38 A Beautiful Instrumen (1/2)

In the vast manor, the moon was covered with clouds, there was complete silence, all the animals had gone into hiding. It was a cold night, there was snow covering the ground. Madam Lin was sitting under a gazebo, with the cold winds blowing the thin curtains that shielded the bare structure.

She was wearing only a thin white robe, sitting in the cold night. Her hair was held up with a simple wooden hairpin, her eyes were staring blankly down at her fingers which were flicking away at the instrument that was on the table. Blood was starting to drip from the strings, onto the beautiful amber wood.

She was sitting with her back straight in a mahogany chair with a matching table that had a guqin on it, the instrument was made of fragrant wood. The table had a small incense burner on it, and the scent of sandalwood rose with the transparent white smoke, disappearing within the night. Madam Lin had been playing this instrument for almost three consecutive days, her body was nearly reaching its limit, but she kept on playing. Her bloodied fingers were crazily flicking at the strings of the instrument.

The music was bold and aggressive, like the sound of a send off to war. It was indeed a beautiful piece and one that was hard to master. The music continued to play, it was as if the person playing did not want to slow down. The music only sounded in the manor, not even having the chance to reach the ears of people beyond the manor.

Outside, the manor, there was a brown falcon spreading its wings and souring the cold night. It was a beautiful bird, that was strong and powerful, the wind and ice were blowing up like a blizzard, but it still pushed through the harsh weather, flapping its wings even more powerful than the last time. Seemingly mesmerized by the tune.

The servants stayed quiet, pretending to not have heard the tune. They did not dare praise it openly, nor judge her actions. They went on with their daily duties as always.

The only person that ever dared to deny her request came to take a look at her out of worry.

”Madam, you should stop before you hurt yourself.” Mister Song gently chided her as his eyes looked down at her bloodied fingers that were plucking on the strings.

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There was no sound from Madam Lin as she continued to pluck at the strings, her eyes overtaken by an empty gaze. Perhaps she did not hear him.

Seeing Madam Lin in this state of mind, mister Song found it unsettling, as he watched her continue to play the same piece over and over again.