Второстепенная женская героиня невинна

Глава 9

When Madam Yun saw that I was covered in alcohol and staggering as I walked, and that Youhua and Yun Yiyang had to help me back to Yun Manor, she quickly took a towel, wet it with cool water, and wiped my face. As she did so, she said with heartache, "Oh, you child, how could you drink so much?"

I felt incredibly dizzy, then suddenly felt a chill on my forehead. I managed to clear my head a little, and reached out to grasp Madam Yun's hand as she wiped my skin. I murmured, "Aunt Yun...you said...you said...uh..." I opened my blurry eyes and said haltingly, "You said...do I look like a girl...?"

Seeing me staring at her with wide eyes and an expectant look on my face, Madam Yun was both angry and amused. She said, "You've drunk quite a lot today. How can a girl drink so much? What are you if not a girl? Are you a man or something?"

"No...no, that's not it!" I waved my hand forcefully, but I used too much force and almost fell off the bamboo chair to the ground. "That...Su Da! I...I even took off my veil and let him see...that bastard...still said I was a man!...That's too much!...Isn't that saying I...saying I'm...neither male nor female?"

Madam Yun's expression changed drastically upon hearing this: "Ah...didn't you say your identity couldn't be discovered? Now...what should we do now?"

"It's nothing..." I felt completely weak and powerless, so I leaned gently against Madam Yun's chest and whispered, "He didn't realize... I'm a woman..."

I lay fully clothed on my bed, covered with a gold-threaded brocade quilt. It was late autumn, and I had drunk over a dozen cups of strong liquor. Although the air outside was bone-chillingly cold, my body felt incredibly hot, as if I were hugging a ball of fire. I tossed and turned in bed, trying to sleep but unable to find a restful one. I tried to remove the corset from my chest, but the heat persisted. My mind was a jumbled mess, and in my hazy state, it seemed as if everything was on my mind…

A wisp of mist had risen in the courtyard at some unknown time.

Autumn is a season prone to fog.

The wisps of mist, like the softest strands of a young girl's hair, drifted gently in the night breeze, seemingly carrying the fragrance of stream water and bamboo leaves. They drifted softly into the crack of the door, and a few strands brushed against my face, feeling incredibly cool and comfortable.

I lay on the bed with my eyes closed, quietly listening to the gentle babbling of the stream outside the courtyard...

No! This is not the sound of a babbling brook.

It's the sound of a flute.

The melodious, gentle flute music, leisurely and graceful, clear and moving, almost blended with the sound of the stream. The stream's sound carried the flute's clarity, and the flute's sound borrowed the stream's elegance, seemingly intertwined, washing away the dust from the ears, making one momentarily lose track of where they were... Suddenly, the flute music changed, becoming low and lingering, like weeping and lamenting, like a beautiful woman singing softly, like a traveler longing for home. Slowly, the flute music rose again, this time crisp and cheerful, like a spring breeze, welcoming distant guests and calling out to good friends, truly moving the listener.

Is this a dream?

If it wasn't a dream, why would I hear a melody that can only be heard in dreams?

Without realizing it, I slowly stood up, pushed open the door, and walked step by step into the courtyard. The white mist immediately and gently enveloped my black clothes.

Did I hear it wrong, or am I dreaming, hearing the sound of a flute coming from the sky?

I looked around, feeling as if I were walking on clouds. Ahead lay a bamboo grove, and the flute music seemed to emanate from within it. I looked up—

A man in a blue robe stood on a bamboo branch that was at least three zhang tall, playing a bamboo flute. A gentle breeze made the hem of his blue robe flutter, and his black hair flew in the air. The night wind gently swayed the bamboo branch, and he swayed back and forth in the wind with the bamboo branch, like a feather, but the flute music never stopped.

I looked up, my eyes meeting the man's. In this dreamlike night, my voice became incredibly soft: "Who...are you...standing so high..."

The flute music stopped abruptly, and the man in the blue robe landed in the courtyard.

He didn't "jump" down; he "floated" down.

The man in the blue robe drifted down from the bamboo branch like a leaf in the wind, landing in front of me. He slowly approached, revealing a gentle and serene smile:

"...What, is she a half-drunk young girl..." He finally walked up to me, reached out his finger and gently lifted my chin, "Her cheeks are red...but she's very beautiful."

Is this a dream?

I strained to look up, trying to see the man's face clearly, but all I could see were his eyes—dark and incredibly deep, as bright and profound as the most distant night sky.

I stared blankly, but unexpectedly his fingers touched my face. I let out a soft gasp, stumbled, and fell straight into the arms of the man in the blue robe.

The next moment, I felt myself being held in his arms, a full embrace. He carried me to the bamboo grove, casually found a place to sit, and let me lean on his shoulder. His voice was deep and gentle, and I heard it in a hazy, indistinct way, as if mixed with wisps of mist.

"You're drunk..."

My eyes were half-open, and I could faintly smell the bamboo scent emanating from the man in the blue robe. His embrace seemed to have a reassuring power, slightly reducing the heat coursing through my body. I mumbled in a daze:

"Nonsense! I...I'm not drunk! How...how do you know I'm a woman?..."

It sounded as if the man in the blue robe chuckled in her ear: "Only a fool would think you're a man."

With my eyes closed, I couldn't help but chuckle softly: "Yes! Yes... I'm a girl..." I turned over and whispered, "Your flute playing... is so beautiful... I want your flute..." I reached out to grab the bamboo flute from the man in the blue robe, but it seemed I had grasped nothing.

Suddenly, I felt something brush against my cheek, and a gentle voice whispered in my ear:

"I'll give it to you then."

I lay in bed, feeling too lazy to move.

I never imagined I'd drink so much yesterday, and get this drunk for the first time ever! I vaguely remember being brought back by Yun Yiyang and Youhua, but the rest is a blur. Half of it is forgotten, and the other half is just a blur.

The ancients said that alcohol can cloud judgment, and they were absolutely right. I gave a wry smile. I was so embarrassed last night. I might be laughed at by that kid Yun Yiyang!

I looked out the window; the sun was already high in the sky, its rays streaming directly into the room. I comfortably rolled over, clutching the blanket. I'd actually spent the entire night fully clothed and under the covers. It still felt a little strange.

The flute music and the person playing it in my dream last night felt so real. The person seemed otherworldly, and the flute music didn't sound like human music.

It was truly like a fleeting spring dream, leaving no trace. I smiled softly; could this be considered my first spring dream in over twenty years?

I rolled over again, my hand moving towards the edge of the bed—

The moment I pressed that button, my face turned deathly pale.

I raised my hand, and in it was a bright green bamboo flute, carved from fresh bamboo.

Chapter Seven: But there is order, not age.

But there is no such thing as early or late, and the most difficult thing to manage is the balance between warmth and cold.

Shang Shaozhang is an assassin, Xia Yanliang is a master healer.

Shang Shaozhang committed murder, while Xia Yanliang saved him.

Shang Shaozhang is the number one assassin in the world. It is said that no one can escape his Autumn Water Blade.

If you become his prey, then you should hate your parents for giving birth to you.