Mountains and Rivers Bear Witness, Memories of Bygone Fires Chapter Two: A Pact Sealed by the Melody of the Zither

Spring turns to autumn, flowers bloom and wither; this is the third year Chen Zhiming has been selling paintings on the street. In a few days, he will turn nine. On this day, as usual, he set out to sell his paintings, but unexpectedly, some important figure was coming to town, and the entire street seemed to carry a solemn air not often seen. The boy paid it no mind; after all, it had nothing to do with him. What mattered most was to set up his stall and focus on selling his paintings.

At the end of the street, a carriage drawn by two horses approached slowly. Merchants, travelers, and passersby all stopped to watch. In this small county, families who owned a carriage could be counted on two hands, and they rarely made an appearance except during grand festivals. Usually, they were reluctant to use them, fearing they might be damaged. As for a two-horse carriage, rumor had it that only the head of Tianyu Academy, the county lord, or the prince of Tianyu County possessed such a vehicle.

As the carriage rolled past, the crowd murmured in speculation. Some claimed it was the academy head inside, others thought it was the county lord. As for the prince, none dared imagine such a lofty figure would visit a humble county like this.

"Second Senior Brother is so annoying! I told him to keep a low profile, yet he insists on this carriage. Now it's impossible to be discreet. Hmph! Wait till I get back—I'll have Second Master teach him a lesson!" Inside the carriage, an eight- or nine-year-old girl stood with hands on her hips, her delicate face framed by large, bright eyes that blinked with indignation. Her cheeks puffed out as she tried to look grave, but little did she know, her look was irresistibly adorable to others.

Seated beside her were a man and a woman. The woman, seeing the girl's antics, covered her mouth and laughed. "Oh, you. Your Second Brother meant well; he rarely goes out, so he doesn't know any better."

The girl feigned deep thought, then spoke in an adult-like tone, "Alright, I'll forgive him this time."

The man beside them couldn't hold back a chuckle. Seeing him laugh, the girl threatened to hit him, but the woman stopped them, advising, "Enough, no more fussing." She glanced outside. "This must be Lingwu, right?"

"Yes, we're on Lingwu's main street. Once we cross, turn left, and we'll reach the county lord's residence. Should we go and pay our respects?" The man looked at them, his gaze finally resting on the girl.

"Why are you looking at me? Second Senior Brother is still waiting for us at the prince's place," the girl looked to the woman for guidance.

The woman seemed to see through her thoughts and smiled. "No need to meet him unless there's official business. I hear the prince challenges your Second Brother every day; he must be praying we arrive soon so he can escape."

At this, they all laughed together, as if picturing Second Senior Brother's miserable plight.

Just then, a gentle, ethereal melody drifted on the wind. The carriage curtain fluttered, and the girl caught sight of a young boy outside.

"What a fine tune," the woman inside praised. "To have such mastery at this age, this child will surely achieve great things in music."

The man nodded in agreement, but the girl was not pleased. She stood up, indignant. "Hmph, that's nothing. I can do it too!" She shouted to the driver, "Stop!"

Before the other two could react, the girl was gone.

---

Both were astonished. "Such speed... Could it be...?"

The woman glanced at the man, and they hurried after her, only to find the girl with one hand pressing the strings of the zither, one foot planted on the table, shouting amidst the stunned crowd, "I want to challenge you!"

Chen Zhiming looked at the newly cleaned table, resigned. He had been quietly playing, but suddenly this little girl appeared, stomping on his freshly cleaned table and demanding a contest. For a moment, he wondered if she had lost her senses.

He replied coldly, "No."

"What?" The girl thought she misheard. This boy actually refused her! Her face reddened, as if mortally wronged. She pointed at him indignantly, "Do you know how many people line up just to hear me play? And you... you..." Before she could finish, he again replied coolly, "No."

Turning away, Chen Zhiming began to wipe the table, indicating, "Move aside." Before the girl could react, he was already cleaning. She quickly withdrew her foot, glaring at her own rebellious limb. Seeing his calm demeanor, she grew even more frustrated, unable to find a reason to vent her anger, as if punching the air.

Outside the crowd, the man and woman watched on, amused. "Our little princess has finally met her match," the man remarked, intrigued.

"Indeed, I've never seen her so at a loss," the woman replied, looking at Chen Zhiming. "That little one, to have such composure at his age—neither the noble sons nor even the princes have such presence."

The girl was angry for a while, but soon realized her behavior was wrong. Forcing herself to calm down, she looked at the crowd, then at the boy before her: plainly dressed, clearly the poorest among them, yet possessing a quality no wealth could buy. He seemed out of place, as if he didn't belong here at all. In that moment, she understood she shouldn't act this way. Her petulance faded, and she grew quiet. Her musical talent was considerable; she recalled the tune she had heard from the carriage, every note and phrase. Having grasped the essence, she spoke sincerely, "My teacher once told me that life is a quest for knowledge, and so is learning music. I wish to learn from you."

Chen Zhiming was surprised by this sudden change. Though she had acted spoiled, she was attentive and insightful. He looked at her. "You have a good teacher. The one who taught me the zither once said, 'Before you learn music, you must learn to be a good person.' You may be a bit unruly, but your words are not without reason. As you see, I'm merely someone who plays music to earn a living; my skills lack the elegance of famous musicians. There’s little I can teach you. You’d do better to seek out renowned masters."

The girl replied earnestly, "Among my peers, none can surpass me in music. But you are different. Your skills exceed theirs; I don’t know if I can win against you. I wish to understand our differences, so I can improve. Most importantly, your tune is unique—others play stories, but you use stories to play music. To me, elegance or wit are merely mortal concerns. We met through music; please, do not refuse me."

She fixed her gaze on him, her eyes seeming to pierce his soul. "I see hardship and resilience in you, and... something familiar." Her eyes glimmered strangely, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Her hand rested on the strings, murmuring, "So that's it. We haven't met in a long time."

Slowly, her fingers plucked the zither. The boy could neither speak nor move, but he heard the music clearly.

What a melody it was—graceful and lively, tinged with the mist and rain of the mortal world. Through the haze, Chen Zhiming seemed to see verdant mountains and clear waters, gentle rain, ancient paths, and along one such path, a girl beneath an oil-paper umbrella, turning back with a smile. In that moment, all the world's rain and mist paled.

---

When the song ended, she leaned close and whispered something softly in his ear, then took a pendant from her neck and placed it in his palm. The world resumed; she stepped back, waved with a smile, and said, "Nine years from now, the City of Flowers will host a grand festival. I hope you’ll come, and then we'll compete again. With this pendant, you can find me—don’t lose it, it's very precious."

Without another word, she climbed back into the carriage, the man and woman following. Only after the carriage had gone did the crowd stir, wondering who the girl was, and who her companions were, bursting into noisy speculation.

In contrast to the clamor, Chen Zhiming remained in a daze, staring at the pendant, its warmth lingering in his hand. He murmured, "City of Flowers... to meet again..."

Inside the carriage, the man looked at the girl. "You gave him the Spirit Jade—that was from your mother..."

Before the girl could reply, she suddenly groaned, her face turning pale as she fainted. The man quickly checked her pulse, his expression growing grim. The woman asked urgently, "How is she?"

The man hesitated, then spoke. "Not good. She must have used that ability just now." He looked outside. "We need to hurry our journey."

...

At dusk, Chen Zhiming sat by the lake, gazing at the jade in his hand. From the moment he touched it, his mind felt calmer; instinct told him this was no ordinary object. Yet he wondered why the girl had given it to him—was it really only to make it easier to find her?

"City of Flowers, festival..."

He recalled what the girl had whispered in his ear: "Actually, only you could hear what I played just now."

"And, this is our second meeting."

He looked up at the twilight sky. Flocks of birds flew through the clouds; the evening breeze knocked loose the last leaves, which drifted onto the lake. Chen Zhiming touched the water with his toe, sending ripples that carried the leaves away. "You came in a rush, I didn’t even get to ask your name, and you left just as quickly."

He didn’t know if it was regret or something else he felt, as he held the pendant in silence. When the autumn wind spoke, dusk had passed, and all grew quiet around him. "Today, it seems, is unusually still..."