In his moment of joy, the blow almost knocked over the paper lantern on the desk. A keen-eyed Lan Wangji deftly caught it in time.
“Sect Leader Lan, is there a song in the Collection of Spirit Turmoil that can disturb someone’s mind, agitate their primordial spirit, unsettle their vital energy, and make them easily prone to anger?” Wei Wuxian asked.
“…There should be,” Lan Xichen granted.
“Jin Guangyao’s spiritual power isn’t high enough to take someone’s life within seven notes, and that method is far too conspicuous anyway. He wouldn’t choose a song that kills directly.” Wei Wuxian worked out his thoughts aloud. “But if he spent three straight months playing spiritual purification music under the pretext of helping Chifeng-zun calm his mind…then is it possible for such a song to act as a catalyst for Chifeng-zun’s eventual outburst, like a slow-acting poison?”
“…Yes,” Lan Xichen answered.
“Then,” Wei Wuxian continued, “my deduction makes sense. The section that didn’t belong to Cleansing came from the lost page of the Collection of Spirit Turmoil. All the wicked songs of Dongying documented in the Collection of Spirit Turmoil are complicated and hard to learn. He didn’t have time to copy it out in the Room of Forbidden Books, so he had no other option but to tear—no, that’s not right. Jin Guangyao can memorize something with a single glance. He tore the page out not because he wouldn’t be able to recall it but because he didn’t want to leave proof behind. To ensure that, if his scheme was unraveled one day or if he was caught red-handed, there would be no way to determine the song’s origin.
“Everything he’s ever done, he’s done with extreme caution. He played the real version of Cleansing when you were present. Chifeng-zun wasn’t a man who was interested in artistic pursuits, but he had a basic impression of the melody from hearing Sect Leader Lan play it. Because of that, Jin Guangyao didn’t dare play the wicked song outright. Instead, he went to significant trouble to fuse two tunes with very different styles and completely opposite effects. To think he could knit them into a seamless whole—his musical talent is outstanding! My guess is that he infused very little spiritual energy when playing Cleansing but went all out when he got to the bit from the Collection of Spirit Turmoil. Chifeng-zun wasn’t familiar with this cultivation technique. He would never have been able to tell that Cleansing had been altered by Jin Guangyao into a deadly, diabolical ditty!”
After a long stretch of silence, Lan Xichen said quietly, “…Although he frequents the Cloud Recesses, I have never told him of the Library Pavilion’s Room of Forbidden Books.”
“Sect Leader Lan,” Wei Wuxian said. “Excuse me for being blunt, but Lianfang-zun was an undercover agent in the Wen Clan of Qishan’s Nightless City during the Sunshot Campaign. And an exceptional one, at that. He was able to find Wen Ruohan’s secret chamber and sneak into it unnoticed to memorize all the maps and records there, then transcribe the information from memory to send back to Golden Carp Tower. To him, the Lan Library Pavilion’s Room of Forbidden Books really is…nothing.”
Lan Xichen stared at the fragmented melody in his hand for a moment, then said, “I…will think of a way to test this.”
“Xiongzhang?” Lan Wangji asked.
“When da-ge passed away, the Siege of the Burial Mounds had already concluded and Wei-gongzi was no longer with us,” Lan Xichen said. “If the tests prove your deductions to be true and not a fabrication, if they prove this fragmented score is capable of disturbing the mind, I…”
“Zewu-jun,” Wei Wuxian said, “testing a wicked song on a living person probably goes against the Lan Clan’s precepts.”
“I will test it on myself,” Lan Xichen stated.
As the head of the Lan Clan of Gusu, to say something so preposterous made it obvious his mind was in turmoil.
Lan Wangji raised his voice slightly. “Xiongzhang!”
Lan Xichen pressed his hand to his forehead.
“Wangji,” he said quietly, sounding pained. “The Jin Guangyao I know is a completely different person from the Jin Guangyao the two of you know—and the Jin Guangyao the rest of the world knows! All these years, he has always…suffered in silence to do his duty. He cares about all living beings. He is respectful of his superiors and compassionate to his subordinates. I have always firmly believed that the world’s denunciation of him is born from misunderstanding and that the person I know is the real him. You want me to believe that everything this man has shown me has been a lie? That he plotted to kill one of his own sworn brothers and that I was a pawn in his scheme, who even lent him a helping hand… Would you please allow me the chance to exercise some prudence before passing judgment?”
Lan Xichen had been mindful of the bad blood between Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, wanting them to bury the hatchet and reconcile. That was why he had taught Jin Guangyao purification music and asked him to calm Nie Mingjue’s heart and mind on his behalf. Who could possibly have predicted that his good intentions would play into Jin Guangyao’s schemes? How was he to live with himself?
The three did not speak again. It was only after they left the Library Pavilion that Lan Wangji broke the silence.
“I will go see shufu.”
Lan Xichen had been quiet but replied to this. “I will take Wei-gongzi back. You may join us later.”
He led Wei Wuxian along the Cloud Recesses’ white stone paths back to the small, remote, gentian-surrounded cottage deep in the recesses of the clouds.
“Does Lan-xiansheng know that Hanguang-jun…” Wei Wuxian asked when they reached the door.
“Shufu has only just awoken,” Lan Xichen replied. “I instructed everyone not to tell him too much.”
If Lan Qiren found out what he and Lan Wangji had done at Golden Carp Tower, he’d surely be rendered comatose with fury once more after only just waking.
“It’s been tough on Lan-lao-qianbei,” Wei Wuxian said.
“It has indeed been tough on shufu.” Lan Xichen agreed. Out of the blue, he asked, “Wei-gongzi, do you know what this house is?”
“Why does Zewu-jun think I’d know?” Wei Wuxian asked curiously.