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Chapter 46: Miss Song Plays Chinese Harp

Disconcerted noise blared out from the zither, echoing throughout the room causing everyone present to frown slightly.

The tunes from the strings were tilting and clear, but the melody was horrendous.

Hearing this out of countenance melody, naturally, everyone assumed that Song Wuyou actually did not know how to play.

Several madams that were part of Mrs. Song’s close-knit circle couldn’t wait to jump on Song Wuyou the moment they heard the ‘melody’.

“Forget it, forget it, if you don’t know just say so. Why need to insist and end up torturing my eardrums?”

“She’d never change, always act like she is God’s gift.”

“Simply scratch a few strings is also called as knowing how to play~?”


Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Song Jiumei simply stood there with a proud, conceited smile.

Glaring sternly in the direction of those several madames, Song Wuyou remarked, “Who said I don’t know how to play? I was merely testing just now.”

While saying that, Song Wuyou chanced a look at Gu Yanhao.

Gu Yanhao’s eyes were like a pair of sharp icicles as he looked at her with a poker face.

‘Hehe, he must be very angry now?’

The guests didn’t only think Song Wuyou was arrogant, she was also ignorant. Judging by the way she had boasted earlier, it surely gave the impression of someone that loves the limelight and showing off.

“If you really know how to, then quickly play ah! We’re anxiously waiting to hear your play~.” One of the madams exclaimed with a sneer. Her voice carried a tone of schadenfreude waiting for someone’s impending humiliation as she urged Song Wuyou.

Song Wuyou retorted, “What’s the need to hurry? At least, let me have a good look at this zither first.”

Song Wuyou looked down as if she was admiring the zither, though in reality, she was trying to recall the song she had often played in her previous life.

After days of endless battle, when they could finally return to the barracks for a brief rest, she liked to play something called ⟪The Last Flag of Banana Leaf⟫ for the all her army brothers. This song had a harmonious melody yet at the same time, it ignites the passion in people’s heart, conveying their longing for home at the battlefront.

After being conferred as an Imperial Consort, she had often played a different score, the ⟪Night Rain⟫.

⟪Night Rain⟫ carried a melancholy tune, thus every time she played that song she would always end up feeling depressed.

Under public scrutiny, she was not willing to play ⟪Night Rain⟫ and bare her weaker side to everyone in the room.

“Wuyou, this zither is very complicated, even I can only understand it a little. So it’s alright if you can’t play it, we definitely won’t make fun of you.” After seeing Song Wuyou had not taken another move after a quite some time, Song Jiuyue tried to console her with an understanding tone.

On the surface, she was helping Song Wuyou out from a tricky situation whereas the hidden meaning of her words was actually accusing Song Wuyou of being too prideful.

Song Wuyou slowly raised her face, neither angry nor impatient as she only smiled brightly at Song Jiuyue, and responded, “I also only know a little.”

“Come down, don’t make a scene anymore!” Song Nan could not bear to watch this willful girl smearing his face anymore, and snapped at Song Wuyou.

Song Wuyou lifted up her chin and swept a glance across all the people present in the room.

Other than Old Grandfather Gu looking at her amiably and Gu Yanhao’s icy cold expression, everyone else in the room was clearly snickering and laughing at her.

Song Wuyou secretly said to the original host, ‘It’s time to let them know that you are not a straw bag.’

Finally, Song Wuyou’s gaze fell on Gu Yanhao once again.

Hadn’t you always thought Song Jiuyue was way much better than me in every way?

A slight smile hung on Song Wuyou’s lips as her ten fingers danced ethereally across the strings.

As she played, she maintained a faint smile while looking at Gu Yanhao. That gaze of hers was so indifferent, cold, and proud.

Gu Yanhao’s brows creased a little. This woman, why was she looking at him with this kind of expression?

Why was her gaze so cold, and even laced with hate…

Was it an illusion?

Did he see wrongly?

What happened next did not allow Gu Yanhao much time to ponder. Because, as Song Wuyou’s slender fingers danced across the strings, gentle melodious notes reverberated.

When the song started, the entire room quieted down.

Soft notes floated to the air, charming, mesmerizing as if it came from a flute instead.

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