TGWM Ch. 10

Chapter 10: Contention

Yun Yan sat on the stage, plucking the strings of her guqin with a gentle smile. The young noblemen in the audience unconsciously held their breath—not knowing whether it was the beauty of the music or the sight of the exquisite performer that left them utterly captivated.

The melody flowed through the pavilion. Shang Wu was a rough man who knew nothing of music, but merely admiring the beauty on stage made the trip worthwhile for him.

Unlike Shang Wu, Beichen Ji was not entirely ignorant, though his understanding was shallow at best. When the song ended, a young nobleman in the audience suddenly stood up and recited a crude poem in an attempt to impress the lady on stage.

Yun Yan maintained a soft, gentle smile and praised him warmly, saying, “Young Master, you are most talented.” This flattery instantly inflated the man’s pride, and he straightened his back with an air of arrogance. If he had a tail, it would surely be raised high toward the sky.

Beichen Ji let out a derisive snort. “Hmph! What utter nonsense! If not for Miss Yun Yan’s graciousness in sparing him embarrassment, he would have made a fool of himself. Yet he has no self-awareness!”

Lin Aoxue glanced at Beichen Ji, thinking to herself that while the man’s poem was indeed lacking, Young Master Ji was hardly any better. Between the two, it was hard to say who had the upper hand. How could he have the audacity to mock others?

Rolling her eyes, she chose not to voice her thoughts aloud.

Before long, Yun Yan began to play a second piece. However, the moment the melody started, Lin Aoxue stiffened, her gaze locking onto the performer. The music surged in her ears—clashing steel, galloping horses, the blood and fury of battle.

It was a war song. The melody was bold and impassioned, its rhythm fast and urgent. The sharp, resonant notes struck like blades of steel, raining down upon the audience in an overwhelming storm. Even Beichen Ji and Shang Wu, who were usually indifferent to music, were stunned into silence, eyes wide with shock.

Lin Aoxue was also frozen, but for reasons different from those of the others.

This music of clashing weapons and warhorses was one she had known since childhood—it had once been her favorite song.

Amidst the powerful and majestic melody, her mind drifted back to a distant memory: an ancient, stately residence with two stone lions guarding its entrance. The grand, dignified plaque bestowed by the Beichen Emperor bore golden characters that read: Nation’s Protector Grand General’s Residence.

In the spacious courtyard, her mother sat gracefully on the stone steps, playing the guqin. Though her demeanor was soft and gentle, her music was bold and unyielding, brimming with an indomitable spirit. Her father, wielding a golden spear, practiced his martial arts in rhythm with the melody, each movement fierce and commanding, like a dragon in motion.

It was a scene of elegance and strength—until the next moment, when raging flames consumed it.

She had rushed into the inferno, choking on the thick stench of blood and the nauseating odor of burning flesh. The searing heat distorted her vision as she stumbled over cold, lifeless bodies, desperately searching for her parents.

Above the main hall, the grand plaque—now engulfed in flames—collapsed before her, blocking her path. Sparks flew, and searing-hot fragments of wood landed on her face, burning into her flesh with a sizzling sound.

It had been the dead of winter, just before the New Year. A beggar, clad in rags, had frozen to death beside the general’s residence. She had escaped that night, exchanging her clothes for the beggar’s, then tossing the beggar’s corpse into the mansion, letting it burn alongside everything else.

That day, the entire capital was shaken. The event was recorded in the official annals of history.

The Nation’s Protector Grand General had been accused of treason. By secret decree, the emperor ordered the complete extermination of the household. All one hundred and eighty-two members of the residence—no more, no less—perished in the flames.

Suddenly, a second melody intruded upon the powerful tune. It was the same song Yun Yan was playing, yet this version carried an even more unyielding, bloodthirsty spirit—fierce, unrelenting, brimming with boundless fury and unstoppable momentum. Before the audience’s eyes, the music conjured a breathtaking vision: a vast army of warhorses galloping across the battlefield, unstoppable and magnificent.

Yun Yan was startled, but her hands did not falter as she played. However, her gaze lifted slightly in the direction of the other melody. A row of private rooms was obscured by bamboo curtains, preventing her from seeing who was behind them.

She was not the only one shaken. The many wealthy young men who had come to Yanyu Tower to listen to music were equally stunned. But none were more astonished than Beichen Ji and Shang Wu.

The one who had walked up to the guqin platform and, with an expressionless face, played such a grand and imposing melody—was none other than Lin Aoxue.

The two melodies intertwined like two armies clashing on the battlefield, tens of thousands of soldiers fighting amidst billowing banners and a sky filled with swirling yellow sand. The overwhelming power of the music sent chills down the listeners’ spines, as if they were truly there, witnessing the fierce battle unfold before them.

Lin Aoxue’s music carried both blood and tears, yet there was no sorrow or lament in it. Instead, her passionate and unyielding emotions were poured into every note. Even Beichen Ji and Shang Wu, who had experienced the life-and-death struggles of real battle, found their eyes welling with tears.

When the piece came to an end, a single warm teardrop fell onto the strings, producing a sharp, unexpected twang. The sound jolted Lin Aoxue from her memories. 

She raised a hand to press against her cold mask. Beneath it, the hidden, twisted scars seemed to burn once more.

Her wounds had long since healed, but the ones in her heart had festered, rotting away. The stench of decay seeped from those old, maggot-infested gashes, oozing with foul-smelling pus.

Silently, she wiped away the lingering tears at the corner of her eyes and feigned indifference as she returned to her seat.

Yueqin looked at Lin Aoxue with open astonishment. She had never imagined that someone with such a fierce and intimidating exterior could understand music—let alone play a piece that rivaled Yun Yan’s own performance.

Like the rest of the guests, Beichen Ji and Shang Wu were still caught in a daze, struggling to recover from the shock. However, the first to regain composure was Yun Yan on the high platform. Her gaze held a trace of contemplation as she withdrew her eyes from the upper floors. Then, she played a third piece. But Lin Aoxue was no longer in the mood to listen. 

When the music ended, Yun Yan stepped down from the stage. Beichen Ji seemed eager to linger, but Lin Aoxue rose to her feet, her expression cold and solemn.

“It’s time to go,” she said.

There was an undeniable authority in her voice, and Beichen Ji, intimidated by her presence, did not dare to argue. He exchanged a glance with Shang Wu before nodding meekly.

By the time Yun Yan had extricated herself from the throng of admirers and followed the impression left by the mysterious musician to the second floor, the private room was already empty.

She stopped a passing servant who was tidying up the room and asked gently, “Who was here earlier?”

It was not every day that the renowned Yun Yan of Yanyu Tower spoke to someone with such warmth. The servant straightened his back nervously and answered with utmost caution, “Replying to Miss Yun Yan, the guests who were here just now were three military officers.”

Yun Yan pondered his words. Soldiers and officers often frequented Yanyu Tower, so she could not determine the musician’s identity based on that alone.

Just then, Yueqin returned after seeing Lin Aoxue and the others off. Spotting Yun Yan standing at the door, she eagerly approached.

“Yun-jiejie!”

(T/N: 姐姐 (jiějiě) means “Older sister or an older female friend”; formal)

Before Yun Yan could speak, Yueqin excitedly recounted everything she had just witnessed, chattering like a bubbling stream. When she spoke of Lin Aoxue, her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm—completely different from the fearful and panicked expression she had worn just the day before.

So, it turned out to be Lin Aoxue.

The answer settled in Yun Yan’s heart, and somehow, it didn’t seem all that surprising. Perhaps, the moment the servant mentioned “three military officers,” that cold and solemn yet strangely awkward face had already flashed through her mind.

Her beautiful eyes flickered as she smiled playfully, watching Yueqin practically radiate with joy. Teasingly, she quipped, “Little girl, have you taken a liking to Young Master Lin?”

Yueqin’s secret thoughts were exposed in an instant, and her face turned a deep shade of red. Embarrassed and flustered, she nervously clutched the hem of her clothing, lips pressing into a pout—her expression no different from that of a shy newlywed bride.

But after a moment, as if something suddenly came to mind, the color drained from her face just as quickly. Her gaze dropped, and a trace of dejection clouded her expression.

Yun Yan noticed and asked with concern, “What’s wrong?”

Lowering her head, Yueqin bit her lip and murmured, “How could someone as extraordinary as Young Master Lin ever take notice of someone like me?” She recalled that night when Lin Aoxue had been drunk. While tending to her, Yueqin had attempted to lift her mask, only to be sharply reprimanded.

Lin Aoxue had visited Yanyu Tower several times, yet despite the many beautiful women in the establishment, she had never spared any of them a second glance. If there was anyone she had paid the slightest attention to, it would probably be Yun Yan. And if not for her responsibility to keep an eye on Beichen Ji, she likely wouldn’t have set foot in such a place at all.

Yueqin’s unspoken feelings were nothing more than admiration and wistful longing—an infatuation that was entirely one-sided.

Yun Yan hadn’t expected Yueqin to have thought so deeply about the matter. It seemed her teasing had actually hit the mark.

But Yueqin’s distress was not unwarranted. Lin Aoxue was clearly no ordinary person—highly skilled in martial arts and favored by the grand general. It was only a matter of time before she achieved fame and success. For someone like Yueqin, born into the world of courtesans, it was like reaching for the stars; beautiful to behold but forever out of reach.

And it wasn’t just Yueqin. Even she, Yun Yan, the top courtesan of Yanyu Tower—praised for both her beauty and intellect, adored by noble sons whose admiration stretched to the very streets—knew that none of them would ever truly risk everything to take a courtesan as their wife.

Because she, too, was a woman of the brothel.

Without the backing of a powerful force, if she were to catch the eye of some influential lord, the best outcome would be becoming a concubine, securing a stable life for the remainder of her years. But if luck wasn’t on her side, she could just as easily meet an untimely end, her body discarded without a second thought—left to rot in some forgotten alley, with no one to care.

So in this, Yun Yan did not know how to console Yueqin.

She didn’t want to extinguish a young woman’s pure and beautiful dream with talk of fate and social hierarchy. Yet at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to offer rebellious words of encouragement, urging her to fight against the odds.

She was far past the age of romantic illusions. And besides, she herself was still trapped in this mire.

Carefully choosing her words, she was about to offer some comfort when Yueqin suddenly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, there was already a small smile on her face.

Blinking, she said softly, “A man like Young Master Lin is bound to have a worthy match. I only hope that when he returns to Yanyu Tower, I can see him a few more times.”

Hearing this, Yun Yan felt both a tinge of sadness and helplessness. She reached out and patted Yueqin’s shoulder in reassurance. “I’ll speak to Madam Yu. If Young Master Lin returns, she’ll arrange for you to accompany him.”

Madam Yu was the matron of Yanyu Tower.

Hearing Yun Yan’s promise, Yueqin immediately grabbed her sleeve, thanking her over and over, her joy unmistakable.