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The Cloud Recesses and the Unclean Realm were as different as their Sect Leaders. Meng Yao wandered through the few halls and rooms he was allowed to as a visitor while he reflected on the contrasts he encountered at every step, in every wall, and every window, as well as in every garden. Both places were mysterious and intriguing in their own way, and Meng Yao couldn’t tell which one he liked best.
The previous night, he memorized the map of the areas open to the guests, meaning to take great care about where his steps took him—only to get lost in his own head as a particular scene from the day before came to mind.
The moment in which he presented the gift from the Nie Sect to Lan Xichen kept replaying in his head time and time again. Whenever he closed his eyes, Meng Yao saw that gentle face, the sweet smile, and those warm eyes, and what could be said about the moment their hands brushed?
The circumstances of Meng Yao’s life growing up meant that he knew better than to get his hopes up. Not that he thought that Lan Xichen would think less of him if he learned about his origin. Nie Mingjue wouldn’t speak that highly of him if he were the kind of man who looked down on others because of where they came from. To be honest, Nie Mingjue didn’t speak that highly of anyone else.
Hard to believe at first but, now that he had seen Lan Xichen’s eyes, Meng Yao understood that such a perfect being could truly exist. However, even then, despite it all, he was painfully aware that a Leader of one of the main Cultivation Sects considering him seriously was more of a fluke than anything else.
Meng Yao’s days in a brothel were long gone and he would set the world on fire before going back to one. But he couldn’t help that was where his ungrateful thoughts took him when it came to assessing someone’s worth.
Just by looking at him, if anyone said Nie Mingjue was an occasional brothel customer, only those who knew him would doubt it. On the other hand, no one would even consider uttering the same thing about Lan Xichen.
This made Meng Yao happy.
At that point, he came back to the present, and he realized that his traitorous footsteps had brought him to the room where the Lan Sect kept their musical instruments—an area forbidden for guests, according to his map.
He’d better leave before anyone saw him.
However, unable to resist, before turning around, Meng Yao allowed his eyes to linger on the instruments displayed on the shelves. They were beautiful and strong. They would create powerful melodies as long as skillful fingers played them—and Meng Yao could picture a specific pair of hands plucking the strings.
“Welcome to the music room,” said a warm voice behind him.
Startled, Meng Yao spun around. His embarrassment only grew when he realized that the person he had been thinking of was the one who discovered his transgression. As a reflex, he tried to bow and apologize, but Sect Leader Lan stopped him before he went as low as he should have.
“Zewu-jun…”
“It’s fine. No wrongdoing has been committed. I was thinking of showing you this room before you went back to the Unclean Realm.”
“To me?”
“Yes, to you.”
Lan Xichen’s smile, although discreet and polite, was also sweet. It went all the way to his eyes, which shone with amusement, and made his face the most beautiful Meng Yao had ever seen.
Meng Yao had seen many faces during his life, friendly and unfriendly, scary and otherwise, and this one had become his favorite in an instant. Moreover, its owner had a heart to match, and he wanted Meng Yao to be around him. He wanted to show him his family’s instruments! How could he not be humbled?
“Zewu-jun, if you still wish to show me, I would be delighted to see.”
Lan Xichen’s face lit up even further and he directed Meng Yao’s attention back to the instruments. He led him to one in particular and began to explain its history and the kind of music and sounds it produced.
Until then, Meng Yao had a limited comprehension of music. That it could be like this, so diverse, so versatile… So powerful. It caught him off guard. He had been so ignorant.
A few minutes into the lecture, he thought he could now understand the appeal of this kind of cultivation. Or, at least, why Lan Xichen was drawn to it. The man was so full of passion and love toward his art, his cultivation, and his sect.
For a terrible moment, Meng Yao wondered if Lan Xichen was just as passionate about everything.
He quickly schooled his thoughts back into more appropriate and decent grounds, and he promised himself to do some penance later. Probably when he was on his way back to the Unclean Realm, where Lan Xichen wouldn’t be able to stop him and Nie Mingjue wouldn’t distract him.
Now, he had to come back to the present and the explanation. He had to return his attention to Lan Xichen.
“Ah, I apologize for talking so much,” Lan Xichen said after a while. “Please, tell me, do you play any instrument?”
Meng Yao was about to say that there was no need for Sect Leader Lan to apologize. This was his house—and Meng Yao loved his warm, rich voice. But the question came like a punch aimed at his face. A hard, well-applied punch.
Nie Mingjue didn’t have much use for music, and Nie Huaisang had the inclination to practice a different kind of art, which meant that music tended to be scarce in the Unclean Realm. However, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Meng Yao did know how to play a couple of instruments. He had even learned a few pieces…
…back when he lived at the brothel.
The owner and some of the louder patrons thought it would be funny to make a child sing and play rowdy and uncouth songs. Thus, he got some training. But his heart hadn’t been in it and the novelty wore off quickly when those people found something else to entertain themselves with.
“Meng Yao?” Lan Xichen asked, worried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Offend me?” Meng Yao shook his head. “How could you ever offend me?”
Perhaps if it were someone else, but not Lan Xichen.
As for what to do now…He could lie. Meng Yao could say he didn’t know how to pluck a string or blow a note to save his life. Lan Xichen wouldn’t fault him. He didn’t fault Nie Mingjue who openly and loudly claimed that he didn’t have any interest in that kind of thing.
If this was anyone else, Meng Yao would have lied and he would have slept great that night and all other nights. But whenever Meng Yao looked Lan Xichen in the eye and thought of saying a falsehood, a great feeling of shame washed over him and made him feel the lowest of insects.
Lying to Lan Xichen, even if only once, would stop Meng Yao from being able to look at him in the face again, and he wasn’t willing to give up that privilege.
He lowered his eyes and swallowed to clear his throat.
“As a youngster,” he began, “I learned to play a couple of songs, albeit not very proficiently. Considering the number of years that have elapsed since then, I find myself hesitant to perform any of them for you.”
Lan Xichen tilted his head. His smile became a thoughtful expression without letting go of its warmth.
“I understand. I apologize if I made you feel pressured.”
Oh. Oh, no.
He had disappointed Lan Xichen.
Meng Yao was such a mess. Always had been, always would be.
However, Lan Xichen’s smile returned in full force.
“If you would allow me, maybe I could help you remember.”
Meng Yao couldn’t help but stare at him with his eyes wide open.
“Would you?” He shook his head and hurried to bow again. “But you’re such a busy man! How could I pretend that you—”
Without words, Lan Xichen’s patient expression made Meng Yao interrupt himself.
“I’m—I’ll be honored.”
That was enough for Lan Xichen to start beaming again. Next, he walked to the shelves and stared at the guqins until he found one that pleased him. He grabbed it and motioned for Meng Yao to follow him.
On the side of the room, Lan Xichen got ready to play the instrument. Meng Yao sat in front of him and stared at Lan Xichen’s long, elegant hands. Meng Yao stared and stared, grateful at having an excuse for doing it openly, and anticipated with bated breath the moment Lan Xichen would start plucking the strings.
But then…
“Do you remember the name of those songs you used to play? Perhaps I know one or two.”
Meng Yao’s face grew hot. This time, it took him longer than usual to find the words.
“Zewu-jun’s knowledge of music is without question vast and deep. However, even then, I doubt those are the kind of pieces that would ever reach your ears.”
Lan Xichen tilted his head. An instant later, he covered his mouth with his long, snowy sleeves to hide a giggle.
“Ah! That kind of song?”
Meng Yao looked back with wide-open eyes and his jaw dropped, which was as good as admitting it.
Lan Xichen’s giggling intensified. It would have been delightful if it hadn’t been so mortifying.
“No member of the Lan Sect is cloistered in the Cloud Recesses, and all kinds of cultivators like to sing all kinds of songs during the night hunts.”
Meng Yao looked back at him. Lan Xichen sounded honest.
Upon further inspection, Meng Yao concluded that he was honest.
“Come on,” Lan Xichen continued in an encouraging whisper. “There is no one here, and there won’t be in hours.”
Meng Yao took a moment to digest that Lan Xichen was being a bad influence. However, that didn’t diminish his allure. Instead, it gave him depth.
Meng Yao dared to smile.
“All right. I’ll hum it for you.”
So he did. It was one of the tamest ones—and Lan Xichen did know it.
Meng Yao started the exercise feeling self-conscious and shy, but as the song went on, he began to remember how his mother encouraged his studies. She encouraged all his studies, even those.
“Everything you learn will be useful someday. You’ll see.”
And she had been right.
A couple of songs later, Meng Yao’s hands hovered over the guqin strings as he did the best he could to copy Lan Xichen’s movements with moderate success.
Lan Xichen wouldn’t stand for that and he gently corrected the mistakes by directing Meng Yao’s fingers to the right place.
Meng Yao shivered. He accepted the corrections and continued playing. His heart fluttered. He didn’t remember the last time he felt so accepted and so alive.
Lan Xichen wasn’t only a gracious host. He also had a great disposition and lots of patience.
Their session ended after a long while and too soon at the same time. In just one afternoon, Meng Yao had learned more about music than in the months he had practiced at the brothel.
“You’re a good student,” Lan Xichen said as he put the guqin back on the shelf. “If there is any opportunity in the future, I would love to continue the lessons. If you agree.”
Meng Yao nodded.
“Zewu-jun, you honor me. Yes, I would appreciate that.”
Lan Xichen smiled at him again.
Meng Yao smiled back.
Neither of them had any way to suspect the events that would unfold in the future, but, at that moment, both of them had the purest intentions.
In reality, it took a long time for them to have lessons on the regular, and even longer for Lan Xichen to regret having extended such kindness that day.