Chapter Sixty-Two: The Fairy of Melodious Strings

In the five-story Peony Pavilion, the White Horse Gentleman strode straight to a seat on the third floor, facing west, while the Gentleman Qi led Zhang He up to the top floor, settling at a fragrant altar—arguably the finest spot among the VIP seats. This made the White Horse Gentleman gnash his teeth in envy.

Each month, Peony Pavilion hosted a famed musical performance, with the celebrated courtesan, the Fairy of Melody, opening her chamber to display her artistry. Renowned throughout Ezhou for her peerless divine melodies, she was hailed as the foremost musician in Ezhou. Her playing enchanted nobles and literati alike, leaving them utterly entranced, with lingering notes that seemed to echo for days.

Of course, this was merely the opinion of NPCs. The players themselves did not come to hear her famous tunes, but rather because the place was frequented by the elite. The real motive was to show their faces, to prove themselves as people of note. After all, whether in the world of “Dynasty” or in reality, high society existed. Mingling among the upper echelons, listening to music was but a pretext; forging connections and gathering information was the true pursuit.

Thus, at this time each month, Peony Pavilion became a gathering of celebrities and dignitaries, with VIP seats more precious than gold and nearly impossible to obtain. For ordinary folk, simply entering Peony Pavilion was a feat; securing a prime VIP seat was a challenge beyond measure.

It was clear the White Horse Gentleman feared Gentleman Qi. The difference in their seats and floors spoke volumes about their reputation and power. Yet, by some stroke of fate, Zhang He had managed to attach himself to Gentleman Qi and now sat boldly across from him.

The White Horse Gentleman could only seethe in silence.

“Would you prefer tea or wine, sir?” Gentleman Qi addressed Zhang He with courtesy.

But Zhang He, unfamiliar with such courtesy, replied bluntly, “Wine. I drink wine. The stronger, the better—give me burning knife.”

Burning knife was a rough spirit, usually drunk in the wilds by uncouth men. For Zhang He to request it in this luxurious, refined setting was a testament to his unique character.

Gentleman Qi, instead of frowning, could not help but laugh.

Seeing his smile, Zhang He asked, “Does Gentleman Qi find it improper for me to drink burning knife here?”

Gentleman Qi responded serenely, “Wine is purer than water, and so it is revered in rituals to ancestors and deities. There is never anything improper or disrespectful in drinking wine, anywhere, anytime. Moreover, you are bold and unrestrained—qualities I admire all the more.”

The wine soon arrived. Gentleman Qi sipped from his cup, then spoke slowly, “Do you know why I introduced you here?”

Zhang He smiled faintly, knowing that in this world, love and hatred never come without reason.

Gentleman Qi gazed downstairs, his thoughts drifting afar. “It is because the words you spoke earlier reminded me so much of an old friend.”

“Oh?” Zhang He asked, curious. “What words?”

Gentleman Qi pronounced each word deliberately, “Princes and nobles—are they born so?”

“That’s merely an ancient proverb,” Zhang He replied with a gentle smile.

Gentleman Qi murmured, “But that saying was my friend’s favorite. Hearing you recite it, I felt as if my friend had returned before my eyes.”

Zhang He asked, “And what became of Gentleman Qi’s friend?”

“Gone, long gone,” Gentleman Qi sighed deeply. “My friend has ridden the yellow crane away; this place is empty but for the Yellow Crane Tower. The crane departed, never to return, and for a thousand years, white clouds drift in vain…”

Seeing his sorrowful expression, Zhang He did not press further. The world of “Dynasty” might be virtual, but there was no shortage of people like Gentleman Qi, who were deeply immersed.

Zhang He said, “I’ve drunk your wine. My name is Might Conquers All.”

Gentleman Qi looked up. “A fine name. Not only does Brother Might live up to it, but his forthright nature is admirable. I would be honored to be your friend.”

Zhang He could not help but smile. Gentleman Qi’s flowery manner of speech showed how deeply he was invested in the role, but that was hardly unusual. With games these days, you find all kinds.

As Zhang He and Gentleman Qi conversed, the lively Peony Pavilion suddenly fell silent. Even the beautifully dressed attendants serving tea and wine withdrew, as a figure appeared in the central hall’s waterside pavilion.

One woman, one zither, one incense burner.

Her graceful silhouette drifted, the ancient zither exuding elegance, sandalwood incense curling around her. At a glance, the Fairy of Melody seemed otherworldly, her presence immense. Coupled with her peerless beauty, for a moment, nobles above and below felt their breath catch.

She stepped onto the pavilion’s bridge and, with hands extended, offered a respectful greeting to all sides. “Honored guests, your presence fills me with humility and deep gratitude.”

Indeed, tonight’s attendees were all prominent figures of Ezhou—except, perhaps, for Zhang He.

Her voice was as soft and melodious as a yellow oriole emerging from water, pleasing to the ear. VIPs from all five floors responded in thunderous accord, exclaiming their great fortune, expressing humility, and praising her modesty.

An elderly man in plain clothes, nearest the bridge on the first floor, spoke, “Miss Melody, you are too kind. I heard of Ezhou’s divine music long ago in the capital. The Peony Pavilion hides celestial melodies, and your reputation echoes across the Central Plains. To be here today is a blessing beyond compare.”

The Fairy of Melody replied respectfully, “Master Huang, you manage affairs for the nation and its people. That you grace us with your presence tonight is an unparalleled honor for me.”

Zhang He watched in wonder, whispering, “Who is that man?”

Gentleman Qi smiled, “He is Huang Da Lei, Minister of Rites in the current dynasty, a top-ranked official.”

Damn, Zhang He drew a sharp breath. This was a high-level NPC from the imperial court, not someone the average wanderer dared provoke. No wonder the Peony Pavilion was so prestigious.

In truth, Zhang He did not know that not only was the Peony Pavilion influential, but the Fairy of Melody’s status was even more extraordinary. Not every wealthy official could become her guest. Only those with true talent or renown in the martial world would she deign to converse with.

“I am but a rough man,” said a burly fellow in brown leather, his arms bare, “but when Miss Melody’s boat passed through Hankou last time, I ordered my men to let her through. To enter Peony Pavilion and hear celestial music is honor enough, so there’s no need for further courtesy.”

Gentleman Qi explained, “He is the chief of the Thirty-six Waterways of the Yangtze, known as Divine Arrow Xi Liang Xu.”

Zhang He nodded; he knew of the Thirty-six Waterways—the overlords of the river’s upper and middle reaches. Sometimes even the imperial court had to solicit their help.

After greeting several eminent guests, the Fairy of Melody raised her head and bowed slightly toward Gentleman Qi on the fifth floor in a gesture of respect.

Gentleman Qi merely smiled and raised his cup, acknowledging her.

Suddenly, the Fairy of Melody turned to Zhang He, “And how should I address this gentleman?”

Zhang He froze, surprised. He was hardly a notable figure—could the Fairy of Melody have mistaken him for someone else?

In fact, she had not. In her view, Zhang He’s entire body radiated a faint black glow—a sign that his chivalry and evil values were out of balance. In the eyes of NPCs, he was a dangerous person, though not yet a notorious villain or murderer.

The Peony Pavilion might be full of famous guests, but none were true criminals.

At this moment, all eyes focused on Zhang He, with envy, suspicion, and curiosity swirling. But Zhang He answered calmly, “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t know. Better not to say.”

His reply caused a stir throughout the hall. The Fairy of Melody only spoke to major figures; for her to address Zhang He, and for him to answer thus, left the dignitaries shocked. Who was this unfamiliar face? Judging by his tone, he was no ordinary person—so lofty that he would not even disclose his name.

The Fairy of Melody was a little disappointed, but she did not press further. She trusted Gentleman Qi, believing that anyone who could sit with him would never be a villain.

At this moment, the White Horse Gentleman on the third floor finally stood and clasped his hands, “Miss Melody, your music is unrivaled. It is our great fortune to hear your celestial tunes.”

His words were ornate and proper, but in essence, he was merely introducing himself, hoping to be noticed by the luminaries.

Unfortunately, the Fairy of Melody paid him no mind, returning straight to the center of the pavilion and her ancient zither.

The White Horse Gentleman’s pale face flushed crimson, his hands awkwardly clasped in midair. Fortunately, most in attendance were not frivolous, so few paid attention to his embarrassment.

But Zhang He laughed—a wicked, mocking laugh so sharp that anyone seeing it would feel the urge to strike him.

Naturally, the White Horse Gentleman noticed, and rage burned within him, hot enough to set the Peony Pavilion aflame. “You’ve got nerve, kid. The Fairy of Melody actually greeted you, but barely acknowledged me. Just wait—I’ll expose your true nature before the night is through.”

But for now, he could not act, for the Fairy of Melody’s slender fingers were already poised on the zither strings. The hall fell silent once more, as the performance was about to begin.