When the hunters and the Jiang family arrived back at the inn, the twelve bandits were still waiting for them outside, huddled together, their faces pale with fear. The entire group entered the inn, settling in to wait for nightfall, the air thick with anticipation. As darkness descended, the hauntingly familiar guzheng music resonated throughout the inn, its melancholic notes drifting through the silent corridors. The group walked into the open yard and saw a single candlelight flickering inside one of the guest rooms, a beacon in the darkness. They stood in the empty yard, their eyes fixed on the illuminated window, a silent vigil.
"Everyone stays inside the circle," Tian Xiang instructed, his voice firm. "I'm sorry, Brother Deming, so are you." He threw a talisman on the ground, and it quickly formed a white circle of light, shimmering softly around Deming, the twelve bandits, and the Jiang family. He looked at the people standing within the protective barrier, his gaze serious. "No matter what you hear or what happens, don't step out. Your safety depends on it."
The people standing in the magic circle nodded, their faces a mix of fear and determination, their eyes wide.
Lee Nianzu sat on the ground, opened a white bag, and carefully took out a guzheng, its strings gleaming in the faint light. He began to play, its melodies weaving into the night air, soft and inviting, while the protected group and the other five hunters stood behind him, their expressions solemn. Slowly, a young man began to materialize before them, a translucent figure, flying directly towards Lee Nianzu.
Guozhao Zhiqiang quickly sent a fire talisman at the apparition, causing it to recoil a few steps, a faint shimmer.
"Are you Yang Yusheng?" Lee Nianzu asked, his voice steady, filled with empathy.
The apparition became clearer and clearer, its features resolving. Standing before them was a young man of about seventeen years old, immaculately dressed in fine silks, facing Lee Nianzu, his eyes filled with a profound sadness.
"I heard your story from someone else," Lee Nianzu continued, his voice empathetic, gentle. "Want to share your story? Maybe this will help you move on, so you don't have to wander around this place anymore, trapped by your past."
Mu Yin, standing inside the protective circle, muttered, her voice hushed with awe and fear. "Hey... that spirit standing in front of us looks and dresses like the one sitting on the ground." She turned to look at her twelve people; some had fainted, their faces ashen, and some covered their eyes with their hands, trembling. Mu Yin kicked Miao Jing's shin angrily, her frustration boiling over. "So useless! You're all cowards!"
The spirit approached Lee Nianzu and sat down in front of him; its gaze fixed on the guzheng. The spirit reached out his hand, a translucent form, and gently placed it on Lee Nianzu's hand, a silent connection. The spirit nodded to Lee Nianzu and closed his eyes, preparing to communicate.
Mu Yin, who knew nothing about the Hunter World, whispered to Deming, her voice trembling. "Husband, what are they doing? What's happening?"
Deming turned to look at Mu Yin and shook his head, his own eyes wide with fascination. "He's communicating with the spirit, Lady Mu," Deming explained as calmly as possible, though his voice was a little hushed. "He's listening to its story."
Lee Nianzu closed his eyes, his face serene, and began to speak, his voice narrating a scene as if he were witnessing it, his words painting a vivid picture. "In a hot summer day, walking on the streets of Silver Peak. Jiang Jingsheng and Lao Xin..."
Lao Xin held an umbrella over the well-dressed Jiang Jingsheng, shielding him from the scorching sun. Behind them followed three young servants, fanning themselves. Jiang Jingsheng and Lao Xin walked happily side by side, their eyes scanning the street vendors, admiring the wares. As they passed, young maidens on the street openly stared at Jiang Jingsheng, captivated by his handsome appearance.
"Young master, it's been seven years since you left for Capital City," Lao Xin sighed, a nostalgic smile on his face. "There are more vendors than before. The city has grown."
Jiang Jingsheng smiled at Lao Xin, his eyes warm. "Seven years in Capital City is a long time, Lao Xin. I'm sorry, you have to endure hardship with me, away from home."
Lao Xin shook his head, his loyalty unwavering. "Young master, I don't find it difficult. Serving you is my pleasure." He smiled. "Oh... Master will be very happy to see you. He's missed you terribly."
Jiang Jingsheng smiled at Lao Xin, his heart swelling with anticipation. "I can't wait. Let's hurry, we may be in time for lunch at home."
As they approached a tavern, its windows were crowded with people, their faces pressed against the glass, and some even sat outside, listening intently.
"Lao Xin," Jiang Jingsheng wondered, his brow furrowed, "what's going on over there? Why are there so many people in such a small tavern?"
"I'm going to ask, young master," Lao Xin offered, handing the umbrella to Jiang Jingsheng.
"Go and ask why there are so many people in such a small tavern," Jiang Jingsheng urged, his curiosity piqued. "It must be something special."
Lao Xin walked into the tavern, returning about five minutes later, a surprised look on his face. "The people I talked to said that a very young, talented musician will come at noon to play music for the guests. He's supposedly brilliant."
"Really?" Jiang Jingsheng's eyes lit up with excitement, his interest immediately captured.
"Young master, are you interested?" Lao Xin inquired, sensing his master's enthusiasm.
"I'm hungry," Jiang Jingsheng declared, a playful glint in his eye. "Let's go there to eat. We can listen to the music while we dine."
"Aren't we going to eat at home, young master?" Lao Xin asked, a hint of concern.
"We will have dinner at home," Jiang Jingsheng replied. "We'll have lunch here. Come on, Lao Xin." He walked towards the tavern, eager.
Jiang Jingsheng and his party entered the tavern, which was already filled with many guests, their chatter loud. Lao Xin walked over to a man already sitting at the front, handing him a large gold ingot, a generous payment. The man readily accepted and stood up, vacating his prime spot. Lao Xin then quickly wiped the table and chairs clean. Jiang Jingsheng walked over and sat down; his gaze fixed on the empty stage.
After waiting for an hour, Yang Yusheng walked into the tavern with a guzheng on his back, its polished wood gleaming. The tavern owner quickly led him to the stage, bowing respectfully. Yang Yusheng placed the guzheng on the table and began to pluck its shiny metal strings, a soft, ethereal sound filling the air. In the entire tavern, except for the enchanting sound of his guzheng, there was no other sound. Everyone was captivated.
The sweet, melancholic melody of the guzheng touched Jiang Jingsheng's heart, stirring something deep within him. He looked at Yang Yusheng, who appeared to be about the same age as him, his features delicate. Sitting at a table in the front row, Jiang Jingsheng's gaze was captivated by Yang Yusheng's silky black hair that cascaded down to his waist, shimmering in the light. Yang Yusheng's slender fingers danced across the strings, soft as petals fluttering in the wind, creating a magical sound. From the moment the young musician entered the tavern, Jiang Jingsheng had been staring, completely mesmerized, unable to tear his eyes away.
After Yang Yusheng finished his music, he stood up, a ceramic bowl in his hand, and walked up and down the tavern, collecting donations. Some people gave him coins, some did not. Yang Yusheng approached Jiang Jingsheng. Lao Xin took out a small silver ingot and placed it into the bowl, a generous offering. He nodded and continued to walk around the tavern until he reached the front door and stepped out, disappearing from view.
Jiang Jingsheng stood up and quickly followed the young musician out the door, a desperate urge to speak to him.
"Brother, please wait a moment!" Jiang Jingsheng called out, his voice urgent, grabbing Yang Yusheng's arm. Yang Yusheng stopped and turned around, his eyes wide with surprise. He walked up to Yang Yusheng, his heart pounding. He smiled at Yang Yusheng. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice eager.
Yang Yusheng simply smiled and nodded at Jiang Jingsheng, a gentle, enigmatic gesture, then left without saying a word, disappearing into the crowd.
"What's your name?!" Jiang Jingsheng called out again, his voice filled with frustration, but the young, talented musician did not look back, continuing to walk away, a silent mystery.
"The young man is too rude, isn't he, young master?" Lao Xin remarked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Let's go home. He's not worth your time."
Early the next morning, Jiang Jingsheng was waiting in the tavern, eager for Yang Yusheng's return. At noon, Yang Yusheng arrived, played another enchanting song, and then walked out. Each time, he would ask Yang Yusheng's name, but Yang Yusheng would only smile and leave without a word, a silent, beautiful enigma. This went on for eight entire days, Jiang Jingsheng's patience tested but his fascination growing. On the ninth day, he decided to follow Yang Yusheng home, determined to uncover his secret.
Jiang Jingsheng followed the young musician down the street. The young musician gave all the money he earned in the tavern to beggars along the way, his generosity surprising. He followed Yang Yusheng to a remote place, where a small stream flowed beside a humble bamboo house, nestled among tall trees. The house was surrounded by vibrant yellow tulips, blooming brightly. He walked to the bamboo house and knocked on the door, his heart pounding. Yang Yusheng soon opened it, his eyes wide.
Jiang Jingsheng smiled at Yang Yusheng, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "Excuse me, I see you have been playing the guzheng for many days, but you never told me your name. Why the silence?" Yang Yusheng smiled back and gestured for Jiang Jingsheng to enter the house, a silent invitation. "Thanks," Jiang Jingsheng said, stepping inside, his curiosity piqued.
Jiang Jingsheng sat for a while, and Yang Yusheng brought them tea, his movements graceful. He glanced at Yang Yusheng, his gaze lingering. "What's your name?" he asked again, his voice soft.
Yang Yusheng smiled, walked to his desk, wrote his name on a piece of paper, and handed it to Jiang Jingsheng.
Jiang Jingsheng read, his eyes widening: "My name is Yang Yusheng, I am mute." He smiled at Yang Yusheng, a wave of understanding washing over him. He folded the piece of paper, and tucked it into his robe, close to his heart. "I'm sorry, Brother Yang, I didn't realize you couldn't speak. I thought you were just ignorant, or rude." He gave a silly smile and scratched his head with a paper fan, embarrassed.
From that day on, Jiang Jingsheng came to see Yang Yusheng every single day, his devotion unwavering. Yang Yusheng would write his answers in a book to communicate with Jiang Jingsheng, their bond growing through silent words. Even when heavy snow fell in winter, Jiang Jingsheng would still come to accompany Yang Yusheng, braving the elements. From summer to autumn. From autumn to winter. From winter to spring. Jiang Jingsheng spent every single day with Yang Yusheng, their love blossoming.
One spring day, the two of them were sitting by the lake, watching the water flow downstream, its gentle murmur a backdrop to their quiet happiness. "Yusheng," Jiang Jingsheng asked softly, his voice tender, "If I catch a fish tonight, will you cook for me? I'm hungry." Yang Yusheng smiled and nodded, his eyes bright.
Jiang Jingsheng looked at Yang Yusheng, his heart filled with affection. The wind blew, and Yang Yusheng's smooth hair danced with the breeze, like the shimmering light when the strings of a guzheng are lifted, ethereal and beautiful. He leaned closer to Yang Yusheng and gently kissed his right cheek.
The unexpected kiss startled Yang Yusheng, and he turned quickly, but in doing so, his lips accidentally touched Jiang Jingsheng's. Jiang Jingsheng gently pulled Yang Yusheng's head closer with his left hand and deepened the kiss, a tender, passionate embrace.
Jiang Jingsheng rested his forehead on Yang Yusheng's and whispered softly, his voice filled with profound love, "Yang Yusheng, I like you, I like you so much. You are my world."
That night, Jiang Jingsheng refused to go home, unable to tear himself away. After dinner, Jiang Jingsheng lay on the bed beside Yang Yusheng, their bodies close. Many words circled in his mind, words of love and devotion, but he couldn't bring himself to say a word to Yang Yusheng, overwhelmed by emotion.
It was late at night when he thought Yang Yusheng was asleep. He gently kissed Yang Yusheng's right temple and whispered into his right ear, his voice filled with tender longing, "Yusheng, I really like you. More than words can say."
Hearing Jiang Jingsheng tell him that he liked him, Yang Yusheng was filled with both happiness and sadness. He was glad someone truly liked him, and didn't care about his disability, his muteness. But soon, sadness overtook him. He knew that in this life, he would never be able to say "I like you" back to Jiang Jingsheng, to voice his own love. He opened his mouth and put all his strength into his vocal cords, trying desperately to speak, but the only sound that escaped was a raw, guttural "ah."
Jiang Jingsheng pulled Yang Yusheng into his arms, holding him tightly. "I heard you clearly, Yusheng," he said, a happy smile on his face, his eyes shining with love. He then kissed Yang Yusheng's lips, a profound, tender kiss. "I need no wealth; I desire no fame. I crave no more love; and yet, I fear an empty bed. Only you, Yusheng, can fill it."