CHAPTER 804: CHAPTER 235 DREAM NIGHT_3

She was still singing "Locking Kylin Pouch,"

The Lady of the Xue Family in "Locking Kylin Pouch" also happened to share the surname Xue; the character Xue Xiangling first wedded and traveled to a distant land, then due to a great flood, she became separated from her family during their escape and drifted alone to a foreign place. Her life took a massive turn by a twist of fate.

Xue Fangfei’s voice was exceptionally clear, particularly moving in the night. She sang of the time after the rich lady’s marriage.

"After the wedding, time flew unknowingly, while the beauty of youth still remained. Carrying my tender child in a carriage, we traveled all the streets, just to hear the earth-shattering cries of lament."

Her sorrowful lyrics did not come across as sad when she sang them; on the contrary, they had a brisk playfulness, as if she didn’t take them to heart at all. Unlike a woman burdened with worries, she resembled a girl fresh to the martial arts world, filled with wonder and astonishment, showing not a hint of self-pity.

She really didn’t seem like someone who’s had a rough life.

"I am famished, calling for my husband who isn’t there. Why can I not see pagoda or pavilion in these desolate fields? Could this be the fulfillment of the merciless flood? In a daze, I boarded a boat with everyone else. My dear mother might have perished in the waves, and my precious child may be buried in the belly of a fish. Have you seen my husband and mother? Come with me back to my hometown to search for their corpses."

Jih Heng was a very picky person; people said he loved watching operas, but it was actually the sight of the actors deeply entangled in their roles, shedding tears and laughing over joys and sorrows that weren’t their own, that appealed to him. He would always remain an observer. Xue Fangfei’s singing was quite indifferent; she didn’t immerse herself in the opera, and her sorrowful lyrics did not sound heartbreaking, instead, she imbued them with a touch of cheerfulness. Not a true disciple of the Pear Garden, her performance could not be spectacular, but oddly enough, Jih Heng did not take offense. Instead, he sat on the other side of the wall, listening quietly as if her voice carried warmth, softening his heart that felt like it had been retrieved from an ice cellar.

She sang:

"In a moment, all past affection was forgotten, thoroughly understanding the bitterness as tears soaked my collar."

"I thought my affluence was set for life, who knew that one’s fate could change in an instant. I remember how I once threw tantrums and had my way; now, even if I stopped believing in the past, it wouldn’t matter."

"This too is a lesson from the heavens: they taught me to relinquish lingering resentments, refrain from petulance, start anew, change my temperament, forsake the lost past, and turn back from the sea of suffering, to awaken earlier to the cause of my plight."

In the opera, the Lady of the Xue Family faced a tremendous change and was forced to work as a servant in someone else’s house. It was then that she experienced the feelings of how things change and people move on. When Xue Fangfei reached this point in her singing, she too conveyed a faint melancholy, so slight, yet Jih Heng caught it. This beautiful, young lady too must have not led a joyous life, although her sorrow was likely quite different from that of Xue Xiangling in the opera. Xue Xiangling’s life changed from riches to rags, whereas Xue Fangfei seemingly lived better, but was devoid of freedom.

It was this faint melancholy that made Jih Heng realize, this woman was naturally not foolish—she knew everything, yet silently endured it all. Regardless of the reason, she bore a resemblance to his own plight of shared misery. But Xue Fangfei and Jih Heng were utterly different; her singing was full of openness and composure, brightness and integrity, as if she would brazenly march forward into an uncertain future without a shred of fear.

In the mild spring night of Yanjing City, full of music and dance, how many filthy deals lay hidden in the darkness. Yet her singing was like a beam of light, momentarily illuminating the darkness and exposing its true nature.

But Jih Heng knew that a woman as straightforward and honorable as her, who understood everything yet chose a path that seemed foolish, would one day be buried in such a night. The man by her side didn’t need light. Like one accustomed to the dark, Jih Heng understood better than anyone what such a person desired. As soon as Shen Yurong decided that sacrificing his wife was necessary, he would do so without hesitation.

She knew this, yet her trust shattered her cleverness, allowing her also to be deceived.

What can be said?

Jih Heng didn’t know what to say. She sang "Locking Kylin Pouch," the woman singing was not caught in the opera, she was composed and passionate while he, supposed to be a detached onlooker, found himself strangely entranced. Indeed, it was a peculiar experience. One thing was certain—on this side of the wall, listening to the rough lyrics of the woman on the other side, the feeling of despair that had been driving him to contemplate death slowly dissipated.