Since Master Cai Yong had already given instructions, all that was left to do was wait.
For Fei Qian, Cai Manor was no longer unfamiliar. Having visited several times and now officially becoming a direct disciple, he could be considered half a member of the Cai household.
The steward of Cai Manor personally escorted Fei Qian to the side hall, carefully inquiring about his likes and dislikes before having some tea and snacks served. He then prepared to personally attend to Fei Qian.
Although, given Fei Qian's current status, it wouldn't be unusual for the steward to wait on him, Fei Qian, having navigated the cautious world of modern workplaces, immediately thanked the steward and insisted that he could manage on his own, sparing the steward the trouble.
Unable to refuse, the steward instructed a young maid to ensure Fei Qian was well taken care of before excusing himself to attend to other matters.
Fei Qian didn't particularly demand such attention to detail in social interactions; it was simply a habit carried over from his modern life. Respecting others was akin to respecting oneself, and it was always better to make friends than enemies.
For example, having the steward wait on him wouldn't be out of line, given his status as Cai Yong's direct disciple. However, Fei Qian currently held no official court position nor had any renowned scholarly works to his name. The steward's respect and attentiveness were merely an extension of his respect for Cai Yong, and thus, by association, Fei Qian received the same courtesy.
But if Fei Qian were to act arrogantly, constantly ordering people around and pointing out their faults, it might be tolerable once or twice, but doing so frequently would inevitably breed resentment and lead to unnecessary conflicts.
Whether ancient or modern, people are people. Aside from those forced into it, who would enjoy being around someone who constantly acts superior, always pointing out what's wrong and demanding this or that?
Thus, Fei Qian's habits, shaped by his modern workplace experiences, greatly impressed the steward of Cai Manor. The steward thought to himself that the master had indeed taken in a true gentleman, someone as magnanimous as his previous disciple, Gu Yong, and destined for great things.
As Fei Qian sat waiting, he grew bored and casually picked up a scroll to read. After all, now that he was Cai Yong's disciple, it wouldn't do to be caught unprepared if Cai Yong suddenly decided to test his knowledge. Reading more couldn't hurt.
As he read, Fei Qian suddenly noticed that the surroundings had grown much quieter. Not only were there no sounds of servants moving about or working, but even the faint whispers among them had ceased.
The entire Cai Manor had suddenly become serene and peaceful, with only the occasional street vendor's call drifting over the courtyard walls, making the manor feel even more secluded and profound.
Fei Qian raised an eyebrow in curiosity and was about to speak when he saw the young maid frantically gesturing for him to stay quiet—
At that moment, a zither note, as if from beyond the heavens, suddenly pierced the silence of Cai Manor—
At first, there were only a few faint, low notes, like the first spring rain, light and drifting, gently touching the skin and slowly seeping into the heart...
Then, more lively notes joined in, bouncing joyfully among the buildings and pavilions of Cai Manor. The melody was as clear as a mountain spring, or like blooming spring flowers. For a moment, Fei Qian felt as though he were standing in a field of blossoming flowers, surrounded by vibrant colors and fluttering butterflies, a scene full of life and joy...
But this cheerful melody didn't last long. Soon, a high-pitched note transformed the sunny scene into one of dark clouds and rolling thunder, as if a sudden downpour had drenched everything, leaving no place to hide...
The zither's tone gradually turned mournful, each note drawn out as if pulled reluctantly from the heart. A series of tremolos sent chills down the spine, soon replaced by rapid, urgent notes, like the clashing of swords and axes, striking both body and soul, causing deep, heart-wrenching pain...
After what felt like an eternity, the zither's sound gradually softened, the long, trailing notes like sighs, evoking the image of a flower field ravaged by a storm, with rain falling softly and petals scattered across the ground, a scene of utter desolation...
As the melody faded and the zither fell silent, Fei Qian suddenly felt something cool on his face. Reaching up, he realized he had been moved to tears and quickly wiped them away with his sleeve.
Embarrassed, Fei Qian glanced around and noticed that he was the first to regain his composure. The young maid beside him was still in a daze, tears streaming down her face...
Fei Qian couldn't help but sigh inwardly: Later generations hailed Cai Zhaoji (Cai Yan) as the greatest talented woman of the Han Dynasty, and indeed, there was no exaggeration. Her zither skills alone were unparalleled, so masterful that they could deeply move people without them even realizing it...
He then thought of how, historically, not long after this, Dong Zhuo would force the people of Luoyang to move to Chang'an. Cai Yong would be implicated in Dong Zhuo's death and meet an unfortunate end, leaving Cai Zhaoji alone in an unfamiliar Chang'an. She would be captured by southern barbarians and taken north, only to be ransomed by Cao Cao twelve years later...
"Does Heaven have eyes, yet not see me drifting alone? Do the gods have power, yet place me at the ends of the earth? I have not wronged Heaven, so why does Heaven pair me with such a fate? I have not wronged the gods, so why do the gods banish me to this desolate land?..." In what state of helpless sorrow did Cai Zhaoji write these words, each character filled with such grief that it makes one want to weep?
Thinking of this, Fei Qian felt a surge of emotion, as if something was stuck in his chest, demanding to be expressed. Without a second thought, he grabbed a brush and paper and wrote: "A thousand sails pass by the sunken ship; ten thousand trees bloom before the withered wood. Even the Yellow River has its clear days; how can a person not have their time of fortune?"
Only after writing did he realize that the two lines didn't quite match and likely didn't belong to the same poem. How had he managed to connect them?
Just as Fei Qian was about to revise or erase his writing, he heard someone outside calling that Cai Yong, the Imperial Secretary, had returned. The manor quickly became a flurry of activity as Cai Yong walked in, his face dark and stern. The servants all trembled, not daring to make a sound.
Cai Yong entered the side hall, saw Fei Qian, and without a word, gestured for him to follow before turning and heading toward his study.
Fei Qian quickly put down the brush and paper and followed Cai Yong, wondering what could have made the old man so angry. Could it be—?
As Fei Qian followed Cai Yong, the young maid in the side hall tilted her head and looked at the poem Fei Qian had written. She blinked, then quietly folded the paper and tucked it into her sleeve, thinking, "This was written by Young Master Fei after listening to our lady's zither. I'll take it to show her."
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A/N: I cobbled together two lines... After all, I haven't formally studied classical poetry... Sometimes I think that perhaps by overemphasizing "washing in the gutter," we've neglected these ancient poems and verses. In a way, maybe we've really been led astray... As a newbie who knows nothing.