Chapter 120: Prelude to the Melody of Water, When Will the Moon Be Bright

Page 1 of 3

At once, Stepmom was stunned by his words.

What did this have to do with me?

With a gentle smile, she said, “It’s all right. I don’t blame you.”

Ning Zheng and Ning Cai also looked at Shen Xian in confusion.

Only Zhou Yanshi, Xu Zijian, and Jiang Tianji wore thoughtful expressions.

Shen Xian smiled, then began:

“Ten years have passed since life and death parted us,
Yet though I do not deliberately recall you, I can never forget.”

The moment those lines were spoken, Ning Zheng and Ning Cai’s expressions changed.

Ning Zheng’s late wife—Ning Cai’s biological mother—had died exactly ten years ago.

Though I do not deliberately recall you, I can never forget.

Ning Zheng admitted that he never deliberately dwelled on his late wife. Stepmom’s arrival had soothed the pain in his heart. But could he truly forget her?

Never.

Those memories were like marks carved into the depths of his heart, impossible to erase.

Even now, whenever Ning Zheng rose in the morning and saw Stepmom bustling about in the kitchen, the image of his late wife would begin to overlap with hers.

Sometimes, when the two of them went shopping together, those memories would surge into his mind of their own accord.

Ten years had passed since life and death parted them; though he did not deliberately recall her, he could never forget.

Those few simple words fell like a heavy hammer, striking the hearts of the older relatives present.

The younger ones, however, did not understand.

Stepmom understood. She first glanced at Shen Xian, then turned to Ning Zheng.

Sure enough, memories had appeared on Ning Zheng’s face.

Her eyes gradually dimmed with sorrow.

Ning Cai’s heart ached.

Did Stepmom love Ning Zheng?

Very much.

Stepmom had originally been opposed to marriage and intended to remain single for the rest of her life. Later, taking pity on Ning Cai, she began looking after her.

And while caring for Ning Cai, she had also fallen in love with Ning Zheng.

Women’s possessiveness was always strong.

Even someone as selfless as Stepmom would feel a pang of bitterness upon seeing the man she loved carrying another woman in his heart.

Shen Xian naturally noticed the sorrow in Stepmom’s eyes as well.

Ning Cai sighed and gave Shen Xian’s hand a gentle squeeze, signaling him to stop.

But Shen Xian merely said, “Don’t worry. I’ll help you resolve this knot in your hearts today.”

Ning Cai did not understand.

Stepmom did not understand.

No one present understood.

Shen Xian slowly continued:

“A lonely grave lies a thousand miles away; nowhere can I speak of all this desolation. Even if we were to meet again, I fear you would not recognize me—with dust upon my face and frost upon my temples.”

Page 1 of 3

Page 2 of 3

Once those lines were spoken, everyone understood that Shen Xian had written the poem from Ning Zheng’s perspective.

The mention of a thousand miles echoed the ten years from the opening lines.

After Ning Zheng’s wife died, she had been buried far away. Because of his demanding work, Ning Zheng rarely visited her grave. To call it a lonely grave a thousand miles away was hardly an exaggeration.

Ning Zheng sat in his chair, his eyes clouded with countless thoughts.

Even the younger people could sense the poem’s sorrow.

Jiang Tianji, too, sank into his memories, as though he had recalled something from the distant past.

“Last night, in a dream, I suddenly returned home. There by the little window, you were combing your hair. We looked at each other without a word; only tears fell in endless streams. I know where, year after year, my heart will break—in the moonlit night, upon that little hill of pines.”

When the second stanza ended, the dining room fell utterly silent.

Ning Zheng lifted his head. The poem had expressed everything in his heart.

Stepmom’s eyes were red.

More than once, Ning Zheng had called out his late wife’s name in his sleep.

What one thinks of by day appears in one’s dreams at night. Ning Zheng had dreamed of his late wife many times, recalling the happiness they had once shared.

No one spoke. The atmosphere was oppressive and still.

Tears gradually shimmered in Ning Cai’s almond-shaped eyes as well.

After a long while, Zhou Yanshi finally said, “The emotion in this poem is sincere and profoundly moving. It is truly a rare elegy for the dead.”

Jiang Tianji was silent for a moment. “The quality of this poem is superb—of the highest order. Among all the great writers at home and abroad today, not one could surpass it.”

Whether it was the researchers at the institute or Ruan Bo and the others from the Poetry Association, they all felt that the gap between themselves and Shen Xian was far greater than they had imagined.

The mood grew heavy. Stepmom said nothing, merely lowering her head and drinking her soup.

Ning Cai sighed inwardly once more.

Shen Xian, Shen Xian… You have always been so perceptive when it comes to people. How could you make such a clumsy mistake?

Ye Yuning, however, was somewhat indignant.

Today was the Mid-Autumn Festival, a day for reunion. Stepmom was right there, so why had he brought up Ning Cai’s biological mother?

“I’m sorry, Auntie,” Shen Xian said sincerely.

Stepmom shook her head. “It’s all right.”

Ning Zheng withdrew from his thoughts and looked at Shen Xian. This was the second time he had truly studied him.

The first had been when they initially met.

He had to admit that Shen Xian possessed an excellent bearing. He was tall, handsome, and slender rather than bulky. He was polite and well-mannered, and there was discernment in his eyes. If Ning Cai stayed with him, she would not be mistreated.

But the crucial problem was that the young man had neither money nor power.

Years later, Ning Cai would become a senior official governing an entire region, her words capable of shaping the policies of a city—or even a province. Yet you, a grown man, would remain an ordinary musician of no particular distinction.

Could such a difference in status be considered reasonable? Symmetrical? Well matched?

How would other people look at you?

And how would they look at Ning Cai?

“To express my apology to Auntie, I have another poem to dedicate to her,” Shen Xian said.

“This poem is only for Auntie.”

“It is still centered on the bright moon, autumn longing, and the Mid-Autumn Festival.”

Page 2 of 3

Page 3 of 3

Shen Xian finished speaking.

Everyone looked up at once.

There was more?

The poem about ten years of separation had already shattered the psychological defenses of Wu Qiong, Ruan Bo, and the others. And now he was going to recite another?

Without the slightest pause, Shen Xian began to recite an immortal masterpiece:

“When did the bright moon first appear?
I raise my wine and ask the heavens above.
I do not know, in the celestial palace,
What year it is tonight.

I long to ride the wind and return there,
Yet fear the jeweled towers and jade halls
Would be too cold at such lofty heights.
I rise and dance with my own shadow—
How could it compare with life among mortals?

The moon turns above the vermilion tower,
Slips low across the carved windows,
And shines upon the sleepless.
It should hold no grudge,
So why does it grow full whenever we part?

Human beings know sorrow and joy, reunion and separation;
The moon waxes and wanes, grows full and fades.
These things have never been perfect since ancient times.

May we all live long lives,
And share the beauty of the moon
Though separated by a thousand miles.”

The moment the poem ended, everyone present was struck as though by thunder. Their minds rang with the shock.

Jiang Tianji even sprang to his feet. His gaze, sharp as that of a tiger or wolf, fixed on Shen Xian, and his eyes were filled with indescribable astonishment.

Astonishment.

Incredulity.

And, above all, disbelief.

Then his body began to tremble with excitement.

Xu Zijian first looked as though he had been struck by lightning, his eyes vacant. Then he too abruptly rose to his feet, staring at Shen Xian in sheer horror.

Yes—horror.

Someone in this world had actually written a moon poem so exquisite!

Every line could stand as an immortal saying.

Especially:

“Human beings know sorrow and joy, reunion and separation;
The moon waxes and wanes, grows full and fades.
These things have never been perfect since ancient times.”

And:

“May we all live long lives,
And share the beauty of the moon
Though separated by a thousand miles.”

“Excellent! Excellent! Excellent!”

“What a magnificent poem!”

“It is truly unimaginable that, in this age, someone could still write a Mid-Autumn poem so pure, graceful, grand, and majestic!”

“This poem may well be unmatched by anything that came before and anything that will come after. Every Mid-Autumn poem written by later generations will pale beside it!”

“Shen, you are a genius of the highest order!”

Zhou Yanshi rose to his feet and praised the poem again and again.

Page 3 of 3