Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 38

38: Flute Playing at Emerald Light Pavilion Discovered

The more Yun Jingchu thought about it, the more worried she became. After washing up, she didn’t even wait to eat breakfast before summoning Wu Xiaoliu, a servant she had brought from Kaifeng.

The short, honest-looking man arrived promptly. Yun Jingchu, in the middle of eating a steamed bun, swallowed before looking up and instructing, “Go and gather as much information as you can about the Pu family—the ones Magistrate Jiufang sentenced to public humiliation.”

As she spoke, Yuanqi handed Wu Xiaoliu a money pouch. “Understood. I’ll get to it right away,” he replied with a smile before bowing and leaving.

By noon, Tian Qingyi returned to the rear courtyard, eager to see Yun Jingchu, only to learn from Qingyu that she had gone out after breakfast and wouldn’t be back for lunch.

Faced with her favorite dishes, Tian Qingyi found herself with little appetite for the first time. Before Yun Jingchu arrived, she had always eaten alone without issue. Now that they were together, eating by herself again left her feeling discontented.

After forcing down two bowls of rice, she had the food cleared away. Since arriving in this era, her appetite had grown significantly—three or four bowls per meal had become effortless. Even when her appetite waned, she could still manage two. Her past life as a model had ingrained a sense of discipline, and she had tried to control her intake, but the hunger pangs at night were unbearable. Skipping supper only led to overeating the next day, undoing any restraint while also harming her stomach.

Realizing she might never model Hanfu again, she stopped restricting herself, letting her appetite return to the original host’s level.

With Yun Jingchu absent, her plan for a post-meal chess game was dashed. Unable to nap immediately and not in the mood for reading, she suddenly felt like playing the flute and asked Qingyu to fetch it.

Meanwhile, Yun Jingchu, having spent the morning inquiring about the Pu family, had lunch at a tavern. The midday sun was too intense to continue, so she headed back. Before even reaching the courtyard, she heard an unfamiliar melody—sometimes tender and restrained, other times sorrowful and poignant, as if a lover were whispering endless longing.

Following the sound, she dismissed the servants who rushed to greet her with a wave of her hand. When she reached the Emerald Light Pavilion, she saw a familiar figure—wearing a jade hairpin and a white scholar’s robe, standing by the Rippling Flower Pond, playing a transverse flute.

Wei Shier, standing guard outside the pavilion, moved to greet her, but she gestured for silence. In the past, he might have hesitated, but now he obeyed without question.

Though Yun Jingchu wasn’t an exceptional musician, she had studied and listened to many pieces over the years. Yet she had never heard this one before—so distinctive that she would have remembered it.

By the time the song ended, Tian Qingyi’s eyes were moist with nostalgia for her family and homeland. In her past life, she had played many pieces, but only three remained engraved in her memory: the first song her teacher taught her (“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”), her teacher’s favorite (“Crossing Love”), and her personal favorite (“Thoughts Across Time and Space”).

She had played these hundreds, if not thousands, of times—so often that she could perform them effortlessly. The one she had just played was her favorite.

Fearing that playing would stir homesickness, she had only performed the other two during her journey. Xun Chang, who had accompanied her, loved them and even asked to learn. But when she tried to teach him, she realized ancient and modern musical notation differed, and without time to decode them, the lessons never materialized. They settled for taking turns playing for each other instead.

Since arriving in Huating, Tian Qingyi had been too busy with duties and studies to play often. This was her first midday performance.

Lost in reminiscence, she didn’t notice Yun Jingchu’s approach until a familiar voice spoke behind her:

“That melody was hauntingly beautiful—full of unspoken longing. It must be the work of a master, yet I’ve never heard of it before.” Yun Jingchu, still immersed in the music, couldn’t help but ask.

Startled, Tian Qingyi quickly composed herself before turning to see Yun Jingchu standing outside the pavilion in a pale yellow gauze dress, adorned with a gold-inlaid jade hairpin and earrings. Yuanqi fanned her while attendants held parasols. Qingyu and two maids lingered further back.

Tian Qingyi tried to deflect. “When did you get back? Have you eaten lunch?”

“Just now. I ate at a tavern. You haven’t answered my question.” Yun Jingchu stepped into the pavilion, determined to get an explanation. Yuanqi and Qingyu followed, while the others remained outside.

Noticing Tian Qingyi’s slightly reddened eyes—evidence of deep emotion while playing—Yun Jingchu wondered who had inspired such a feeling. Her intuition suggested Tian Qingyi might have composed it herself, yet her knowledge said otherwise. She needed clarity.

During her lessons in household management with sister-in-law Li Yan, they often shared private conversations. Even when paying respects to Fan Zhuzhu, the woman would engage her in small talk. Initially reserved, Yun Jingchu had gradually probed for information about Jiufang Xiyan.

For instance, before their marriage, Jiufang Xiyan had never touched a flute, let alone shown interest. Yet their conversation at the music shop had been earnest—clearly, the fondness was genuine.

Compiling and verifying details, she noticed stark differences in Jiufang Xiyan’s behavior before and after marriage—from speech to tastes. When she cautiously tested Fan Zhuzhu’s reactions, everyone except the dismissive Jiufang Qiyu attributed the changes to maturity after marriage.

Some people transformed after major events—she herself had after her mother’s death. Jiufang Xiyan, burdened as a woman forced into marriage and nearly exposed, had every reason to change.

But while preferences and temperament could shift, skills didn’t materialize out of nowhere. As Yun Jingchu’s gaze grew more penetrating, Tian Qingyi hurriedly explained:

“It wasn’t composed by a master. Xun Chang and I came up with it during our journey to pass the time—though he did most of the work. I just contributed ideas. Even my chess skills are from him. Xun Chang and I are the same age; we traveled to our posts together. He’s the magistrate of Haiyan County, accompanied by his clerk, Shang Yan. I mentioned them before—remember?”

In Kaifeng, as nominal spouses with an agreement, they rarely shared details. Only after Yun Jingchu warmed up to her did their exchanges increase. Before leaving, when Yun Jingchu asked about her travel companions, she had given a general overview.

Yun Jingchu recalled—Xun Chang had ranked higher than Jiufang Xiyan in the exams. A Hangzhou native from a well-off family, his flute-playing and chess skills made the explanation plausible.

“Music reflects the heart. That piece overflowed with longing—certainly not for me, since I’d only been gone a morning.” Yun Jingchu’s tone turned self-deprecating, her mood souring. They were together now, yet Tian Qingyi was pining for someone else? How fickle! She turned to leave, her entourage swiftly adjusting parasols and fans.

Watching her go, Tian Qingyi—unable to tell the truth—breathed a silent sigh of relief. Thankfully, she had forewarned Xun Chang, so Yun Jingchu’s inquiries wouldn’t expose her. Handing the flute to Qingyu, she hurried after Yun Jingchu.

“I was just missing home and mother. Not anyone else. Don’t overthink it.”

Initially, Tian Qingyi hadn’t wanted to involve Xun Chang. But Yun Jingchu’s impending visit had forced her hand. Jiufang Xin and Fan Zhuzhu would at most ask casually; a simple answer would suffice. But Yun Jingchu’s sharp mind and persistence might unravel inconsistencies, so after much deliberation, she had enlisted Xun Chang’s help.

Fortunately, Xun Chang—decent at both chess and flute—had agreed despite her flimsy pretext. Given their long journey together, crediting him as her teacher was believable.

Yun Jingchu’s anger dissolved. She never missed “home”—not her status-obsessed father nor the petty Yuan Shi. But she did sometimes yearn for her mother. She understood that ache.

For someone like Jiufang Xiyan, raised with maternal love and suddenly separated from family, homesickness was natural. She had misjudged.

Since Fan Zhuzhu’s birthday approached, she suggested, “Why don’t we prepare gifts for your mother and send them to Kaifeng? It would make her happy.”

“Good idea. We can go shopping the day after tomorrow—it’s my day off.” Tian Qingyi seized the opportunity. Yun Jingchu’s reminder was timely; she had nearly forgotten.

In this filial piety-obsessed era, birthdays weren’t as simple as a call or digital red packet. Gifts were mandatory; if they were home, a banquet and formal rites would be expected. Previously, Fan Zhuzhu had been denied such honors. Now, neglecting this would shame them both.

Attendants like Wei Shier and Yuanqi were accustomed to their closeness. The near-argument had been unusual. Only Qingyu seemed unsettled but stayed silent, quietly holding the flute as she trailed behind.

Back in their room, they rested briefly. Tian Qingyi woke up sweating, careful not to disturb Yun Jingchu. Noticing her furrowed brow and glistening forehead, she gently dabbed the moisture away with a handkerchief before fanning her until she relaxed.

Slipping out, she found Yuanqi dozing and Qingyu deep in thought. Qingyu nudged Yuanqi awake, then moved to prepare washing supplies while Yuanqi hurried to fan Yun Jingchu.

As summer’s peak heat arrived, Tian Qingyi—who had endured it alone before—now refused to let Yun Jingchu suffer. Before heading to the Central Harmony Hall, she instructed Qingyu to find an affordable ice supplier for a long-term contract.

Qingyu accepted eagerly. In Kaifeng, such tasks were beneath her. She had previously suggested buying ice, but Tian Qingyi refused. Now, just days after Yun Jingchu’s arrival, the magistrate had changed her mind. If this wasn’t Yun Jingchu’s influence, she’d eat her hat!

By the time Tian Qingyi arrived, Zhang Sancheng was already there, scribbling at his desk. He stood to bow, which she returned before settling into her own work.