Chapter Twenty-Five: The Sound of the Flute

It was an ordinary night. Li Honghui sat in his palanquin, eyes closed in contemplation, when a familiar yet faint sound of a flute drifted to his ears.

He asked casually, "What is that sound?"

His guard looked confused. "My apologies, Your Highness, but I... I hear nothing."

A strange feeling washed over Li Honghui. He gestured, and his subordinates immediately signaled for the carriage to stop. Li Honghui listened intently to the quiet night, identified the direction, and pointed toward a small alleyway. "Go in."

"Yes."

The horses' hooves struck the ground with rhythmic taps, and the creaking of the carriage wheels made the night feel even heavier. After traveling for a while, the flute music seemed to cease, but the air began to carry the scent of burning flames, and a faint crackling sound reached Li Honghui's ears. The horses, sensing the fire, grew restless and refused to move forward.

"Your Highness, shall we proceed?"

The unsettling sensation in Li Honghui's heart grew stronger. He asked, "Do any of you know anyone living in this vicinity?"

The guards exchanged glances and shook their heads. Suddenly, one of them slapped his forehead. "Wait—there was a guard named Chang Wei who was transferred to the palace by your order, Your Highness. I heard he recently settled into a small courtyard somewhere around here."

Li Honghui nodded thoughtfully. "Chang Wei... continue."

As they drew closer, the smell of smoke grew thicker. Li Honghui looked toward the horizon. "Head toward the smoke."

"Yes!"

The whip cracked in the air, landing on the horses' rumps. They bolted forward, and after turning through a few alleys, they indeed found a house engulfed in flames.

"Protect His Highness!"

Li Honghui stepped out of the carriage. His guards drew their swords and formed a protective circle around him. A woman's voice screamed from inside the courtyard, "Help!"

"Go and see."

"Yes!"

One of the guards had barely taken two steps when the wooden door collapsed under the flames. Through the rising inferno, a woman with soot-streaked cheeks ran out in a state of panic. Li Honghui recognized her almost instantly: it was Wen Zhiyan.

"Who goes there!"

"Protect His Highness!"

As swords flashed, Li Honghui shouted, "Stop!"

"Young Master! Help me!"

Wen Zhiyan’s hair was disheveled, and her sleeves were being consumed by the flames. Li Honghui pushed his guards aside to catch her as she stumbled toward him, extinguishing the fire on her clothes with a flick of his sleeve.

"Quick, put out the fire!"

"Yes!"

Several subordinates ran into the courtyard, drawing water from the well to douse the flames; the sound of water hitting the ground echoed loudly.

"Th-thank you, Young Master, for your help."

The woman seemed to realize only then that she was being held by a stranger. She scrambled to pull away, but Li Honghui held her firmly in his arms.

"Are you Wen Zhiyan?"

Li Honghui felt the soft body in his arms stiffen instantly. Her voice trembling, she stubbornly replied, "I beg your pardon, Young Master, but my name is Rose."

"Stop the charade. You are Wen Zhiyan."

"Rose does not know what the Young Master is talking about."

Hasty footsteps echoed from the mouth of the alley. Both Li Honghui and Wen Zhiyan turned to look. In the night, Chang Wei appeared, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath as he sprinted toward them.

The three of them locked eyes. Chang Wei froze, his expression stiff, and he came to a sudden halt. The three stood in a silent standoff.

It was Chang Wei who finally broke the tension. Looking anxious yet trying to appear composed, he approached and bowed to Li Honghui.

"Greetings, Your Highness!"

Li Honghui pointed his chin toward the charred remains of the small house. "Is this your home, Guard Chang?"

Chang Wei swallowed hard. "Yes, Your Highness. It is a place I have just recently settled."

"This woman just ran out of it. Do you know her?"

Chang Wei had intended to claim she was a woman he had redeemed from a brothel, but the man before him was Li Honghui, a Prince. If he were caught in a lie... In a split second, countless thoughts flashed through Chang Wei's mind, but he ultimately chose to tell the truth.

"Your Highness, this is the woman you ordered me to find."

Li Honghui asked, "Why did you not bring her to me?"

Chang Wei knelt on one knee and cupped his hands. "I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness. I only managed to track her down in the last two days. I feared she might be a spy sent by someone else, so I wanted to investigate the situation thoroughly before reporting to you."

"Presumptuous. Slap yourself."

"Thank you for the punishment, Your Highness!"

Chang Wei began to strike his own face, left and right, without mercy.

Several guards returned, carrying buckets. "Reporting to Your Highness, the fire is out!"

"Good. Return to the estate."

"Yes!"

Li Honghui effortlessly picked up Wen Zhiyan in a bridal carry and placed her securely inside the carriage. Wen Zhiyan shifted to the side as Li Honghui entered and took the main seat.

Wen Zhiyan asked cautiously, "Are... are you a Prince?"

"What if I am? And what if I am not? Is it not Miss Wen who refuses to acknowledge her own identity?"

Wen Zhiyan knelt on the carriage floor. "That identity... Rose feared she would not live long enough to claim it."

"When were you found by Chang Wei?"

"Just a few days ago, Your Highness."

"Where have you been hiding all this time?"

Wen Zhiyan gave a mocking laugh. "In this vast world, where can a woman without papers hide?"

Li Honghui’s lips twitched. "Miss Wen, were you truly willing to sink into the life of a courtesan?"

"What does 'willing' matter? And what if I were not?" Tears welled in Wen Zhiyan’s eyes. In the dim light of the carriage, she bared her arms from beneath her sleeves. Her slender, pale skin was marked with distinct scars.

Wen Zhiyan offered no direct answer; she simply lowered her sleeves. "Your Highness is noble; naturally, you cannot know what a woman who has been reduced to an ant must endure to survive."

Raised in the royal household, Li Honghui’s upbringing prevented him from picking at her scars. Instead, he changed the subject: "How did the fire in that courtyard start?"

"I set it."

Wen Zhiyan admitted, "I feared being humiliated by Chang Wei. He had locked the door, and I had no other way out but to burn it open."

Li Honghui asked again, "Was it you playing the flute earlier?"

"You actually heard my flute, Your Highness? What sharp ears you have."

Li Honghui was puzzled. "Why play the flute before setting the fire?"

A trace of sorrow flickered across Wen Zhiyan’s expression. "My mother taught me to play this flute. She said one must maintain one's integrity and never yield, even in death. My mother and my sisters... they had no flute at hand when they died, and could not play this melody."

Wen Zhiyan pulled the jade flute from behind her back, looking down at it, her fingers gently stroking its surface. "Before setting the fire, I thought I might perish. Before death, one must play one last song for oneself."

"Continue playing. Your flute is beautiful."

Whether it was the beautiful night or the dim, cozy light of the carriage, the flames seemed to favor her, casting her face in a particularly striking light. Li Honghui felt an inexplicable desire to rest, to stop keeping his nerves so taut. He wanted to relax.

On the road, every household had long since barred their doors, leaving only one carriage moving slowly along. The melodic sound of the flute accompanied the moonlight, spilling across the entire length of their journey.