My Senior Sister Says She Will Marry No One But Me - Chapter 38.2

Du Yunge hadn’t intended anything else, but her striking beauty made people treat her every word as divine command. Regardless of gender, human nature harbors an instinctive tenderness toward beautiful things upon seeing something or someone both lovely and fragile, one can’t help but offer care. Thus, the girls of Tian Zaishui immediately pledged their loyalty in unison:

“Please rest assured, Sect Master! If this person intends any harm toward you, we would rather be shattered to pieces than fail to protect you with our lives!”

Du Yunge was taken aback by their fervor and only after a long pause did she speak softly, “That wasn’t my meaning, I just thought she looked very familiar.”

Especially that head of glossy, raven-black hair, so beautiful it almost seemed unreal.

She nodded and ordered, “Since I happen to have some free time, let her come in and sing a tune for me.”

Who would dare disobey the Sect Master’s command? Immediately, a girl standing nearer to the window hurried over to the Qinhuai Courtesan, whispered a few words to her, and the courtesan, dressed in crimson robes, turned and followed her through the gates of Tian Zaishui. Only when she turned around did Du Yunge see clearly what she was holding in her arms:

It was a pipa.

A sudden thought struck Du Yunge, and she asked, “On the night I first arrived, the one singing ‘Southern Country’ in the streets was it this newly elected courtesan?”

“Exactly,” the girls of Tian Zaishui promptly replied. “They say her looks aren’t outstanding at best average, nowhere near your stunning, nation-toppling beauty, Sect Master but her singing is truly exquisite.”

“To be able to hear someone singing outside amidst such chaos truly worthy of our Miaoyin Sect Master!”

As though a moment’s delay in answering Du Yunge would cost them her favor.

Du Yunge thought to herself that she finally understood how an emperor surrounded by three thousand beauties must feel. Anyone else might have felt a subtle sense of accomplishment, but she was too honest, feeling utterly unworthy of such high praise. Inwardly uneasy, a blush spread across her cheeks. To the girls of Tian Zaishui, however, this scene only reinforced their belief in their Sect Master’s humility so beautiful and gentle, unfathomably powerful, exceptionally clever, nearly the epitome of human perfection, and now blushing from their sincere compliments.

The girls of Tian Zaishui practically worshipped Du Yunge as a deity. Whatever she said was right; whatever she did was part of some profound, ten-step-ahead strategy. But heaven knew Du Yunge herself felt she merely had a keen sensitivity and dedication to poetry and song, not the profound inner strength of someone like Xue Shuyan, who, it was said, could hear a water droplet fall from ten feet away when concentrating.

Before she could explain, the Qinhuai courtesan had already approached. As she bowed gracefully with her pipa, she carried a unique charm, and her voice was exceptionally pleasing not only did she speak flawless Mandarin, but her sweet, coquettish tone, perfectly balanced, was exquisitely conveyed in that brief utterance:

“I have met the Sect Master of Miaoyin Sect.”

Only after Du Yunge said, “No need for formalities, you may rise,” did this courtesan lift her head and sit on the stool brought over by the girls of Tian Zaishui. Du Yunge finally got a clear look at her face. Just as the girls of Tian Zaishui had said, this newly appointed courtesan had no particularly outstanding features in terms of appearance. However, when it came to her voice, perhaps only Du Yunge could rival her.

The newly appointed courtesan of Qinhuai tightened the strings of her pipa, her expression unchanged under Du Yunge’s scrutiny. She smiled generously and said:

“Sect Master, you’ve been staring at me for quite a while. What, do you find me beautiful?”

Du Yunge was startled, realizing she had indeed been staring at the woman in red for too long. She quickly averted her gaze, but the lingering doubt in her heart remained. That cascade of raven-black hair was simply too beautiful so beautiful it felt almost unreal.

“I called you here for no other reason than to hear you sing. Once you’re done, you may leave.”

“As for what to sing just perform the piece you’re most skilled at. No need to hold back.”

After a moment’s thought, Du Yunge added:

“But not the ‘Song of the Southern Country’ you sang before.”

Du Yunge, who had died once and been revived with the help of some unknown force, had always held a deep belief in supernatural phenomena, fateful encounters, and karmic retribution.

That night, when the former Qinhuai branch master died, Du Yunge stood before a corpse that had just lost its last breath. A little further away, the people of Tian Zaishui knelt in unison, not daring to make a sound. In the vast hall of Tian Zaishui, only Xue Shuyan stood by her side.

At that very moment, amidst the chaotic noises from outside the window, she could clearly discern someone on the distant street strumming a pipa and singing loudly. It was this newly appointed courtesan, singing the “Song of the Southern Country” with the line, “All things fade with the wind and rain.” And this song coincidentally contained the origin of the name of the “Zanhua” poison, evoking a subtle, almost fateful sensation.

The courtesan complied, slipping on her hawksbill-shell plectrum guards and gently plucking the strings. She smiled and said, “In that case, I shall sing ‘Butterflies in Love with Flowers’ for the Sect Master.”

Du Yunge gave a slight nod. With her approval, the courtesan began to sing:

“Jade pendants tinkle, fragrant smoke curls,
Untouched by dust, like a fairy isle.”

As her voice filled the air, the entire Tian Zaishui fell into a profound silence. Those around her dared not even breathe too loudly, afraid of startling or interrupting this ethereal melody that seemed to belong only to the heavens. Everyone thought to themselves, no wonder she had been chosen as the Qinhuai courtesan despite being merely fair-looking. Her singing was truly exceptional beyond anything they had imagined.

In the years since the criteria for selecting the Qinhuai courtesan had changed, few had ever been chosen for reasons other than beauty. Even those who were said to have been selected for their musical or vocal skills had the advantage of good looks. After all, people tend to be more forgiving toward beauties. As long as their playing was passable and their singing not too unpleasant, they could be hailed as courtesans of “both talent and beauty.”

But if this courtesan’s appearance was merely average, at best delicately pretty, then her singing voice must be capable of shattering metal and stone, coaxing autumn rain, and halting drifting clouds and flowing water.

A single clear song, round as pearls and smooth as jade, was truly a rare sound in the mortal world.

Only after her song gradually faded did the crowd snap out of their reverie, turning their gazes in unison toward Du Yunge. They wondered: With such exquisite singing preceding her, would the sect leader recruit her into the “Sky in Water” troupe or take her to “Forget Worry Mountain”?

Yet, to everyone’s surprise, Du Yunge paid little attention to the courtesan. She was stirring a bowl of steaming snow fungus soup on the table before her with a small spoon, her eyes lowered, intently focused on the sweet dessert. Many around her felt a pang of envy, wishing they could be that bowl. Others silently applauded, thinking, “Truly, the sect leader has seen great scenes and isn’t easily moved by such mundane matters.”

But heaven knows, Du Yunge simply wanted to enjoy a bowl of sweet soup. Ever since she developed cavities as a child from eating sweets sent by the Emei Sect leader, Xia Yecheng had strictly controlled her sugar intake. At one point, even sweet and sour dishes were banned from her meals, replaced by a sugar-free version known as “vinegar-braised.”

As she rested her hand on the table, her sleeve slipped down to her forearm, revealing a wrist as pure and fair as snow. It was bare, so plain that it almost seemed mismatched with her esteemed status as the leader of the Miaoyin Sect. Yet, at a glance, it appeared perfectly fitting, as if nothing in the world could truly complement such a wrist.

The red-clad courtesan, fiery as flames, stared at that wrist with an obscure, almost obsessive gaze, teetering on the brink of madness. Just then, Du Yunge suddenly lifted her long, butterfly-wing-like lashes and glanced lightly at her before lowering her eyes again, wholly absorbed in stirring the snow fungus soup as if nothing in the world mattered more.

This unintentional gesture startled the already guilt-ridden courtesan, sending a cold sweat down her spine. She thought to herself, “How did the once-naive young sect leader become so sharp? She must have been influenced by that stern-faced one. Ah, what bad luck! It seems I can’t just whisk her away directly; I’ll need to find another roundabout method.”

Du Yunge had no idea that her simple act of blinking merely because the steam had made her eyes sting had sparked such elaborate thoughts in the courtesan’s scheming mind. As the last echo of the courtesan’s song finally dissipated, the sweet soup she had been eagerly waiting for had cooled to the perfect temperature. She took a sip of the sweet snow lotus, goji berry, and snow fungus soup, thinking how skilled the cook was. She made a mental note to visit the kitchen later and ask if the cook would be willing to come to Forget Worry Mountain. Just then, the red-clad courtesan could no longer hold back and asked:

“Sect Leader, would you like to hear another song?”

Just as Xue Shuyan had said, their sect leader was still like a child at heart, with an innocent nature. Not even a captivating courtesan from Qinhuai with a mesmerizing voice could hold her attention perhaps not even a peerless beauty with both talent and looks could compare to a steaming bowl of snow fungus soup.

The moment the Qinhuai courtesan spoke up to remind her, Du Yunge suddenly remembered that there was a top courtesan with a beautiful singing voice waiting for her reward though this courtesan showed no intention of asking for money, as what she sought was not something as mundane as gold or silver. Feeling a little embarrassed, Du Yunge turned to the Tian Zaishui maidens still awaiting her orders and commanded:

“Someone, fetch the reward for this.”

She abruptly paused, realizing that since the newly crowned courtesan had entered, aside from exchanging a few pleasantries and singing a song, she had not mentioned anything else. Du Yunge knew virtually nothing about her, so she halted her order to fetch the reward and asked instead:

“What is your name?”

When giving someone a gift, it’s only proper to address them by the correct name. The woman in fiery red robes, with delicate features and striking brows, didn’t seem the least bit offended that Du Yunge was completely unaware of her status as the newly appointed, renowned Flower Queen of Qinhuai. She chuckled softly, her voice clearer and more enchanting than the chime of silver bells stirred by a gentle breeze:

“Reporting to the Sect Leader, my name is Qin Shanshan.”

That name was all too familiar! Wasn’t this the exact alias used by that mysterious girl who had inexplicably wandered around Mount Emei, whose origins and intentions were unknown, and whose allegiance friend or foe remained unclear?!

Du Yunge nearly choked on her mouthful of silver ear mushroom soup.

Taking a closer look, she realized that this Flower Queen bore no resemblance whatsoever to that pseudo-Emei disciple dressed in plain blue robes, whose features were unremarkable except for her lustrous, raven-black hair. In fact, there wasn’t the slightest similarity between the two.

Yet, within just a few days, she had encountered two people with the exact same name. If this were mere coincidence, not even the present Du Yunge who had vowed never to trust others lightly again would believe it, let alone the naive Du Yunge of her past life, who would have taken everything at face value.

Just then, she heard a series of hurried footsteps descending from upstairs.

Support