Pingting began to chuckle, then struggled to restrain her smile.

The heavy snow seemed to mock the metamorphosis of life.

The day's loneliness was something that no one needed to care about, but Chu Beijie had to.

He shouldn't disregard it.

She gazed at the hourglass once more, watching the time slipping grain by grain. The person she wanted to see did not come. She had endured all sorts of coldness in these eight months yet she had not seen a smile nor heard any warm words. Why was there nothing in return?

"Hongqian."

Hongqian stepped through a side door, asking, "What would you like, Miss?"

Pingting lowered her head, examining her slender fingers.

"Find the Duke." She articulated each word carefully, with a pause after each. "I want to borrow the qin."

The qin was quickly borrowed, and Moran personally carried and prepared it, saying, "If Miss would like to play qin to relieve her boredom, play something light. If it's complex or mind-probing, please don't play at all."

"Where's the Duke?"

"The Duke is..." Moran avoided her gaze, "is in his office doing paperwork."

"Is he busy today?"

Moran was silent for a long time before he replied with a single word. "Yes."

Pingting nodded her head. "I understand. As for the qin, I'll return it afterwards."

As Moran left, Hongqian tried to light the incense. Pingting interrupted her. "No need, I'll do it myself."

She personally broke the incense, lit it, and brought the water. She carefully dipped her hands, slowly patted them dry and sat at the qin.

Pingting positioned herself. With a small smile, she placed her scallion like fingers onto the qin, calmly tuning a few notes. She combined a vibrato and a trill, creating a startling agitation as if an armoured cavalry units rushed from within. The entire room instantly quieted down.

Pingting was on a verge of laughter yet her face was solemn, her fingers anxious. Within a moment, raging battle cries, neighing horses, and thundering drums engulfed the surroundings shook the skies. The listening Hongqian's face was pale as she tightly clutched to the cloth covering her chest, completely devoid of energy.

Chu Beijie was not to blame; it was her own fault.

It was she who blocked Chu Beijie's movement and it was she who said, "That promise still stands. Please let Pingting follow Duke to the ends of the earth, my honour is decided by Duke and my death decided by Duke."

She had held out her hand, which Chu Beijie took.

From thereon, her honour, life and death, was not hers but his.

She thought she'd endured enough.

Since last spring, all she received was a back view with no lingering feelings. She had endured for eight months and finally given up on this day, a day she dearly hoped to have some affection. She would endure anything for a phrase, an expression, or even for a single trace of the person she loved.

It was a pity, but there was nothing at all.

The qin sound gradually calmed as if the sounds of war had come to an end and the few surviving bloodstained horses stood on the battlefield while a fire lightly burned a fallen flag. It was utterly desolate.

Thick sweat oozed out of Pingting's forehead, yet she refused to give up. She struggled to finish the remaining notes. Her upper body swayed slightly before crumpling to gravity.

Hongqian was too shocked by the qin sound and had not yet recovered. A figure rushed into the room, catching hold of Pingting with one hand and the placing the other on top of the qin to cease its sound.

Pingting could only feel someone supporting her and felt her heart throb with excitement as she turned. The light in her eyes suddenly dimmed as she pursed her lips. "Let go." She struggled to get up. A pang of dizziness instantly washing over yet she refused to make any sound.

Moran hurriedly let go, reasonably saying, "The Duke is currently working outside this room. Miss' qin sound...is too loud."

Pingting's expression was tired. She laughed bitterly. "I am so sorry about that."

Moran then added, "The Duke also reminds that Miss is borrowing this qin. Since Miss has already played a few pieces, it's time to take it back."

"Moran, I want to see the Duke."

Moran hesitated for a moment as if listening to the surroundings. He waited for a while before gritting his teeth. "The Duke is very busy. He will come in the evening as usual."

"I have something important that I must tell him." Pingting stressed every word. "I must clarify all of the misunderstandings he currently has."

Moran hesitated for a while again, but there was no sound to be heard. This time, even he seemed a little disappointed himself, and sighed as he repeated, "The Duke, he...he will come in the evening as usual."

Pingting's eyes flicked over to Moran who seemed to be afraid of her gaze. He turned away. Pingting lowered her voice. "You can take it back. Thank the Duke for me." She could no longer take the weight of her body and gripped the chair for support as she slowly sat down.

Moran picked up the qin and spun out of the room.

Chu Beijie was not in his office. He was standing in the middle of the raging snowstorm. His body stood, determined and fixed like iron as if completely unaware of the snow around him.

"Duke, I have retrieved the qin." Moran passed the qin to him.

A few snowflakes had gotten onto the qin. In Chu Beijie's eyes, it brought an unexpected prickling sensation.

He was regretting it. He shouldn't have given her a qin and shouldn't have listened to the qin's sound. Pingting's last piece fluttered in his heart like an unwavering ghost yet stabbed at his heart like a knife, slicing his flesh into the finest pieces while death lingered. When he heard that final, elegiac piece, he had felt an overpowering devastation, scaring him into a cold sweat.

Without his few remaining threads of reason, he wouldn't have asked Moran to go in. He would have rushed inside himself. He'd pick her up and would severely warn her to never, ever, play such a piece again.

She had enough of life.

She didn't care about life or death. She wanted, with war-like determination, to generously cut her throat and die a tragic death that belonged to anyone but herself.

He deeply hated her but could not stand the idea of losing her.

Moran couldn't help but ask, "Duke, are you really not going to see Miss Bai? Miss Bai said..."

Chu Beijie's gaze was like daggers and tossed the qin at his face, which he caught with a shudder.

Moran hurriedly lowered his head, "I, your servant, deserve death."

A strong gust of wind blew past his ear. He felt something colder than the snow.

It was a while before he heard Chu Beijie's deep voice.

"You can go."

Chu Beijie returned to his office and did not come out again, not even for lunch. Moran was jumpy all day. He uncomfortably waited for two hours in the side room until Hongqian entered with a food container. She asked worriedly, "What are we to do? Miss refuses to eat."

She opened the food container, taking each dish out one by one two different meat dishes, two different vegetable dishes, a dish of pickled radish, and snowy white rice. None were touched.

"I spent ages begging her, but she seemed to be counting the rice grains or something. After picking out a few, she put her chopsticks down and said she was full. If this continues, she'll end up getting sick. The Duke would peel the skin off all of us servants."