Chapter 104: A Masterpiece of Heavenly Sound (Please Subscribe)-The Rogue Son-in-Law(Mr. Wu)

“Honored guests, tonight the Entertainment Bureau proudly presents a new composition titled ‘Prelude to Water Melody: When Will the Bright Moon Appear?’—a recent work by the scholar Fang Xian from Kaiyang County,” announced Madam Qingmei as she stepped onto the stage, temporarily taking on the role of host to introduce the evening’s featured piece and its author.

Yet, she spoke little beyond stating the tune’s title and the poet’s name and place of origin. In truth, even the bureau’s chief, Manager Li, knew no more. There was nothing further to say, for Fang Xian was an unknown figure.

“Kaiyang County’s Fang Xian? I’ve never heard of him before. Has anyone else?” The mention of his name instantly stirred murmurs and curiosity within and beyond the Entertainment Bureau.

“None of us have heard of him; it seems no poems of his have ever circulated. Clearly, he’s just a nobody,” someone sneered.

“Sounds like an obscure man trying to make a name for himself by buying his way into the Entertainment Bureau’s spotlight. Regardless of the poem’s merit, at least now everyone knows who he is.”

“Exactly. I was looking forward to the bureau’s new piece, but now it seems this evening was all for naught,” some within the bureau sighed, contemplating leaving early.

“Tonight, however, we shall witness how this Fang Xian from Kaiyang County might astonish the world. Raise your glasses and offer sincere blessings to Master Fang,” laughed Shi Hongchang aboard a flower boat, his teasing tone unmistakable.

Laughter erupted from surrounding flower boats, as courtesans prepared to mock the Entertainment Bureau and deride the obscure Fang Xian, hoping he would shrink away in shame and never appear before the public again.

“When will the bright moon appear? I raise my cup and ask the azure sky.”

At that moment, a melodious voice drifted from within the bureau. Though sung solo, those familiar recognized the voice as that of Miss Xiaomei, one of the four chief courtesans, whose childlike timbre was as enchanting as a heavenly melody.

Only two lines were sung, yet all chatter ceased instantly—not merely for the beauty of the voice, but because the song transported listeners into a mysterious realm.

“I wonder what year it is tonight in the celestial palaces above?” Then came a low, husky voice, filled with sighs, deep emotions, and endless longing.

At these words, everyone along both banks of the Qingyue River lifted their heads, their imaginations painting images of towering palaces in the heavens, where beauties wandered restlessly, lamenting the fleeting nature of time, year after year remaining unchanged.

This voice belonged to Miss Xiaolan, the bureau’s chief courtesan, whose magnetic, husky tone evoked the aura of a worldly woman, infused with limitless charm, stirring the mind to distant reveries.

“I wish to ride the wind and return, yet fear the jade towers and crystal halls, too cold at such heights.” The third line was sung by Miss Xiaozhu, whose voice bore a single trait: purity. Unblemished by worldly dust, her singing left no fanciful thoughts, only clarity.

As she sang, a figure clad in flowing white appeared at the center of the stage, slowly ascending, drifting toward the rooftop, ethereal and unearthly, as if about to transcend to the heavens.

The harmony of song and dance etched the scene deeply into the minds of all present, some forever haunted by the vision—if one could truly ascend, it would be just so.

“Dancing, casting a clear shadow—how unlike the mortal world.” The final line was given voice by Miss Xiaoju, whose echoing tone seemed accompanied by harmonies, weaving a tapestry of tender sorrow that lingered long in the heart.

With the first stanza concluded, a profound silence enveloped the bureau and its surroundings. Countless listeners were immersed in the atmosphere conjured by the lyrics, the lingering melody resonating in their ears, leaving them speechless.

Yet, in unison, many hearts thought: “Such a melody should belong only to the heavens; how often can the mortal realm hear it?” Compared to Shi Hongchang’s ‘Autumn Night Moon,’ even this half-stanza surpassed it by far.

“The vermilion pavilion turns, the embroidered doors lower, shining upon the sleepless. There should be no resentment—why must the moon always be full at parting? People experience joy and sorrow, reunion and separation; the moon waxes and wanes—such things have long been imperfect. But may we live long and share the beauty of the moon, though miles apart.”

Just as these words stirred restless hearts, dozens of the bureau’s courtesans joined together, singing the second stanza. Their voices wove a tapestry of plaintive yearning, sorrowful confession, and tender longing, instantly capturing every soul. Some listeners’ eyes moistened, tears streaming unknowingly down their cheeks.

Many found their minds painting scenes of lonely beauties in vast imperial palaces, tossing and turning in sleepless nights, rising at midnight under the full moon to lean on balconies, lamenting the sorrows of partings and reunions.

“May we live long and share the beauty of the moon, though miles apart.”

The final two lines, heavy with profound meaning, conjured different images and memories for each onlooker. Especially for the courtesans, whether from brothels or the bureau, all bore stories they dared not recall. Now, stirred by these words, they wept softly, voices low with sorrow.

“May we live long and share the beauty of the moon, though miles apart.”

After the entire poem ended, the four chief courtesans—Plum, Orchid, Bamboo, and Chrysanthemum—each took turns singing the last line, followed by all the bureau’s courtesans joining in chorus, repeating it over and over.

Though there was no full moon this night, a crescent hung in the sky and river, casting gentle light and hope. Along the Qingyue River’s banks, countless gazed upward at the bright moon, their thoughts soaring wildly beneath its glow, flying to distant lands to reach friends far away.

Fang Xian quietly absorbed the scene. Suddenly, in his eyes, the moon’s radiance intensified brilliantly, and a rich, pure, mysterious energy surged forth, flowing into his body.

This energy was immense, rapidly filling his meridians before permeating his bones, skin, muscles, blood, and cells, comprehensively enhancing his physical constitution.

He immediately grasped the hand of Princess Wu Qingluan, channeling a portion of this mysterious energy into her. Her beautiful eyes flashed open, her spirit gathering as she began to cultivate, absorbing the power.

Though she did not know the nature of this energy or how Fang Xian had acquired it, she sensed its supreme quality, surpassing ordinary inner strength. Not only did it bolster her internal power, but it also thoroughly reinforced and elevated her body.

“May we live long and share the beauty of the moon, though miles apart.”

As the bureau’s myriad courtesans sang the phrase repeatedly, gradually, on the Qingyue River outside, courtesans aboard flower boats from various establishments began to join in, until their numbers steadily grew.