet nights by the river, under the silver light of the moon. The intensity of the song swirled around him like a whirlwind, and as the notes passed through his fingers, a deep ache pierced his heart. He could see Zi Ling's smile, her soft laughter, and her gentle touch. All of it rushed back—those feelings of loss, regret, and the love that could never be.
His fingers trembled slightly, but he pressed on, losing himself in the music. Yet as the melody continued, his heart felt heavy, and a growing discomfort began to settle within him. The soft sound of the Guqin, which once felt like a natural extension of himself, now felt foreign. Memories of Qing Chen—his first life—lingered in his mind, making it feel as though the music was both a gift and a curse.
His heart tightened as he played, his expression strained. He could almost see Zi Ling's face again, but then, as the song reached a delicate crescendo, the music faltered—a single, wrong note that shattered the fragile calm of the melody.
Chen Ying's fingers trembled, and the music faltered, and his expression shifted—a flicker of pain and regret flashed across his face. He stopped abruptly, his hands pausing above the strings, the sudden silence between the notes like a void swallowing him whole. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead, and his fingers curled into tense fists, the deep ache of remembering threatening to overwhelm him.
Yan Mei stood up, concern filling her eyes as she walked toward him. "What happened?" Her voice was soft, gentle, but the question held weight. She could sense something was wrong.
Chen Ying stood abruptly, his usual calm demeanor cracking for a moment. He turned away, his back to her, and exhaled sharply. "I'm very tired... I'll play again next time." His voice was distant, as if the words were harder to say than usual.
"You didn't say the name of the song," Yan Mei said, her voice almost a whisper. She could feel the tension in the air, but she didn't know what to do. Her gaze lingered on his back, the uncertainty and sorrow in his posture only deepening her concern.
Chen Ying shook his head slowly, his fingers trembling beneath his sleeve as he closed his eyes. "No need," he said, his tone quiet but firm. "It's nothing important."
His voice cracked slightly, but he quickly masked it, turning to leave, his steps slow and heavy. "I'll take my leave... I'm very tired," he said, his head bowed low as he walked away.
Yan Mei watched him go, her chest tight with emotions she didn't fully understand. She stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where he had been. Though she wasn't devastated, a faint sadness lingered in her heart as she returned to her seat in the gazebo, the wind filling the silence between them.