The silence in Mo Yan’s chamber deepened once more, but this time, the quiet was betrayed by the frantic thunder of his own heartbeat. His heart was a wild thing, struggling to find its rhythm. His gaze remained fixed upon the Dragon Zither, filled with a silent, prayer-like devotion. With a fluid grace, he raised both hands, resting his fingers upon the ninety celestial strings. They trembled instantly a soft, rhythmic vibration, like the delicate down of a feather drifting upon the surface of a still lake.

  Looking at the parchment, Mo Yan began to weave those sacred words into a melody, as if every syllable were being adorned with a soul. His fingers moved with such effortless agility, like a master painter tracing ethereal patterns upon stagnant water. His lashes were heavy with unshed tears.

  Though Mo Yan’s hands were those of a warrior hardened and unyielding like stone there was an incredible tenderness in his touch as he grazed the divine strings. It was the same softness that belonged only to Yue Sui’s gentle soul. The melody felt like a memory from an ancient scripture, long forgotten by time. Slowly, from the forehead of the slumbering, majestic Serpentine Dragon carved upon the zither, a wisp of soft white light emerged. Like the fragrant smoke of incense rising lazily into the air, the melody drifted from the zither, floating through the window and ascending toward the heavens. Mo Yan remained motionless, lost in the act of playing.

  His touch was so light, so exquisite, as if a delicate petal were cradling a drop of morning dew without breaking its fragile form. He continued to play until the melody danced like smoke among the clouds, brushing against the wings of soaring birds, rising higher and higher until it finally dissolved into the infinite sky.

  The chamber was filled with a peace so profound it soothed the very marrow of the soul. Even Ai Yin had curled up against Mo Yan’s chest, lulled into a deep slumber. Mo Yan’s heart raced now, its beat synchronizing with the fading echoes of the music.

  However, this tranquil peace stood in stark contrast to the fire consuming another soul elsewhere. In the shadows, Duie held Su Nian pinned against the wall. With every passing second, Duie’s breath grew more ragged, more desperate. Su Nian could not only feel the heat of that breath but could hear the frantic pounding of Duie’s heart. Suddenly, Duie slammed his hand against the wall, his voice rising in a strained, sharp tone. His eyes searched Su Nian’s lowered lashes with burning intensity.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  "What was it?" he demanded. "What did you write in there? You have no idea what state I am in right now. Tell me... what did you write?"

  Su Nian’s brows furrowed at the sudden confrontation; he hadn't expected such desperation. With a firm shove, he pushed Duie back and turned toward the door, his voice laced with irritation.

  "If you are so desperate to know, go read the Ming Xi book. Stop pestering me. How many times must I repeat the same story? And why are you shouting at me for your own condition? If you cannot read the words, how can you feel them so intensely?"

  As Su Nian reached the door, the silence was shattered. Duie lunged forward, grabbing Su Nian by the wrist and pulling him down to the floor. Before Su Nian could react, Duie was over him, pinning his wrists down with a vice-like grip. Su Nian gasped, stunned to find himself trapped beneath Duie. He tried to struggle, but as his gaze flickered downward, his face flushed a deep crimson. Duie’s self-control had completely shattered; his physical state was beyond his command.

  Su Nian composed himself, forcing a cold, stern tone. "Du... it would be best if you let me return to my duties. As the Head Disciple, my absence is unseemly."

  But the words fell on deaf ears. Duie leaned closer, his face inches from Su Nian’s. "What was written there? Tell me now, Su."

  Su Nian looked at his wrists, feeling the raw strength of Duie’s grip. He took a long, shaky breath as tears began to shimmer in his eyes. He spoke the words that finally brought a semblance of calm to Duie’s storm.

  "Have you forgotten the promise, Du? If not, then know this it is about that very day. I read it in the Ming Xi book. 'Vixion taun du jo zhaio sko.' Those were the true, soul-stirring words of Master Xi Jayong, through which he revealed the depth of his feelings... feelings he held for his own stepbrother."

  Suddenly, the fire in Duie’s eyes died down. Su Nian looked at him with a small, sad smile, even as tears finally spilled over. "Duie... if you ever yell at me again, I will forget that promise. I didn't like that, Du."

  Duie’s expression softened instantly; it was as if his true self had finally returned from the brink of madness. He released Su Nian’s wrists and reached out, his touch now incredibly tender as he wiped the tears from Su Nian’s face. He seemed oblivious to the fact that his own eyes were brimming with water. Su Nian gave him a faint, fleeting smile. Reaching up, he grabbed the collar of Duie’s robes and pulled him down.

  The remaining distance vanished as their lips met. Su Nian’s breath hitched. Duie’s kiss was relentless, giving him no room to breathe, no moment of respite. An electric, jolting restlessness surged through Su Nian’s body, and more tears escaped his eyes. He gripped Duie’s robes with all his might, anchoring himself.

  The room was filled with a sudden, overwhelming warmth, their mingled breaths echoing in every corner like a feverish melody.