Chapter 18
Meilin
The courtyard garden was remarkably warm for early spring, so Meilin set her zither outside along with Sandy’s for their daily lesson. As her young pupil showed her the results of her practicing, Meilin’s thoughts drifted.
The trip to Hanshan Temple had not turned out as she’d hoped.
Her conversation with Master Wei was lovely, but it had led to a fight with Ailin worse than any argument they’d ever had before.
Meilin said things she didn’t mean; Ailin had literally walked out of the room.
The tension between them was so obvious that Mama talked to Meilin about it after everyone else in the house had gone to bed.
Meilin sighed. She seemed to always be hurting Ailin lately.
There was no excuse for that. She still believed Ailin was wrong for keeping her relationship with Enze a secret, but it didn’t matter.
Between sisters, what mattered was not who was right, but how they made each other feel.
Her damaged relationship with Ailin was a loose zither string that sounded wrong no matter how it was plucked.
“Was my playing all right, Teacher Meilin?” Sandy asked innocently.
With another twinge of guilt, Meilin realized she had missed a whole line of Sandy’s “Flowing Water.” She should have been paying more attention.
As Meilin thought of encouraging words that would not be too vague, footsteps sounded near the arched gate of the courtyard.
Master Wei appeared and walked straight to her, taking her hands in his. Hair strayed from his topknot as if he had come in a hurry. “I’m so glad I found you.”
Meilin’s mind stopped working, and her heart thumped at his touch. While she was always happy to see Master Wei, it wasn’t right to let personal matters interfere with her student’s time, especially when Master Wei seemed so agitated. She wondered what had disturbed his usually unruffled calm.
Master Wei continued without waiting for Meilin to respond. “Unfortunately, I have to leave for Hangzhou immediately. I regret not having more time to explain, but I wanted to see you one last time before I go.”
Meilin felt a flash of panic. While it was strange for Master Wei to enter her family’s private courtyard, it was even stranger for him to be leaving Suzhou so suddenly.
It didn’t make sense. Not when The Romance of the Zither was set to open in a few weeks, and certainly not after their recent exchange in sentiments.
“What’s the matter? How long will you be gone?”
His smile reminded her of a spiderweb before a broom—-delicate and endangered. “Too long for my liking. I’m afraid I won’t be able to see you again for quite some time.”
“But you are coming back?” She could wait a lifetime if it meant being with the man she loved.
“I will write to you as soon as I can.” He stroked the line of her jaw.
Flames spread from the trail his fingers traced. Then Meilin remembered that Sandy was present. As she glanced toward the little girl, Master Wei’s eyes flicked away, too, and he withdrew his hand. Meilin felt both relieved and disappointed as the heat of the moment dissipated.
Master Wei took a step back and bowed. “Farewell, beautiful Meilin.”
His departure out of the courtyard seemed to take all the air with him. Meilin’s chest tightened as her heart shattered.
“Teacher Meilin, are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.” Meilin gasped for breath. She could not lose her composure before the child. That would be unfair.
“I’m glad that man is gone now,” Sandy said matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?” Meilin thought she misheard.
“My uncle says he’s a bad man, and I’m not supposed to be near him.”
“Is that so?” Meilin knew Captain Bai was a protective guardian, but filling a child’s mind with prejudice seemed excessive.
“Did that man make you sad, Teacher Meilin? You look like you’re about to cry.”
“Do I?” Meilin blinked her eyes several times. How embarrassing that Sandy had noticed!
Sandy pulled at the handkerchief pinned to her blouse in case she had a runny nose. “I wish I could let you borrow this.”
“That is very sweet of you, but I’ll be fine.” Meilin smiled through the tears that threatened to fall. Her heart pulled toward where Master Wei had gone, but there was still the rest of Sandy’s zither lesson to get through.
“We can end early today if you need, ma’am. My uncle isn’t working today, so I can go straight home from here.”
Though Meilin appreciated Sandy’s thoughtfulness, she couldn’t stand the idea of sending the child home early.
Captain Bai would certainly ask questions, and once he found out that Master Wei interrupted Sandy’s lesson, he might be disappointed with Meilin’s teaching.
That possibility was worse than holding back her emotions for another half hour.
She shook her head. “Let’s keep working on your song. We need to make up for the time we missed when we had our visitor.”
Sandy obediently followed Meilin’s suggestion, for which she was grateful.
Music, at least, gave her something to focus on besides the devastating news of Master Wei’s departure.
Even so, perhaps “focus” was too strong a word.
Meilin could barely hold herself together as she demonstrated how to play the next notes of the song she was teaching.
“Flowing Water” was the second half of one of the most famous pieces in existence.
It was the song that cemented the legendary friendship of master zitherist Bóyá and the humble woodcutter Zǐqī.
It was the test through which Zǐqī proved that he understood Bóyá’s music perfectly, no matter what he played.
As Sandy plucked her way through the song, Meilin thought about the legend’s ending, in which Bóyá broke his zither after learning of Zǐqī’s death.
Nobody was dying here, but the uncertainty of the future felt as distressing as death. The jade tiger pendant felt heavy on the skin next to her heart.
She loved Master Wei, and yet, he’d left without a word on when he would return. She didn’t know what that meant. Betrothal gifts didn’t matter to her, but commitment did, and if Master Wei wasn’t committed enough to make her a promise, did that mean he didn’t love her as much as she thought?
Surely that’s not the case.
Later, when Captain Bai came to pick up Sandy, he stared at her face longer than necessary. “Are you all right, Miss Meilin?” he asked, concern in his voice.
Meilin felt herself wilting under his scrutiny but decided to stay strong. “I’m perfectly fine. Sandy played beautifully during her lesson today.”
“Master Wei came by to say that he’s leaving for a long time, so Teacher Meilin was sad for a bit.” Sandy’s bluntness dashed Meilin’s hopes of avoiding the issue.
Captain Bai’s face turned into a storm cloud. “Is that true?”
Meilin tried to evince calm despite her turbulent feelings. Unlike earlier, there was no point in hiding what had happened. She had made up for the time lost during the interruption to Sandy’s lesson, so she didn’t need to be ashamed. “It is true.”
Captain Bai’s brows knitted together. He didn’t move when Sandy picked up her own zither, a task he usually helped with to avoid damaging the expensive instrument.
Meilin moved to help the child instead, carefully wrapping the zither in a silk bag and then holding it out to Captain Bai.
He abruptly snapped back to attention. “Are you upset about him leaving, Miss Meilin? Because . . .” He trailed off as if the words had stuck in his throat.
“Do you need a drink?”
“No. I—” He paused again. The hesitation was obviously deliberate this time, and there was a strange swirl of anguish in his dark eyes. Was he pitying her? The thought made Meilin uncomfortable.
She couldn’t stand it anymore. She wanted respect from him, not pity. “Please don’t worry about me. The matter does not concern you.”
Captain Bai winced, but he quickly recovered as he took Sandy’s zither. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you in any way. How-ever, please know that I am always willing to listen and help.”
Meilin looked away. He was pleasant only when talking about music. When he showed personal interest in her, it was . . . too much. His concern made it hard for her to think. She vowed to never ask for his help.
Meilin’s zither sounded out of tune no matter how much she fiddled with the pegs. The wrongness of her music matched the depressingly bitter wind sweeping through the courtyard where she played alone.
For days, she had waited for news from Master Wei, but her only reward was thirdhand gossip from Grand-mother Jiang.
According to her, the reason why Master Wei had to hurry away from Suzhou was a dispute regarding his inheritance.
He had long been recognized as the heir of his childless uncle, but when news came of his uncle’s youngest concubine giving birth to a son, Master Wei’s position was suddenly threatened.
Meilin thought Grand-mother Jiang’s story was ridiculous.
Like Meilin’s muddled chords, the idea of Master Wei leaving Suzhou for a reason as trivial as inheritance money did not make sense.
It wasn’t as if his livelihood and happiness depended on his uncle.
He had his writing, and Meilin was willing to support him.
There was no reason for him to worry so much about money.
Familiar shuffling footsteps announced Ailin’s approach. “It’s time for dinner.”
Without pausing her playing, Meilin looked up.
While Meilin was in turmoil, Ailin looked as serene as a bodhisattva. Though her sister hadn’t said anything since Master Wei’s departure, her attitude showed condescension.
Meilin lost her appetite. “Can you tell everyone I can’t make it? I’m not feeling well.”
Ailin took a few steps closer and set her hands on Meilin’s zither strings, forcibly stopping her music. “You’ll feel worse if you don’t eat. Come.”
“How would you know how I’m feeling?” Meilin asked angrily. Ailin was always so presumptuous, acting like she knew best, regardless of the situation.