Chapter Forty-Seven: The Dragon and Phoenix Zither, Part 1

At dawn, a clear and melodious birdcall roused Fang Guohuan from his sleep. Seeing that daylight had come, he quickly rose, parted the branches, and stepped out of the cave. The forest and grass were filled with fresh vitality; a few rays of sunlight poured through the gaps between the branches, while dewdrops still clung to the leaves. A gentle mist hovered over the woods, and several unknown mountain birds hid among the branches, singing joyously.

Fang Guohuan stretched lazily and smiled, “Waking me this early, thank you!” He took a few deep breaths of the fresh air, feeling his heart and chest expand with ease. He then tightened his trousers, slung his pack over his shoulder, identified the direction, and set off along the old path back out of Yellow Mountain.

As he walked, suddenly the grass beside him rustled, and two wild rabbits leapt out, frolicking ahead. Then a few squirrels slid from one tree branch to another, scampering in the same direction as the rabbits. As Fang Guohuan pondered this, five Yellow Mountain monkeys, elders with young ones in tow, dashed past him. It seemed something ahead was drawing these animals in a hurry, as if beckoning them to a grand gathering.

Curious and somewhat alarmed, Fang Guohuan decided to follow and see for himself. Small creatures kept rushing past his feet in a frantic rush. After advancing some thirty or fifty meters, a faint sound of zither music drifted to his ears. Surprised, he thought, “In these deep mountains and wild valleys, someone is playing the zither in the morning mist—surely a sage living in seclusion.” He quickened his pace, tracing the music along the path.

After walking over a hundred meters, the melody continued far off, unceasing, making it hard to pinpoint its source. At that moment, a chorus of bird calls erupted above him. Looking up, Fang Guohuan saw a flock of mountain birds flying noisily overhead, rushing toward the music’s direction. He marveled, “This zither’s music seems to possess a strange magic, even attracting birds and beasts. Who could this mysterious musician be?” His wonder deepened.

The music led Fang Guohuan through two or three miles of forest before its volume gradually increased. He was astonished—he never imagined that the zither’s sound could carry so far, an almost unbelievable feat.

After another twenty meters, the music became crystal clear, as if whispering in his ear. Ahead, a clearing emerged through the morning mist. Upon a smooth green stone sat a figure in a yellow robe, long hair draped over his shoulders, seated cross-legged. He gently plucked an ancient zither of rustic charm. The music was elegant and serene, perfectly blending with the forest dawn. The melody flowed endlessly, penetrating the surroundings, drifting softly like ripples on a vast lake—at once fluid and still. It resembled countless silken threads emanating from the slender, fair fingers of the player, one end fluttering far away on the breeze, the other firmly held by ten gentle, agile fingers dancing invisibly. Fang Guohuan stood entranced.

Around him, hundreds of animals—birds and beasts alike—had gathered silently among the branches and grass, quietly listening, immersed in an aura of peaceful harmony.

The zither player seemed to sense the presence of a stranger, and with a flick of his fingers, struck a sudden, urgent note. Fang Guohuan suddenly heard the music shift—sharp and intense, like a fierce wind swirling around him. He instinctively raised his sleeve to shield his face, though the forest showed no sign of wind or dust. Though unfamiliar with musical theory, his mastery of the highest realm of chess comprehension allowed him to intuit the meaning behind the yellow-robed man’s music. This was the principle of all-understanding through one connection.

His involuntary gesture caught the player’s notice. The man’s fingers shifted again, releasing a soft, distant melody that floated away. Fang Guohuan felt the music soar into the heavens, drifting beyond the clouds. He naturally tilted his head to admire the sight, as if watching clouds drift by. The player, surprised, thought, “This man hears the strong music and senses the wind and sand; hears the gentle notes and imagines white clouds. Such a kindred spirit to my zither is rare indeed!” He then withdrew his hands, silencing the strings.

Just as Fang Guohuan marveled, the man spoke aloud: “Are you the reincarnation of Zhong Shuqii? You seem to understand the meaning of my music.” Fang Guohuan, returning to his senses from the lingering melody, respectfully cupped his hands and said with great admiration, “Sir, might you be the rebirth of Yu Boya? To play such celestial music and evoke such wondrous realms!”

The yellow-robed man smiled faintly. “Though Boya and Shuqii stood before us now, they would be no different from me.” He continued, “Since you can enter the world of my music, you must be well versed in the five-tone scale and musical laws.”

Fang Guohuan shook his head. “I am utterly ignorant of musical theory. Yet your music is so sublime and moving that one cannot help but sense the wind and sand, the drifting clouds. Your art reaches the level of immortal music.” The man’s face showed astonishment. “If you do not understand theory, how do you perceive the meaning of my music and enter its realm?” Fang Guohuan replied, “Your artistry is peerless; your music is wondrous. One’s spirit is lifted and heart delighted. Feeling your music with my being and understanding its intent, the distinction between self and other dissolves.”

“Feeling and understanding through the realm?” The man was struck. Rising from the great stone, he greeted, “I am Leng Feiling, a recluse of Yellow Mountain. May I ask your name, young brother?” Fang Guohuan was pleased by the familiar tone and answered, “Then you are Brother Leng. I am Fang Guohuan, at your service.” He stepped forward, bowed, and saluted.

Leng Feiling nodded. “It is a great fortune to meet Brother Fang here. Please, sit upon this stone.” Fang Guohuan noted Leng’s majestic bearing, flowing hair, and ethereal demeanor. Claiming to be a recluse of Yellow Mountain, playing the zither alone in the wild—he must be an extraordinary figure. Delighted, Fang Guohuan accepted and sat.

They faced each other. Leng Feiling sighed, “Brother Fang, though you know nothing of music theory, you can feel and understand my music. You are truly a kindred spirit of the zither.” Fang Guohuan replied, “Had I not attained the highest realm of chess—the Heavenly Origin Transformation—I could not have grasped your music’s meaning.”

“Heavenly Origin Transformation?” Leng Feiling was startled. “May I ask what kind of realm this is?” Fang Guohuan said, “My master calls it the supreme realm of chess. I never imagined it could resonate with music as well.” Leng Feiling was amazed. “So you are a master of chess, having attained the Transformation realm! Forgive my lack of respect.”

Fang Guohuan said, “Qin (zither), chess, calligraphy, and painting are the four refined arts. The qin leads them all. Hearing your music today, it seemed like celestial immortal melodies—evoking new realms and great joy, even calling birds and beasts from the forest. Truly, you have reached a transcendent state. I am deeply impressed.”

Leng Feiling laughed. “Brother Fang, you flatter me. Now that we are kindred spirits, let me not keep secrets.” He moved the ancient zither before him. “My wondrous music comes from this instrument.” Fang Guohuan noticed the qin’s dragon-head and phoenix-tail design, a beautiful antique unlike ordinary zithers. Surprised, he asked, “This qin is special, unlike any common one. Does it possess some extraordinary power?”

Leng Feiling said, “This treasured instrument does have a legendary history. Since Brother Fang can enter my musical realm, I will share its story.”

His tone solemn, Leng Feiling began: “This qin, named the Dragon-Phoenix Zither, has dragon and phoenix motifs. In the Spring and Autumn period, in the land of Chu, there once stood a phoenix tree said to be over a thousand years old. The people of Chu revered it as a national treasure, offering many rituals. One day, a sudden thunderbolt struck the tree, burning it to ash, creating ‘Thunderwood.’ Yet a segment of the tree’s heartwood remained unscathed, a marvel to the Chu people. They entrusted this wood to the kingdom’s finest qin craftsman, Kang Yangshu.

“Kang Yangshu was astonished by this ‘divine wood’ and carved the zither’s body in the shape of a dragon’s head and phoenix’s tail, then immersed it in the long flow of the Fen River for seventy-two days. He traveled far to obtain silk from a divine spider for the strings. This silk was extraordinarily strong and resistant to water and fire. After returning, he assembled the instrument on an auspicious day.

“Because the Dragon-Phoenix Zither is infused with water and fire elements, it possesses the power of yin and yang in harmony. Its sound is ethereal, elegant, heroic, and long-lasting—surpassing even the Phoenix Zither, once hailed as the finest in the world. Kang Yangshu presented it to the King of Chu, who said, ‘I do not recognize the He Shi Bi jade, but I cannot do without this Dragon-Phoenix Zither.’ It became the nation’s greatest treasure, entrusted to court musicians.

“However, among the three hundred court qin players, none could master the complete piece. Enraged, the king executed a hundred musicians. My ancestor was among them. His name was Leng Si, a prodigy in qin playing. Seeking justice for a wrongful death, he petitioned the king to allow him to master the Dragon-Phoenix Zither. If he failed within three years, he would forfeit his life. The king consented.

“Leng Si took the zither home, replacing the phoenix qin’s ‘heart’ to stabilize its unstable tones. Day and night, he sat by the instrument, tuning and practicing, his body wasting away, his legs disabled. Later, in meditation, he suddenly comprehended the essence of qin artistry and attained the Way of the qin.

“His family brought him back to the palace, where he performed for the king. His music was spontaneous and divine—clear, mournful, and stirring—echoing for miles. The people of Chu heard it, and the kingdom was moved profoundly.

“Later poets wrote:

‘A thousand-year phoenix tree,
Water and fire harmonize;
Dragon roars, phoenix sings,
Sound reigns over Chu’s palace.’

“The people, hearing this music, united their hearts, and Chu prospered, becoming a dominant power. Later, the king’s misrule led to Qin’s invasion. The Qin offered to spare Chu for ten years if they surrendered the Dragon-Phoenix Zither. Chu refused and was destroyed along with five other states.

“My ancestor, amidst the chaos, fled with the zither into the mountains and forests, living in seclusion, caring only for the qin. Over centuries, the Dragon-Phoenix Zither has been inseparably linked to my family. Only those of Leng blood can truly master its mystical realm and perform its complete composition.

“Throughout dynasties, the treasured qin was passed down. During the Tang dynasty under Emperor Xuanzong, the Dragon-Phoenix Zither was stolen by a great figure. After seven years, the man returned it, having failed to tame its power. He begged my ancestor to play it to soothe his heart. Moved by his dedication, my ancestor performed ‘High Mountains and Flowing Water.’ The man bowed in remorse and left.

“The Dragon-Phoenix Zither came down to me. Due to the world’s corruption and lack of kindred spirits, I withdrew from society with the instrument, living here with mountains and beasts, entertaining myself with its music. Today, to meet Brother Fang, who understands the meaning behind my music, is a rare joy—one that transcends time!”

Fang Guohuan was deeply amazed by the qin’s miraculous legend.

Leng Feiling continued, “The arts of qin and chess have been regarded as immortal by the ancients. From Fuxi’s carving of the qin to Emperor Yao’s placement of the chessboard, though passed down through millennia, only their forms survived, not their spirits. Few have the innate talent to reach their sublime realms. The elegance of qin playing and chess competition is often imitated but rarely fully realized or transformed. Brother Fang, what do you think?”

Fang Guohuan replied, “You speak wisely, Brother Leng. It is easier to learn many skills than to master one. To reach a skill so profound as to connect with heaven, earth, and spirits—that is truly a path to the Great Way. What defines an immortal? I believe it is precisely this.”

Leng Feiling laughed, “Immortals are made by humans as well.”

As they spoke, a sudden strange wind swept across the forest clearing, followed by a pungent stench. The birds and beasts, once drawn by the music, panicked and scattered in all directions.

Leng Feiling’s expression changed drastically. He swiftly positioned the Dragon-Phoenix Zither toward the wind’s source. Fang Guohuan sensed danger, staring in shock as the grass and bushes ahead suddenly collapsed. A giant python appeared, its eyes shining like lanterns, swaying its head and flicking its tongue as it advanced slowly.

Fang Guohuan cried out in alarm, his heart pounding.

Urgently, Leng Feiling said, “Brother Fang, if the music overwhelms you, cover your ears!” With that, he struck a sudden, sharp, piercing note from the zither. The ferocious python, as if struck by a heavy blow, reared back and hesitated.

At first sight of the giant snake, Fang Guohuan was shaken to his core. The fierce, sharp music surged forth, nearly overwhelming him. Yet he steadied himself, channeling the piercing notes through his understanding of the realm, dissipating their power into nothingness.

The python, as thick as a barrel, was stirred into frenzy by the music. Its red tongue flicked between venomous fangs, producing a hissing sound as it lunged forward. Leng Feiling’s fingers danced rapidly on the strings, the melody transforming into a thunderous battle drum, mixed with sharp, piercing cries, like celestial thunder and wild horses charging—a storm unleashed from his fingertips, as if heaven and earth were shattering.

Fang Guohuan felt his soul scatter, heart nearly shattered. He was about to collapse but forgot Leng Feiling’s warning, instead merging his body and mind into this sudden crisis.

The python, overwhelmed by the fierce power, thrashed wildly, swaying its massive body. Trees and grass within dozens of meters were flattened, debris flying everywhere. Leng Feiling suddenly plucked all seven strings with both hands, producing a cataclysmic roar that lifted the snake’s head and body seven or eight meters high, standing like a giant tree trunk.

Then, pressing down on the strings, the music ceased, and silence settled over the forest.

This is the first release of this book.

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