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墨書 Inktalez
Xiao Zhongyan paused for a moment, then slowly nodded. "In theory, as the head of the family, Father should have the authority to access all secrets. However, in reality, the branches of the family operate independently and are wary of each other, making it difficult for even the head to grasp everything."
Nangong Shuang appeared thoughtful. This information complicated the case further but also provided new insights. If there were indeed two culprits, what connection did they have? Why did they act together?
"It's getting late; we should leave," Xiao Zhongyan reminded her, interrupting her thoughts.
Nangong Shuang then noticed that it had grown completely dark outside, with only faint moonlight filtering through the paper windows into the room.
"Indeed, we should go," she nodded and then thought of a question. "How will you return to Xiao Mansion?"
Xiao Zhongyan smiled slightly. "I disguised myself to come here, so it wouldn't be wise to return in a grand manner. I plan to escort you back to Guo Residence first and then decide what to do next."
Nangong Shuang hesitated. "Isn't that a bit inappropriate? Guo Residence is in the opposite direction from Xiao Mansion; it might delay your journey."
Xiao Zhongyan's expression was firm. "It's not safe for you to be alone outside; escorting you home is the right thing to do. Moreover, I have some thoughts regarding this case that I wish to discuss with you."
Seeing his resolute attitude, Nangong Shuang no longer insisted. After bidding farewell to Old Daoist, they left the temple together.
The night was deep, and there were few pedestrians on the streets; only a few lanterns swayed in the darkness like ghosts drifting by. Nangong Shuang and Xiao Zhongyan walked side by side, maintaining a respectful distance while each was lost in their own thoughts.
As they reached a street corner, a melodious sound of a guqin suddenly floated through the air. The music was enchanting and particularly clear in the quiet night.
"What beautiful music," Nangong Shuang couldn't help but stop and listen intently.
Xiao Zhongyan also paused to appreciate it, a look of admiration on his face. "Indeed remarkable. This guqin music is elegant and refined; the player must be an extraordinary person."
The music led them around the corner, where they saw an elderly man with white hair sitting by the roadside. In front of him lay an ancient guqin, and he gently plucked its strings, producing a clear and moving melody. The old man wore simple clothing but exuded an extraordinary aura that indicated he was no ordinary street performer.
"This is 'Plum Blossom Three Variations,'" Nangong Shuang whispered. "My father often mentioned this piece when I was young, saying it was an ancient tune rarely played in full by anyone."
Xiao Zhongyan looked at her in surprise. "You know this piece?"
Nangong Shuang smiled slightly but offered no explanation. The Nangong Family not only excelled in medicine but also had a deep understanding of music; her father had been skilled in playing various ancient tunes and often performed them for her. 'Plum Blossom Three Variations' was one of his favorites.
The old man seemed to notice their pause and looked up at them with a hint of surprise in his eyes before quickly regaining his composure and returning his focus to the guqin strings. The music rose and fell, sometimes soaring high and sometimes sinking low, evoking emotions that resonated deeply within.
"Your guqin skills are truly exceptional," Xiao Zhongyan praised as he took out a silver ingot from his pocket and respectfully placed it on the cloth before the old man.
The old man nodded slightly without speaking, but the music subtly changed, incorporating a joyful tone as if expressing gratitude.
Nangong Shuang also wanted to offer some silver but realized she had rushed out without enough money. As she hesitated, the music abruptly stopped.
The old man gently stroked the strings and slowly spoke, his voice echoing like an ancient well—deep and distant. "You two fated individuals, would you care to hear an old man's words?"
Nangong Shuang and Xiao Zhongyan exchanged glances and both nodded.
The old man's deep gaze wandered between the two, finally settling on the corner of the Plum Blossom Birthmark on Nangong Shuang's left wrist. "The flower on your wrist, my dear, bears quite a resemblance to the melody in my qin," he remarked.
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