Chapter Twenty-Three: Carving Paper into a Flute

Following the direction of the flute’s melody, Chu Youcai arrived at the edge of a cliff, where he saw a young maiden playing the flute. She held the flute in her left hand, while a wild goose perched gracefully on the back of her right hand. The bird seemed almost enchanted, dancing in time with the music.

The moon hung high in the sky, but its silver light upon the cliff paled in comparison to the beauty of the maiden as she played. Yet, within the haunting notes of the flute, there was a sense of melancholy that tugged at the heart—a sorrow that could not be ignored.

How could such a lovely woman be so burdened by sadness?

Chu Youcai stood silently, listening.

As the song came to an end, the flute in the maiden’s hands slowly transformed into a paper crane, gently landing back in her palm. It was the art of conjuring a flute from cut paper—a rare and wondrous magic. The wild goose, meanwhile, hopped lightly onto her shoulder, but the instant it noticed Chu Youcai, it let out a low, grumbling coo.

Suddenly, Chu Youcai remembered, just before he lost consciousness, hearing those people refer to someone as “Second Lady,” a woman rumored to possess powerful magic. And now, witnessing her create a flute from paper, he couldn’t help but feel an eager admiration. Compared to the girl surnamed Shangguan, this Second Lady carried an air of gallant heroism.

He straightened and bowed deeply. “Thank you for saving my life. I am forever in your debt.”

“You once saved my Qing’er; you owe me nothing,” the maiden replied with a hearty laugh. Her smile was so genuine that Chu Youcai felt swept up in her bold, chivalrous spirit. With that smile, all traces of her earlier sorrow seemed to vanish.

“Your Qing’er?” Chu Youcai was puzzled. He didn’t recall knowing anyone named Qing’er.

The maiden pointed to the wild goose on her shoulder. “She has a lovely name, doesn’t she?”

Chu Youcai couldn’t help but laugh. So the wild goose he’d rescued in the ruins west of Yanzhou City was this very bird—what a coincidence! He stepped closer and gently stroked the wild goose. “So it was you. The name suits you well. Qing’er, you’re a good girl.”

The goose closed its eyes, basking in the warmth of his touch.

Bathed in moonlight, with a waterfall thundering in the distance, a beautiful woman and a mystical bird by his side, Chu Youcai felt transported beyond the mundane world. If only he possessed such magical arts, he thought—he could fold paper into a flute or even a crane, and soar through the sky. It was a childhood dream.

But he knew that those who studied the magical arts never shared their secrets with outsiders without their master’s command. So he did not ask, but instead changed the subject: “They seem to call you Second Lady?”

The woman smiled. “It’s just a nickname. I’ve loved magic since I was little and dreamed of living in the Moon Palace one day. I talked of it so much that everyone started calling me Second Lady. It has a pleasant ring to it, don’t you think?”

Her candor reminded Chu Youcai of her vibrant spirit—so different from the cold reserve of the Shangguan maiden. Yet, his curiosity only deepened. At last, he asked, “Second Lady, your flute was tinged with a sorrow that could not be dispelled. May I ask why?”

She answered without hesitation. “I have no reason to hide it from you. I traveled a great distance not only to hunt down those mountain bandits, but also because of the locust plague that looms.”

She paused, then continued: “The locusts are advancing from the south and are now close to Yanzhou City. In three days, they’ll be upon us. When that happens, not only will the refugees outside the city perish, but even those within the walls may not survive.”

A chill ran through Chu Youcai. “If they know the locusts are coming, won’t the city hold a Literary Gathering against the plague?”

Whenever disaster struck, the scholars and officials of every city would join forces—droughts were met with rain-invoking ceremonies, while locust swarms were repelled by Literary Gatherings, using the power of cultivated intellect to weaken the calamity.

Second Lady shook her head. “These locusts are unusually fierce. Even with all my magic, I can barely destroy a hundred before my strength is spent. If the scholars underestimate them, they may suffer a complete rout.”

She shook her head again. “Those scholars are too proud for their own good. If only they paid the price alone! But Yanzhou City is unprepared—it may not survive this disaster.”

Now Chu Youcai understood the source of her sorrow. No wonder even her bright spirit could not drive it away.

Second Lady went on, almost to herself: “There is, however, a hermit to the east of the city named Liu. He possesses a cursed treasure capable of casting a great concealment spell, which can temporarily make the locusts lose their target. But the spell drains ten years’ worth of cultivation. Unless I offer him a ten-year-old Polygonum root to help him restore his strength, he won’t agree. The root is terribly expensive, and I have only managed to gather a little over half the money so far…”

Hearing of all that Second Lady had done, traveling so far and worrying herself sick for the sake of the people, Chu Youcai felt a surge of respect. Without hesitation, he handed her the two hundred thousand tael banknote he was carrying. “I recently came by a sum of ill-gotten wealth. I was wondering how best to use it to help the refugees—this seems the perfect opportunity. Would this be enough?”

Second Lady laughed heartily. “Heaven does not disappoint the diligent! This is almost exactly what I need. In that case, I shall accept it.”

Chu Youcai offered the money with sincerity, and Second Lady received it with frank generosity. Neither felt the need for ceremony—the gesture seemed as natural as if they had been friends for years.

Second Lady added, “If there’s any left over, I’ll return it to you.”

Chu Youcai shook his head. “If there’s extra, use it to resettle the refugees.”

“Very well,” Second Lady agreed, then sighed. “You remind me so much of an old friend—like you, he was upright and noble, always worrying about the people. Had the two of you met, you would surely have become kindred spirits. But he was too often entangled in worldly affairs…”

Chu Youcai smiled faintly. “And you remind me of a heroine I once knew—though she was cold and distant, keeping everyone at arm’s length, while you are open-hearted and magnanimous.”

Second Lady’s expression suddenly changed. “Are you speaking of Shangguan Wanru?”

Chu Youcai’s heart skipped a beat. “You know her, Second Lady?” So that was her name, he thought.

Second Lady’s face took on a look of admiration. “Know her? That’s hardly enough to describe it. Her brilliance…” She broke off, then said gravely, “Much has passed since those days. After what befell her, it’s remarkable that she can endure as she does…”

Chu Youcai hadn’t expected Second Lady to speak so admiringly of the Shangguan girl. His curiosity was piqued, and he could not help but ask, “What happened back then?”

He had the distinct feeling he was on the threshold of learning a great secret.