Chapter 64

Amidst the misty rain, we met, our hearts entwined.

The Broken Bridge still stands, but my heart has turned to mist and smoke.

Holding my head, I crouched beside him, softly singing the new song I had composed, and then transcribed it note by note:

I linger alone, missing you at the edge of the sky.

Turning back, I see the young man under the umbrella.

No one remembers that past.

Time has worn away the sorrow.

If remembering you is a sign of strength,

I wish to hold onto this moment.

No hope, no disappointment,

Waiting for the end of time.

The song "Farewell at the Broken Bridge" became a classic accompaniment to the local drama "The White Snake's Gratitude," which I helped popularize.

Needless to say, this was another legacy left by a time traveler, so even if the lyrics were a bit straightforward, it didn't matter much. In another era, so-called clear and simple singing had already been a part of popular culture for many years.

After finishing the song, the man holding his head crouched beside me had a dazed look in his eyes, clearly captivated by the lyrics and melody. This was the sentimentality of young lovers, easily lost in dreams.

My new identity is that of a guest, or a scholar-guest, relying on daily flattery and entertainment to earn my meals.

Recalling the scene of my initial meeting, it was at a place called Half Plum Garden. The local governor, Xin Zhou, was a middle-aged man with a fine beard.

During the collective meeting, although he was not one to smile easily, he gave off a warm and welcoming aura. Compared to the weathered and rugged officials in the north, this governor of Jiangnan had a refined and elegant presence, making a good first impression.

Although he only spoke a few words to me directly:

"Actually, it doesn't matter if you are from the south."

"You will be well-treated here, and with kindness, you will naturally feel at home."

"I have the confidence and magnanimity to accommodate you."

Well, I already understood that everything about me had been thoroughly revealed by someone like Bo Fu.

"I have a mixed background, but I am not particularly skilled in any one area."

"My only strength is in composing lyrics and singing, and traveling the world to visit famous sites, writing a travelogue to pass down to future generations, which would be enough for me."

At that moment, I felt like Xu Xiake, my eyes filled with longing.

"Everything else is just a hobby. So..."

I bowed sincerely.

"I really don't deserve such generous treatment."

When I said this, the expressions of those around me became somewhat strange and ridiculous, but I wasn't sure if they were laughing at me or themselves. Even the governor was momentarily speechless, but then he resumed his usual demeanor and continued talking.

Regardless, I became a guest at Half Plum Garden, though only temporarily. I was always thinking about leaving.

Although the governor seemed to have a good attitude, and Jiangning was a pleasant place to live, I had my own foundation in the south. Moreover, if the imperial warrant from Luoyang ever reached here, my situation would become even more dangerous.

While the southern warlords mostly ignored Luoyang's orders, sometimes not even bothering with formalities, the private rumors about the treasure of Liang Gong were enough to get me killed several times over.

I couldn't rely on someone else's temporary kindness and moral底线. The only place that truly didn't care about such things was probably the Southern Dynasty.

According to my new plan, I could only display some minor talents in daily life, enough to make them slightly disappointed but not to the point of losing face, gradually relaxing their vigilance and attention. Then, we would find an opportunity to leave.

Suddenly, there was some commotion outside the door. I frowned in annoyance, but then some people came in, grabbed me, and dragged me away. They were other guests I had just met.

"Youde, why are you still here?"

"Come with me quickly."

"Let's go together."

"Let's go together."

The others shouted.

I was dragged along, unable to resist, to the shore of Mochou Lake. The water was surrounded by several piers, and there were fewer flower boats, but more spectators on the shore. Even a long platform had been built for distinguished guests, and only those with substantial means or from courtesan houses remained.

On a stage formed by several large boats, a beautifully dressed woman stood, slender and graceful, with delicate skin and willow-like eyebrows. She waved her sleeves and danced, singing:

Welcome to the Stone City, follow me to the garden gate.

Drunk on the mountains and rivers, and then on the people, I'll keep you company until the third watch.

Old stories flow eastward, the moon shines on the bridge, how many times?

After you leave, how will you ask? I'll build a hut and play the flute until dawn.

Then a chorus joined in:

How many springs have passed outside the Stone City?

Even at night, on the lake, we ask each other.

The green of Changzhou Garden, which door does it reach?

Which cloud tower belongs to the nobles?

The green terraces of the Six Dynasties have turned to dust.

Only the cold remains in the nine gates.

One dynasty, one landscape, one minister.

One garden, one sound.

Then she sang again:

The clear wind of the garden blows away the light powder.

Beside the winding stream, the mountain house, what regrets does the small pavilion have?

The fragrance of medicine in the garden, I drink a cup to intoxicate myself.

The red wall houses twenty-three thousand books, read to repay your kindness.

The chorus joined in:

The sunlight and clear shadows reveal the rainbow.

Enjoy the vast green expanse, riding the wind.

Admire the moon at the Canglang Pavilion, laugh at the old fisherman.

Lanxue and plum forests are all in the painting.

Clouds and dragons are connected in the sky.

The sound of rain and wind comes from all sides.

With whom will I sit?

She sang again:

The distant bells of Hanshan, the wild snow leaves no trace.

If you ask where to go, the river lanterns light the bridge and maples.

The beauty of the Shantang River, the plum rain divides the dragon.

The reeds form a boat, wishing you well, but we don't send you off.

The chorus joined in:

The stage still holds the beautiful performers.

But they have become graves.

Meeting in the garden, we are pleasantly surprised.

After the song, we fear it was a dream.

Holding a candle, we talk about old stories.

After parting, we exchange a few words.

We no longer see the nobles, only you.

Next year in the Stone City.

After the song, the gentle sound lingered, and then a wave of applause erupted from the officials and civilians by the water. Even I was captivated. The originally male-voiced song, when sung by a woman, had a different, melancholic and moving quality.

Originally, it was a modern internet-famous song in the series "Suzhou City," which I had adapted to "Stone City." I had it posted as the largest and most exquisite advertisement, and unexpectedly, it entered the top three at the flower boat meeting. Although it lost to the first two songs, it was still a dark horse in Chapter 11.

"Youde, you are now famous, who doesn't know you?"

"Flower houses and courtesan houses will send invitations for your lyrics and songs."

Familiar and unfamiliar faces came to congratulate me. It seemed that "Lin Youde" from the governor's residence had become a local celebrity. This made me both amused and troubled. Was this an unintended consequence?

I had planned to use this as a pretext to leave, citing reasons like gathering material, but this result made it much harder and riskier to escape. After all, fame had effectively tied me here.

In my original plan, the key to survival in this chaotic era was strength. Art and literature were just embellishments, enough to make people underestimate my role and value, thus relaxing their attention and vigilance.

Then I could stay in and prepare under the guise of creation, or explore the terrain under the pretext of gathering material. Now, things were complicated.

In comparison,

I received a large sum of money and gifts, and several well-known flower houses promised to entertain me, allowing me to visit their top courtesans, discuss life and ideals, interests, and even the mysteries of human physiology, or stay overnight in their chambers, which seemed trivial.

Regardless of my thoughts,

In the midst of the noisy celebration, the beautifully dressed singer came to thank us. I recognized her as Su Su, who had accompanied me before. Then a group of people noisily celebrated, boarding a specially provided flower boat.

Su Su was half-pushed, half-pulled to sit beside me, and the drinking began. It was a wild and chaotic feast, lasting from noon to evening. Then Han Liangchen brought more people, announcing a victory from afar. It was said that the Jiangning army had launched a surprise attack on Mount Bowang and the Gu Shu River, defeating the Jiangxi Circuit's Xuanzhou Military Governor's forces, killing or capturing most of the 30,000 troops. They then captured several key towns along the river and advanced to the gates of Xuanzhou.

Using this victory as a reason to celebrate, more people joined in, and the drinking continued from evening to night. I eventually passed out from the alcohol.

When I woke up again, it was a quiet midnight. The sound of oars and the gentle rocking of the boat cabin made my mouth dry and numb. I desperately wanted water, but the hangover made it hard to get up.

When the lights were lit, a soft body supported me, offering a porcelain cup of sweet honey water, which restored some of my strength. I thanked her and saw Su Su's beautiful face.

Looking around, I realized I was in her room, with the bedding and curtains scented with incense.

"Please send me back to Half Plum Garden."

Seeing her hopeful yet hesitant expression, I said:

"Alright."

She bowed her head and called the boatman to send me back. She didn't say another word, but when I rowed away, I saw her standing on the deck under the moonlight.

Because of the flower boat meeting, the city had lifted the curfew. Along the way, I saw strings of lanterns swaying through the streets and alleys, or passing by on the waterways, as people continued their revelry or rushed to the next banquet.

Soon, the dedicated dock of Half Plum Garden appeared before me, but I felt a strange sense of unease. When I stepped onto the wet stone steps, I realized that the servants who should have been waiting were nowhere to be seen.

I had to light a lantern and slowly walk along the familiar path. The sparse moonlight filtered through the trees, casting a peaceful glow on the pebbled path.

Then I smelled something odd in the air, and recognized it as a faint血腥味. My heart raced, and I blew out the lantern, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. I then walked quietly, using the shadows of the trees for cover.

Then, behind a tree, I saw a horrifying scene: over twenty bodies were piled up on the slope by the road, all covered in blood and wounds, their eyes wide open or faces twisted, as if they had been ambushed and killed one by one.

Recognizing their clothing, I realized they were the people who often accompanied Han Liangchen and frequented Half Plum Garden, all killed and left here.

Had I been possessed by a fake child or a braid-tailed middle schooler?

The page turns, and the advertisement begins.

The page turns, and the advertisement ends.