A City Swept by Wind and Snow GL - Chapter 7
“Xiaoxue never eats vegetarian.”
From then on, Danmo moved into the middle building to take care of Jin Se’s room, while the little silver fox was cared for by Xue Qianxun. Winter had arrived, wrapping the imperial capital in day-after-day cold, yet despite the solitude and chill, Xue Qianxun persisted in living alone in Qiongyu Garden. Every day she was inseparable from the little silver fox Xiaoxue—sometimes playing the zither, sometimes painting—with Xiaoxue quietly staying by her side. Occasionally, Xue Qianxun would carry it to the Hidden Fragrance Pavilion behind Yingxue Pavilion to view the plum trees, though the branches were still bare.
Xue Qianxun had always teased Jin Se for enjoying the company of animals, but she never expected that one day she herself would grow so close to Xiaoxue, the two of them becoming such good companions. Yet there was one issue they could not reconcile: Xue Qianxun disliked meat, while Xiaoxue never abstained from it.
In recent days, neither Lord Zhuang nor Jin Se had come to Yingxue Pavilion, and no one pressured Xue Qianxun to appear, which delighted her. She could enjoy her freedom, unconcerned whether the seats at Xianyin Stage were full.
One night, Xue Qianxun was startled awake by a commotion outside her window. She turned and felt that Xiaoxue was missing. A bad feeling surged in her chest. Hastily dressing, she went outside, only to find disordered footprints but no figure. Tentatively, she called “Xiaoxue,” but there was no response. Anxiety rising, she followed the tracks, which led straight toward the West Building—the servants’ quarters, with Jin Se’s room at the top.
On her way, she finally came across Xiaoxue, lightly leaping toward her. The fox’s eyes sparkled as it happily jumped into Xue Qianxun’s arms.
“So you were just out causing trouble in the middle of the night,” Xue Qianxun whispered reproachfully, murmuring, “I was worried about your master.”
At that moment, she suddenly sensed someone breathing behind her. Turning quickly, she saw no one, and her heart mocked itself: she was getting increasingly paranoid—it was only the wind. Holding Xiaoxue, she returned to her room.
Yet, once inside, she saw in the candlelight that her chest was smeared with bl00d. Alarmed, she immediately checked Xiaoxue and found the little fox’s mouth and paws stained with bl00d, which it had licked. Xue Qianxun realized that this night’s outing was more than mere mischief, and she rushed back to the West Building.
This time, however, she ran straight into a figure in a black cloak, hood shadowing the face. The person pulled her behind a fake rock and whispered, “Qianxun… it’s me.”
Xue Qianxun exclaimed in a low voice, “Jin Se?”
Jin Se gestured for silence. “Why are you out so late? Go back!”
“No! I—”
“Don’t be afraid. Xiaoxue is here with you.”
“And you?”
“Don’t ask so many questions. Just go back and sleep peacefully.” She glanced outward, then back: “Don’t obey? Then I’ll carry you.” With that, she swept Xue Qianxun up into her arms. For a moment, Xue Qianxun felt Jin Se’s warmth and strength as they rose into the air, trees and snow retreating behind them. When she came to her senses, she was already lying in bed.
Startled, she looked at Jin Se, still hooded, and asked, “What happened?”
Jin Se smiled faintly. “Nothing.” Her voice carried the faint sound of hurried breathing.
“Nothing, yet you act all mysterious?”
“Hmm… bored tonight, so I thought I’d tease you a little.”
Xue Qianxun tried to sit up, but Jin Se gently pressed her down, whispering in her ear, “Sleep well,” then pointed to her acupoints.
Listening to Jin Se’s soft voice, Xue Qianxun felt her eyelids grow heavy. She relaxed her grip on Jin Se’s cloak and finally fell asleep.
The next day, she woke when the sun was already past its zenith. The events of the previous night felt like a dream. She checked Xiaoxue, whose fur was pure white again and whose mouth was clean. Her own outer clothing was spotless, and the snow outside showed no footprints.
Confused, she tapped her head. Could it really have been a dream? Yet Jin Se’s rapid, weak breathing and the warmth of her fevered hand were vivid in her memory, as if it had just happened.
Xue Qianxun wanted to ask Jin Se, but realized that if it were true, Jin Se had clearly tried to hide it, and asking would get her nowhere. So she decided not to pursue it, and spent the afternoon alone with Xiaoxue, investigating traces of the night.
As dusk fell, Xue Qianxun remembered she had to perform at Xianyin Stage. The event had been booked by Long Taojia, deputy escort captain of the Wei Yuan Escort Agency, a “major event.” Xue Qianxun knew she could no longer be willfully absent.
Carrying Xiaoxue, she entered the main hall. To her surprise, she heard the clatter of zither strings: Ruhan was performing.
Xue Qianxun had not recalled refusing to perform, and Jin Se had apparently privately arranged for Ruhan to play instead. She smiled faintly, wondering what Jin Se was up to, and sat quietly in a corner to watch.
Some guests noticed her, casting curious glances, but no one dared approach. At this moment, a prominent figure, Lord Zhuang He Qishu, was also in the hall. Xue Qianxun noticed him, but he seemed absorbed in the music, barely glancing at her. Unbothered, she poured herself a cup of tea and drank slowly.
Ruhan’s zither playing, while unremarkable to Xue Qianxun, had a liveliness and brightness she never had under her fingers. It was the innate vibrant tone of a youthful girl, simple, joyful, and passionate. Xue Qianxun had lost that sentiment years ago.
The audience—including Lord Zhuang—clearly enjoyed Ruhan’s performance. They had always assumed Ruhan was just pretty and courteous, unaware she could play with style and personality. Their admiration was tinged with surprise.
Suddenly, a voice from below called out: “Why the change?”
It was Zhao Si, the second son of General Zhenyuan. He shouted angrily, “Tonight was supposed to be Snow Qianxun’s performance! Why is it Ruhan instead?”
Jin Se, wearing a silver-white jacket, leaned over the railing of the upper level, looking down.
Zhao Si looked up. “I came for Xue Qianxun!”
Xue Qianxun set down her tea, amused by this impromptu drama.
Jin Se smirked at her. “Is Ruhan not playing well?”
Zhao Si sneered. “If it’s just skill, Ruhan is certainly on par with Xue Qianxun. But…”
Xue Qianxun silently thanked heaven she had put down her tea, not drinking it.
“But,” Jin Se interjected, “Long Taojia, the deputy escort captain who booked the hall, doesn’t mind. Why does Zhao care so much?”
“How could I compare myself to ordinary martial heroes?” Zhao continued, solemnly. “Skill aside, I love Xue Qianxun’s unique, icy temperament!” He pointed at her, smiling warmly.
Xue Qianxun helplessly turned her face aside.
Someone in the hall laughed, opening a folding fan and slowly waving it.
Zhao Si bowed slightly to the laughing figure: “Lord Zhuang, how amusing.”
Lord Zhuang nodded slightly. “Amusing.”
Zhao Si asked, “Why do you laugh?”
“I laugh because you don’t understand how to cherish women. Ruhan was immersed in playing and you interrupted her. Look at her embarrassed face.”
Zhao Si was surprised; Lord Zhuang ignored Xue Qianxun entirely, focusing on Ruhan’s feelings. She lowered her head shyly, clearly feeling guilty for a first-time performance.
Zhao Si felt some pity, then noticed Xue Qianxun sitting in the corner, drinking tea alone, and his passion for her reignited. “Lord Zhuang only worries about Ruhan, yet ignores Xue Qianxun’s position!” He pointed to her.
Xue Qianxun exhaled slowly, thinking she couldn’t even drink tea in peace.
Almost immediately, the situation escalated to both girls performing together—a suggestion, surprisingly, from Lord Zhuang.
Xue Qianxun ground her teeth in secret, glancing at Jin Se, who looked on cheerfully, completely carefree.
The audience loved the spectacle, erupting in cheers, applause, and catcalls.
Xue Qianxun sat beside Ruhan as a new zither was brought for her. Ruhan looked at her with a mix of fear and challenge. She had always thought she couldn’t surpass Xue Qianxun, but today, with Lord Zhuang’s support, she felt proud.
Xue Qianxun smiled faintly: “Which piece shall we play, Ruhan?”
Ruhan chose her best piece, “A Lovely Night”. Xue Qianxun agreed, adjusting to her tempo. The audience applauded wildly at the duet.
Zhao Si’s wish was fulfilled. He swayed, praising Xue Qianxun’s subtlety and Ruhan’s delicate fingers. Xue Qianxun ignored it, playing casually, feeling like a lazy chef who had thrown together a dish, surprisingly satisfying the patrons.
Xue Qianxun glanced at Lord Zhuang, who also watched her, but smiled insincerely. She turned her gaze away, meeting Zhao Si’s ardent eyes. Uncomfortable, she looked only at her fingers dancing across the strings.
The zither’s range is vast: seven types of scattered notes, ninety-one overtones, 147 techniques; right hand methods include support, thumb, swipe, lift, hook, lift, strike, pluck, roll, flick; left hand: chant, slide, wrap, inject, collide, advance, retreat, rise, and more. Its techniques are endless, conveying emotions and cosmic moods. Thus, a zither player is best suited for studying certain secret martial arts—puppet techniques, in particular.
Xue Qianxun resolved to make everyone present realize, once and for all: this is what a zither master is.