The mountain has trees, and the trees have eighty-one branches, a zither challenges.

  She knew that after Chen Hu's sudden death that year, she began to avoid him, and the once close uncle and nephew gradually drifted apart.

  He thought she was blaming herself, blaming herself for not protecting her family well, and even when his wife was dying, he didn't rush back to see her one last time. Only she knew that wasn't the case at all.

  No.

  It should be said that it's not entirely so.

  Although she was heartbroken over Chen Hu's death, she also knew the situation at that time. One quiet moment is not as good as one movement. She saw Liu Ying's grief and could actually sympathize with it.

  What she can't understand is actually herself.

  It was she herself who suddenly discovered that the Han Palace was even more gray and terrifying than she had imagined. The palace was originally full of thorns, which she already knew, but when she saw a bright color she liked being brutally strangled, she realized that human life could be as insignificant as grass, no matter how noble her status, death would only leave behind a handful of yellow earth. And that magnificent yet cold Han Palace couldn't even tolerate this small and weak clear stream.

  It's like a glutton with its huge mouth open, quietly waiting to swallow one by one the people who walk into this palace with dreams and beautiful hopes.

  She was just blaming herself. Blaming herself for a moment of selfishness, which led to the beautiful but somewhat naive girl entering the Han Palace, and when she saw that gluttonous beast devouring the woman like a sudden storm, her teeth chattered, and she couldn't help but think that if she hadn't insisted on Liu Ying taking her to play by the Wei River on that spring day, everything might have been different.

  Will Chen Hu never die?

  With this secret guilt in mind, after Liu Ying lost his wife and children, when he wanted to find the last warmth from her, her instincts refused to respond.

  He was hurt, she knew. But at that time she herself was also battered all over. She chose to protect herself first.

  She was afraid, so she deserted.

  Escaping from that Han palace, she fled back to Xuanping. She didn't think about Chang'an, nor the people in the Han palace who were resplendent on the surface but filthy inside. She didn't think of him. The mountains and rivers of Xuanping were clear and beautiful, gradually healing her body and mind.

  Until then, Zhang Xie mentioned that name.

  Zhang Yan sniffled.

  She suddenly remembered when she first crossed into this dynasty, that first boy who reached out his hand to her, with a warm smile.

  She always wanted to repay his kindness and help him start a brand new life with all her heart.

  But it was she who hurt him first.

  "Daughter." Tong Ru walked in and asked with a smile, "What are you thinking about?"

  "Quickly," Zhang Yan said with a mixture of tears and laughter, "go to the housekeeper's place and get some of the Xiang Fei bamboo that came from Chu Di the other day. Then go to the warehouse and get the best Qi Ni fabric."

  "What is this girl going to do?"

  "Mm." She pursed her lips, "I want to form a band."

  "Round fan?" Lian Yu was surprised. "It's almost winter, what's the use of making fans?"

  She grasped the letter tightly and said angrily, "Let you go then just go."

  On an autumn day, she took a bamboo stick and lightly scratched it, leaving a bloody mark on her hand. She let out a painful cry and quickly applied some ointment to the wound, complaining, "Even if you really want to do it yourself, you can still get someone else to help, why must..."

  "It's different," Zhang Yan said stubbornly. Suddenly she self-deprecatingly said, "Look at me, I'm useless, teaching others is all about routines. When it comes to doing it myself, I'm actually very clumsy."

  "How could you think of that?" Xiang'er's eyes sparkled like a spring brook, "You have such ingenious ideas, I admire you so much. There are many skilled craftsmen in this world, but few have as many clever thoughts as you do."

  Under the artisan's guidance, Zhang Yan carefully cut out a piece of high-quality silk gauze, wrapped it around the fan frame from both sides, and sewed it on with fine silk thread. When she held it up to the window and examined it, the stitches were so fine and even that they seemed to blend seamlessly into the fabric, while the sunlight shining through the silk cast a warm, golden glow.

  The worry was finally over, and the brush came in. Ink was ground and water was poured. With a smile, he asked, "Are you going to inscribe on the fan, my daughter?"

  "Ah." Zhang Yan nodded, picked up her brush and dipped it in ink. In an instant, the famous poem about a round fan appeared in her mind, so she wrote with her wrist suspended: Newly cracked Qi silk is pure, as clean as frost and snow. Made into a joyful reunion fan, round and round like bright moonlight.

  Just as I was about to continue writing, I suddenly remembered that Ban Jieyu wrote "The Round Fan Poem", using the round fan to express her grievances in the palace after being supplanted by the Zhao sisters. That's why there is "I always fear the arrival of autumn, cool breeze snatching away the scorching heat." Lamenting "Abandoned and discarded in the imperial harem, affection cut off halfway." What am I writing about again?

  "What's wrong with you, miss?" he asked in surprise, seeing her dazed expression.

  "I think I'll just paint a picture," Zhang Yan said, biting her finger.

  This way of repeating itself, shaking its head to dispel worries, even with a thousand changes and a hundred variations, it's impossible to guess her thoughts.

  Zhang Yan finished painting a clump of bamboo and was exhausted, lying on the desk.

  "Why is the young lady so particular about this fan?" Xie You asked casually as he put away his brush and ink.

  "Ah, this is what I wanted to give to Emperor Uncle."

  The inkstone rolled out of Xi Rou's hands, she turned back in shock, looking at the fan with a gaze that instantly carried a hint of reverence, her voice even stuttering slightly, "Miss is saying, this fan was given to His Majesty the Emperor?"

  "Really?" Zhang Yan looked at him with interest and smiled, "Don't you know that the Emperor is my uncle?"

  "I know." Jie Yun awkwardly said, "It's just that since I met the empress, she has always been in Xuanping, while the emperor is the Son of Heaven and lives in the imperial palace in Chang'an City, looking very majestic. It's really a bit hard to imagine."

  Zhang Yan burst out laughing.

  Carry the fan to the relay station and send it to Chang'an. After a month, Liu Ying's reply came from Chang'an.

  The young emperor expressed his delight at the gift of the silk fan in a most gratifying tone, and asked after his long-absent little niece, while sending over a large pile of gifts.

  Zhang Yan silently asked the heavens, why this mother and son pair's rewards to others were so uncreative, still being gold ingots, she wouldn't even want a golden house.

  The new year has begun, and we have entered a new imperial era.

  That day, she went to Master Zhu's residence to learn the zither. Suddenly outside the room, she heard Master Zhu scolding, "A Wu, your zither sound is too stiff, if you can add a bit of A Yan's liveliness, then your progress will be much greater."

  She was taken aback for a moment.

  "Miss, why don't you go in?" asked a strange voice beside her.

  Zhang Yan glared at her fiercely, then reluctantly entered the house and faced Sun Rou. Both of them felt a little awkward.

  After finishing the zither, Sun Rou smiled and pulled out a dark purple fruit. He handed it to Zhang Yan's face and said with a smile, "Today when I went out, I saw that the street vendors were already selling Fu Zi Guo, so I bought some and gave them to you to try, see if they taste good."

  It's indeed a water caltrop. Zhang Yan sighed in her heart, took the fruit, cut it open and put it into her mouth, smiling, "Indeed very sweet. Thank you, Ah Rou, for your trouble."

  Another month passed, and Mr. Zhu's eyebrows became increasingly furrowed. Just before they could pinch a mosquito to death, he finally called out to Zhang Yan, "These past few months, I've observed that your piano skills have gradually become more refined, but your heart remains stubbornly stuck in place. Have you not followed my instructions? Do you practice the piano for a full hour every day?"

  Zhang Yan knelt down in front of the desk and nodded her head, saying "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "I see that you, A Yan, have a natural talent for music that I have rarely seen in my life. If you can diligently practice and cultivate it, even if you may not become a master in this lifetime, you can still be like the great masters of the qin. You will be able to attain a deep understanding of the art of qin playing. How can you let laziness or trivial matters lead you astray from the right path? Don't waste your youth and wait until old age when it's too late to accomplish anything, only to regret it later."

  Zhang Yan took a deep breath, lifted her head and smiled, "What does the gentleman think is important business? What does he think are trivial matters?"

  Mr. Zhu was taken aback.

  "Sir said my piano has some spirituality, Ah Yan thinks that this may be because Ah Yan plays the piano not to seek anything, but from the heart. I want to get happiness from my piano sound, so I won't be restricted by the piano itself. If I lose this heart, then my piano sound is no different from Sun Wu's."

  "Besides, sir, I am different from you." She shook her head and said, "Sir has spent his whole life pursuing the way of the qin, thinking that the qin is the most important thing in the world. But Ah Yan values her loved ones more. I study books to understand reason, and when my loved ones are worried, I can share their concerns; I learn medicine to take care of them when they're ill. These things are not trivial to me. It's not that I don't love the qin, it's just that it cannot be the most important thing in my life. I'm not concerned with becoming a master of the qin, I just want to be able to play a decent tune for my family when they're feeling down, and lift their spirits."

  She stood up and bowed, "I'm afraid I've disappointed your expectations, sir."

  The spring breeze has turned the mountains and rivers of Xuanping green. On this day, Zhang Yan and Sun Wu made an appointment to take their younger brother out of the city to tread on the greenery.

  "Has Mr. Zhu had something happen recently?" Sun Wu said casually, "Look at his complexion, it seems like he's aged four or five years."

  "It's probably something at home." Now she has practiced the skill of lying with a straight face to perfection. Kneeling in the carriage, Zhang Yan rolled up the curtain and looked out at the mulberry trees by the side of the road, their new buds bursting forth, lush and green, greedily stretching out their branches, basking in the warm sunshine of early spring. A peasant woman wearing a deep-colored robe walked through the mulberry grove, carrying an old-fashioned backpack, using a silkworm hook to pick fresh leaves and put them into her backpack. The scene was full of vibrant life and beauty, but for some reason, a melody from her past life began to circulate in her mind, out of place with the surroundings.

  Zhang Yan unconsciously tapped the strings of the guqin with her hand.

  "What's wrong?" Sun Wu noticed her soul flying out of her body.

  "I don't know why," Zhang Yan sighed with a bitter smile, "but there's been a tune stuck in my head all along, not intentionally thinking about it, but it's just been there."

  "Oh?" Sun Xing had some interest, "What kind of tune?"

  "I'll hum a tune for you." She cleared her throat, "La la la la----" The meaningless humming followed a vague melody, which was as cool and refreshing as the deep autumn air. It was like withered yellow leaves carrying some frosty moisture, swirling down and sticking to people's faces under the trees.

  A lifetime of bleakness and desolation like this.

  "True beauty." Sun Wu was stunned, and sincerely admitted, "No wonder Mr. Zhu said I'm not as good as you, even if I can play the classic piano pieces flawlessly, I could never come up with such a wonderful melody like this."

  "Hmm," Zhang Yan hesitated for a moment, saying, "This wasn't something I came up with. Last night, I had a dream where someone in the dream was playing this tune. The melody was extraordinary, and I simply remembered it and passed it on."

  Sun Wu pulled up her hand, and the dimple on his left cheek appeared faintly. "As they say, there are thoughts in the day and dreams at night, why can't I have such a dream? Is this a melody?"

  "No," she shook her head, "it's a pipa."

  "Pipa?"

  "It is a stringed instrument with a straight handle, a round or pear-shaped sound box, held vertically and played in the arms, pushing forward is called 'pi', pulling back is called 'ba'."

  "Oh." Sun Wu blurted out. "It's Qin Hanzi after all."

  The name is a bit vulgar, Sun Wu's face couldn't help but flush slightly, and he asked, "Can you play the pipa?" The words were a bit awkward.

  "I know some."

  "But I won't be able to." Sun Rou frowned and said, "However, the guqin is the leader of all sounds, changing to play the guqin should also be possible, right?"

  "Probably."

  "That's good." Sun Wu grabbed her hand and pulled her back in the direction they came from, "Let's go back and try again."

  "Alas." Zhang Yan cried and laughed, "We just came out not long ago." However, looking at Sun Rou's appearance, he was completely deaf to it. He couldn't help but smile wryly, in terms of being infatuated with music, he was far inferior to Sun Rou.

  In the pavilion of the Hou Mansion's rear garden, Sun Ruo tuned his zither and sat up straight. "A Yan," he said, "hum that tune for me once more."

  Zhang Yan reluctantly hummed the tune again according to her intention. Sun Wu played along on the guqin, the sound intermittent, and suddenly shouted, "Stop for a moment. The last note of that sentence just now, should it be zhengyin or bianzheng?"

  Zhang Yan thought for a moment and said, "Change the omen."

  "Hmm." Sun Wu nodded and said, "I think it's better this way." As he spoke, he occasionally plucked the strings of his zither, easily playing through a piece, then put down his brush and rewrote the score. Holding the silk book that still smelled of ink, Sun Wu glanced at Zhang Yan with a hint of a smile and asked, "Yan, did your dream lover say what this score was called?"

  Zhang Yan looked up at the sky and smiled, "She said that the mountain wilds are rustic, what's the name of this place? Why not return to simplicity and truth, and just call it 'Qin Yu'?"

  "This name isn't bad," Sun Ruo said with a frown, "it's just too straightforward. A Yan, why don't you give it another name?"

  "Alright." Zhang nodded and paced, "I've listened to this melody, with a underlying tone of melancholy, it's like a mountain spring flowing from start to finish, why not just call it 'Melancholic Brook'?"

  " 'Worry and Sorrow', " Sun Wu savored for a moment, saying, "Very good."

  Zhang Yan was also infected, kneeling down and plucking the strings. She was more familiar with the score of "Worry" than Sun Wu, so she played it even more smoothly. In a trance, she poured her emotions into the piano, feeling that the world was vast and empty, with only one strand of worry flowing out from under her fingers. Nothing needed to be seen, nothing needed to be thought about, as long as the music continued, she had already immersed her heart in it.

  As soon as the music stopped, Cao Yu came back to her senses and called out in a low voice, "Madam Zhao."

  Zhang Yan turned around and looked back, under the artificial hill stood a woman in blue clothes, with two lines of clear tears on her face, dripping down in the wind.

  "Auntie." Zhang Yan shouted out loud.

  Zhao Ji suddenly startled, turned around and wanted to leave. She was originally standing sideways facing the pavilion, but now she had turned around, and the other half of her face was exposed in the sunlight without any cover. Sun Wu was shocked, let out a low cry, stretched out his hand and grabbed Zhang Yan's arm.

  That face that should have been peerlessly lovely had a long, hideous scar running from the middle of her eyebrow to the corner of her mouth.

  Zhao Ji's body paused for a moment, and her eyes revealed a hint of resentment.

  "Auntie," Zhang Yan walked over with a smile, "the weather is so good every day, you should also come out and take a walk. Staying cooped up in the house all the time will make you sick even if you're not ill."

  Zhao Ji was stunned for a moment, made a series of gestures, and finally drew a stroke with her finger, her eyes icy cold.

  "Our lady is just showing concern for the young mistress." The quick-witted maid beside her hastily spoke up to explain. "Please don't mind, my lady didn't mean to disturb you, she was far away and heard someone playing the zither, so she came over to take a look."

  Zhang Yan nodded and smiled, "Alright, you help Madam back."

  Looking from afar, Zhao Ji's long hair was pinned up with a simple jade hairpin, her back slender. Among Father's three concubines, it was this mute and rarely outgoing Zhao Ji who was the most charming and captivating. It's just a pity that "if only this Zhao Ji didn't have that scar on her face," Sun Wu sighed, "she would be a beauty."

  "Yes." Zhang Yan lowered her eyelids.

  "How did this scar on Zhao Ji's face come about?" Sun Wu asked curiously.

  "I rarely see her," Zhang Yan shook her head and turned to ask, "Does Nian know?"

  "This matter of Zhao Ji, our servants actually know something about it." Lian Yu said, "She's actually quite pitiful. She had a daughter once, but she died before she was even half a year old. The pain of losing her child also made Zhao Ji fall ill. Your Highness, that was when the Marquis had just succeeded to the throne of Zhao Wang and took pity on her, letting her go to the Zhao Wang's detached palace to clear her mind. But unexpectedly, while she was out for a spring outing, she encountered mountain bandits. However, Zhao Ji is a fierce-tempered person and used her hairpin to disfigure her own face. Your Highness was enraged and ordered the troops to thoroughly search all the mountains in the territory of Zhao Di. Unfortunately, Zhao Ji's appearance could not be restored. Also because of this matter, the princess deeply respects her integrity, and although she has been out of favor for many years, she has instructed the household staff to never treat her poorly."

  "That's indeed a respectable woman." Sun Wuji rose in respect.

  Zhang Yan smiled slightly, her slender fingers plucked the strings of the zither, and when she looked up, Zhao Ji's figure had already disappeared behind the artificial hill. The last fluttering blue ice-colored sleeve gently stuck to the stone wall and hung down.

  Moved by a melody to tears, only those with stories in their hearts can be so sentimental. And if not for that scar, Zhao Ji would truly be a very beautiful woman.

  It's just that the story has burned out, and all that's left is a lonely concubine living in seclusion in the Xuanping Marquis' estate with a heart as gray as ash.

  The beginning of the second volume, I used a two-line advance writing method. Respectively explaining the ending of Yu Yi and Zhang Yan's life in Xuanping. This chapter is Zhang Yan's penultimate chapter in Xuanping, until tomorrow when that chapter will integrate the two branch lines, then Zhang Yan will return to Chang'an.

  Because after returning to Chang'an, contradictions and things will come one after another, so during the declaration of peace, I try to make her days simple and happy. In my heart, this year's time in Xuanping is a process of Zhang Yan breaking out of her cocoon and becoming a butterfly. Most of the characters who appear on stage and the scenes that are cut off have deep meanings and foreshadowing.

  In the chapter "Qin Tiao", the round fan that Zhang Yan sent to Liu Ying is actually the same one that Ruyi mistakenly took in Chapter 75 "Di Zu". It's amusing to think of this fan as a token of their affection.

  But the prototype of the song played by Zhang Yan in this chapter is Lin Hai's "Pipa Language". The first time I heard this song was when I watched Xu Jinglei's "A Letter from an Unknown Woman". At the end of the film, Xu Jinglei, who plays the woman, walks out of the courtyard and meets an old acquaintance, and then smiles wistfully. Then this song starts to play, and the emotions match perfectly, and as I listened, I became more and more moved.

  So today's chapter is still quite substantial, let's continue to ask for pink tickets as usual.