Chapter 7: The Stringless Zither

“What a blockhead you are.”

In the practice room of the Music Division, the elderly instructor responsible for teaching the guqin glared at Su Yue, his beard bristling in exasperation.

Su Yue’s trembling hands rested on the strings, looking less like she was about to play and more as if she were presenting two chicken claws for the chopping block.

Unable to endure the sight any longer, the old instructor produced an iron ruler and struck Su Yue’s hands with all his might. There was a loud clang, but not a single mark appeared on the back of Su Yue’s hands, while the iron ruler snapped in two.

Instructor: …

Su Yue: …

“Master Gu, perhaps you’d like to try a spiritual instrument next time? Ordinary iron won’t hurt me,” Su Yue said sheepishly, glancing at the broken ruler.

“Hmph, the ruler isn’t meant for actual punishment, just for warning. But you—without even the most basic mastery of the guqin—how could you hope to catch up in a short time to those masters from noble families who’ve practiced since childhood? Go tell your supervisor, Manager Xiao, to assign someone else,” Master Gu said earnestly.

Su Yue thought, I’d gladly swap out, but the system won’t let me. Of all things, Yan Qitang had to excel in the guqin.

“Master Gu, the task has already been set. It’s not easy for me to change now. Do you have any shortcuts or quick ways to learn?” Su Yue asked, her tone ingratiating and voice low.

“There’s no such thing as a shortcut in any craft. Whether cultivation or music, don’t insult me with such notions.” Master Gu flung his sleeve and stormed off in anger.

Su Yue sat down on the floor, her face a picture of misery. If Master Gu wouldn’t work, perhaps someone else would? No need to cling to one tree till it’s dead.

So Su Yue left the Yan estate and went into Longsheng City, where the estate was located, in search of a patient teacher willing to instruct her.

But first, she needed to buy a guqin.

Su Yue went to the city’s largest music shop and wept silently inside when she saw the cheapest instrument.

Though merely a maid, Su Yue received a monthly wage, and since starting her training, her pay had multiplied. Two months’ wages amounted to forty-five taels of silver—a handsome sum anywhere else. But here, in Longsheng City, where cultivators and mortals coexisted, silver’s value was much diminished.

The cheapest guqin in the shop cost ninety taels—an astronomical price compared to other cities.

Just as Su Yue was at her wits’ end, she spotted a little girl about her age standing at the shop’s entrance, clutching something, arguing with a shop assistant.

“…This is not some worthless junk! It’s my father’s most treasured keepsake. Were it not to buy medicine for a friend, I’d never sell this guqin,” declared the girl, her hair in two neat buns, dressed in a deep-blue coarse robe, clutching her bundle tightly as she spoke loudly.

“You say it’s a treasure, but there aren’t even any strings—what use is just a block of wood?” the assistant scoffed in reply.

“But… but when Father played it, there were strings! I don’t know why they suddenly disappeared…” the girl said, aggrieved, her eyes reddening.

“All right, maybe I’m just blind to such treasures. Go try another shop if you like.” With that, the assistant ignored her and turned back inside.

Having overheard, Su Yue was now interested in buying it. With the body of the guqin, she could always find someone to string it.

“Little sister, how much are you asking for your guqin?” Su Yue called out without hesitation.

“You want to buy it, sister? I won’t sell it cheap—forty taels, not a coin less,” the girl replied, her reddened eyes serious.

Su Yue smiled. “Forty taels? Here, I’ll take it.” She produced forty taels and pressed them into the girl’s hands.

The girl counted the ten-tael ingots and nodded. “All here. Thank you.”

With that, she handed over the guqin.

Su Yue unwrapped the bundle on the spot, revealing a lustrous black guqin face, carved with strange patterns that looked suspiciously like an array.

“I’ll just get it restrung, and it’ll be good as new,” Su Yue said, running her hand over the instrument.

“This is a spiritual instrument—there were never any strings…”

A clear male voice sounded at her ear. Su Yue looked up to see a pair of fair, slender hands reaching over her head to touch the guqin she’d just bought.

Turning, she saw a young gentleman in a wide-sleeved cyan robe. What caught the eye first were his gentle, bright eyes and the faintly smiling lips tinged with red. His black hair was tidily bound with a jade ring, the rest falling neatly down his back.

Su Yue’s immediate reaction: This was someone of wealth.

He was handsome, no denying it—and the little girl who’d just sold the guqin was already staring, transfixed.

Standing so close, Su Yue could clearly see the pattern woven into his robe—a fine brocade of celestial spider silk in shades of blue, with bamboo motifs formed not by embroidery, but by weaving threads of varying depth and color into the fabric itself.

“Are you a servant of the Yan family?” the gentleman asked as Su Yue was mentally estimating the robe’s worth.

“Yes,” she replied.

In Longsheng City, the Yan estate’s livery was well-known. Earlier, Su Yue had been browsing the shop without buying, and the owner hadn’t ejected her simply because she wore the Yan livery.

“You have both good eyes and luck. Were it not that this spiritual instrument dislikes frequent changes of owner, I’d have tried to buy it from you myself,” the gentleman said, gently stroking the guqin. At his touch, though the instrument had no strings, it let out an ear-piercing note that startled Su Yue.

The gentleman in blue smiled. “What a fiery spirit. Go ahead—try it yourself,” he said, gesturing towards the guqin.

Su Yue hesitated, but now realized she’d bought something special. At his encouragement, she reached out and touched the guqin. To her astonishment, strings and pegs appeared where before there had been nothing. Three strings glowed—one green, one yellow, one blue. The remaining two were bone-white, looking more like slender bones than strings.

“Earth, water, and wood spiritual roots, hmm? If you had all five, the guqin would be fully lit. But you must have other, even greater talents,” the gentleman in blue said, pointing at the bone-white strings.

Su Yue followed his gesture and impulsively plucked one of the bone-white strings.

A clear, ringing note sounded—and suddenly, the entire music shop collapsed with a crash.

Inside, the owner carried his assistant out, both staring in horror at the ruins of their shop.

“What just happened?” the assistant gasped, looking at the neighboring shops, which were untouched. He stared, bewildered, at their own wrecked storefront.

The owner ignored him, his gaze fixed on the guqin in Su Yue’s hands. “The Thread-Linked Guqin? But it was never this powerful before. Alas, it’s already changed hands,” he said in anguish.

The assistant looked at the instrument—once dismissed as worthless—and realized too late what a rare treasure he’d let slip.

“But why did nothing happen when I or that little girl touched it?” the assistant wondered aloud.

“The Thread-Linked Guqin is the most temperamental instrument in the cultivation world. It dislikes single spiritual roots. If I’m not mistaken, that girl had only the wood root. As for you, you’re a mortal and didn’t value the guqin, so naturally, it wouldn’t choose you,” explained the gentleman in blue.

“Bo Ya and Ziqi—true kindred spirits are rare. This buyer has both the right talent and the eye to pay a high price for what others see as junk. This is fate at work. I can only hope the new owner brings out the guqin’s true power,” the shop owner lamented.

The others all felt a mix of awe and regret at Su Yue’s purchase.

Only Su Yue was left confused. She’d paid a high price not out of discernment, but because the shop’s prices were so outrageous. It turned out the ninety-tael guqin might not fetch even forty-five taels elsewhere.

Su Yue silently cursed the extortionate prices in Longsheng City.