As the mountain wind swept pine needles across Ye Fan’s shoulder, he was gripping the jade slip given by Li Shouzhuo, making his way toward Qingxi Town. Although that dark red gaze had already receded into the depths of the forest, the back of his neck still tingled with cold—until the sound of a qin broke through the forest mist.
It was not the usual clear and crisp sound, but a melody carrying three parts sorrow and seven parts sharp gentleness. Ye Fan’s steps came to an abrupt halt, his Adam's apple bobbing. In his past life, he had heard this tune at Wanhua Tower. When Su Qingxue’s fingertips brushed the strings, the gold leaves tossed down by applauding young masters could pile up into a small mountain, yet he knew that hidden within the qin's music were needles laced with gelsemium elegans.
The music came from a mountain hollow to his front left. Eschewing the official road, he forged directly into the woods, trampling through decaying leaves. He felt no pain as pine branches scratched the back of his hand, until he rounded an ancient maple tree thick enough for two people to hug, and the figure in the stone pavilion came into view.
Chapter 114