Chapter Twenty-Nine: Enchanting Melody

“Princess Chun, since you are so deeply cherished by Prince Chun, you must be quite extraordinary. Why don’t you play a piece for us as well?” The King of Dongling gazed at the calm woman before him, unable to resist making things difficult for her.

A trace of helplessness flashed in Zhan Yan’s eyes. She truly wished for nothing more than to keep a low profile and avoid drawing attention to herself. Yet if she failed to perform well today, it would bring shame upon her country—something she would never allow. She had always been a patriotic soul; during her five years studying abroad in her previous life, not once had she forgotten to uphold her homeland’s honor.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Zhan Yan slowly approached the zither and sat down gracefully. She began to play, her fingers dancing gently over the strings as her sweet voice rose in song. She infused her voice with a touch of inner strength, ensuring every person in the great hall could hear her clearly.

The Beauty of Home

The most beautiful is the water of my homeland
Morning sunlight glimmers
Lotus flowers slumber on the lake
Golden and silver pearls, strung in rows
The moon sinks toward the lake

The beauty of home
Most beloved is my homeland’s water
Young men rest by the shore
The willow trees sway, drunk on the music of the zither
Sisters busy themselves washing clothes
Their laughter rings so bright and clear

The beauty of home, the beauty of home
Most beautiful is the gentle water of my homeland
A breeze whispers along the banks
Swallows drift leisurely across the sky
Travelers far from home, hurry back soon

The beauty of home
Most beautiful are the people of my homeland
Every day they sing
Every year they rejoice

A land shapes its people and their love
The roots grow deep within the heart
The beauty of home, the beauty of home
Most beautiful is the gentle water of my homeland
A breeze whispers along the banks
Swallows drift leisurely across the sky
Travelers far from home, hurry back soon
The beauty of home, the beauty of home
Most beautiful is the gentle water of my homeland
A breeze whispers along the banks
Swallows drift leisurely across the sky
Travelers far from home, hurry back soon

In her previous life, Zhan Yan had been gifted—a prodigy, especially when it came to music. In this life, too, she had continued her study of the musical arts, her skill with the zither now reaching new heights. This exquisite song, played by her hands, was more enchanting than ever. Combined with her naturally sweet voice and the unfamiliar melody that no one here had ever heard, she instantly outshone Princess Biyou.

When Zhan Yan finished, the golden hall remained silent, everyone reluctant to return from the spell of such beautiful music. Only after a long pause did thunderous applause erupt. Zhongli Yu gazed at his beloved wife in a daze, wondering how many more surprises she held in store for him.

“Excellent, excellent! Prince Chun indeed has a discerning eye. Who would have thought Princess Chun would be so talented? This is splendid.” The King of Dongling smiled, surprised by his own stroke of luck—this woman had brought him honor instead of embarrassment, and he could not have been more pleased.

Princess Biyou’s face was pale. Never had she imagined that the little-known Gu Wuyou would possess such brilliant skill with the zither. The glory she had enjoyed moments before was snatched away in an instant, and bitterness filled her heart.

Yang Rui looked at Zhan Yan with a deep, complex gaze filled with regret, sorrow, and longing—emotions all tangled together. A woman such as this, unforgettable at first sight, became only more captivating the more one came to know her.

“What is the name of this piece? I am most fond of it,” asked the King of Dongling.

“Your Majesty, this song is called ‘The Beauty of Home.’ Only under your wise and benevolent rule could our land enjoy such peace and prosperity. Only those who live in such times can truly feel the beauty of their homeland,” Zhan Yan replied softly. Indeed, only in eras without war could people be truly happy. She hoped Dongling and Xiyuan would remain allies, for if conflict ever returned, it would be the common folk who suffered most.

Those present were deeply moved by her words. They struck a chord in Yang Rui’s heart as well. He vowed silently that, if ever he became King of Xiyuan, he would govern well and shield his people from the ravages of war.

“Good, very good! I, too, hope the people of Dongling can enjoy such peace and come to cherish the beauty of their homeland,” the King of Dongling declared joyfully.

“Crown Prince of Xiyuan, shall we begin negotiations to renew our peace treaty tomorrow?” the King of Dongling inquired.

“Gladly,” Yang Rui replied with sincerity.

By the time they left the palace, it was nearly midnight. Zhongli Yu held Zhan Yan’s hand as they reached the carriage, then swept her up and set her inside. Once they were seated, he pulled her tightly into his embrace.

“Yan’er, I truly wish I could hide you away. How could you let so many people see how wonderful you are?” Zhongli Yu grumbled, his tone sulky. Seeing King Jin’s fiery gaze fixed on Zhan Yan had made him furious—he would have liked nothing more than to gouge out that man’s eyes. And the Crown Prince of Xiyuan had looked at her as if he’d found a priceless treasure; Zhongli Yu wished he could send him flying back to Xiyuan with a single kick.

“And you attract admirers wherever you go,” Zhan Yan retorted, her voice tinged with jealousy. “Princess Biyou is so beautiful—why not take her for yourself?”

“I only need you, Yan’er. In this lifetime and the next, you alone,” Zhongli Yu replied, holding her even more tightly.

Zhan Yan began to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks in great drops. It was the second time she had wept since coming to this world—the first had been the day she was born, when her mother died. Today, she cried from being deeply moved, grateful that fate had brought this man into her life. She remembered how, before the emperor and all the officials, he had declared, “In this life, I will have no other wife but her.” How could she not be moved?

“Yan’er, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Zhongli Yu panicked, utterly at a loss, his heart aching so badly he could hardly breathe. He had never seen her cry, and found her tears more painful than being cut by a blade.

Zhan Yan paid no heed, simply letting the tears fall. This sort of happiness was something she didn’t mind weeping over. Unable to bear it any longer, Zhongli Yu cupped her face and kissed her, not stopping until she was breathless and had forgotten her tears.

“Yan’er, don’t cry. It hurts right here.” His voice was husky as he took her small hand and pressed it to his chest.

She gave him a reproachful look. “I’m crying because I’m so moved—can’t you let me have a few more tears? You really know how to ruin the mood.”

Zhongli Yu was at a loss, both amused and exasperated. How could he be the one ruining the mood when her tears had frightened him so much? Yet seeing her so lively and lovely, his heart melted completely. “So, why are you so moved?”

“Because you said I would be your only wife in this life,” she replied softly.

“I’ve only ever loved you, Yan’er. Of course I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

“And what about our daughter—will you love her too?”

“I will.”

“But you said you would only love me.”

“But she’s our daughter.”

“Isn’t our daughter a woman too?”

“Then I won’t love her, if you say so.”

“Why wouldn’t you love the daughter I give you?”

“…”

From the carriage came the sound of a woman’s joyful laughter, ringing out along the road and drifting far into the night. Even the coachman, Qingxian, grinned widely. It seemed the Prince Chun’s residence would no longer be a lonely place.