Conquering That Great Demon Lord [Xian Ni Fan Fiction] - Chapter 55: The Melancholy of the Zither

Chapter 55: The Melancholy of the Zither

After teleporting to the Zhao Kingdom, there were still thirty thousand li to Wang Family Village. Wang Lin traveled with Li Muwan on the mosquito beast.

As a mortal, she needed daily food and sleep. Having just awakened, she required even more sleep than ordinary mortals.

Wang Lin held her protectively in his arms while Li Muwan wrapped her arms around his waist. The mosquito beast had flown for a full day without any landing spots in sight, leaving Wang Lin no choice but to let her sleep against him.

Over these days, Li Muwan had gradually accepted and grown familiar with the Wang Lin before her, this familiarity quietly evolving into reliance.

Ten days later, their figures descended into the Wang family courtyard.

The peach trees planted earlier had matured and bloomed, though weeds had overrun the yard again.

Wang Lin set up a Restriction and arranged a Spirit Gathering Array using Top-Grade Spirit Stones. As long as Li Muwan absorbed the universal Spiritual Energy within this courtyard daily, her physical body would remain stable.

Wang Lin brought Li Muwan to kneel before his parents’ memorial tablets.

“Father, Mother, your son has failed – I couldn’t protect Wan’er properly,” his arm still encircling Li Muwan, “but I will definitely find a way to fully awaken Wan’er.”

Tears traced paths down her cheeks as Li Muwan could only hear Wang Lin’s voice without understanding his words, gazing at him with innocent confusion.

Afterwards, Wang Lin tidied the courtyard, clearing the weeds out front. He cleaned and rearranged the room they had previously occupied. Though not skilled in decoration, he remembered Li Muwan’s preferences and refurbished everything accordingly, revitalizing the entire courtyard.

Wang Lin planted flowers and raised some chickens in the yard. Li Muwan, prone to drowsiness, would sometimes follow him around as he worked, playing by herself until she inevitably fell asleep.

Wang Lin would often turn around to find Li Muwan sleeping soundly at the wooden table in the yard. Sometimes she’d be collecting petals beneath the peach blossoms, only to doze off leaning against the tree trunk.

With affectionate indulgence, Wang Lin could only carry her back to their room.

The chickens in the yard grew particularly noisy after noon. When Li Muwan wanted to sunbathe while Wang Lin tended the flowers, she would approach to join him. Midway, the chickens mistook her for bringing food and came flapping toward her.

Before Li Muwan could react, one chicken had already pounced on her. The sudden assault frightened her back several steps, but she could neither speak nor cry out.

The commotion alerted Wang Lin who was weeding nearby. He spun around to see Li Muwan retreating from the chickens, nearly colliding with a pillar. His heart skipped a beat.

Though he hadn’t used Magical Arts for some time, he instantly teleported behind her, steadying the stumbling Li Muwan.

Recognizing the familiar presence, Li Muwan immediately buried herself in his embrace, afraid to look back.

“Wan’er, what happened?” Wang Lin gently patted her back in continuous reassurance.

Li Muwan cast sidelong glances, still fearful the chickens might attack again. Only then did Wang Lin realize she’d been terrified by the poultry.

His heart ached for her yet found the situation somewhat amusing.

He soothed, “Did they peck you? They frightened our Wan’er, didn’t they?”

Receiving no response as Li Muwan couldn’t answer, she only pressed deeper into his embrace, her tightly wrapped arms betraying her fear.

He lifted her onto the corridor platform.

“Stay here, Wan’er. They can’t reach you up here.”

Li Muwan clung to his sleeve, unwilling to let go, so Wang Lin simply brought her inside their room.

He took some picture books from his Storage Bag to comfort her, and she lay on the couch reading them.

Wang Lin gazed thoughtfully at the free-ranging chickens in the yard. Warm sunlight filtered through peach branches as his figure moved beyond the small courtyard.

He cut several bamboo stalks from the grove behind the yard and quietly sat on the corridor steps, shaving them into thin bamboo strips. The shavings scattered across the courtyard, covering the ground with bamboo pieces and leaves.

Li Muwan, who had just woken from a nap after reading picture books, couldn’t find Wang Lin in the house. She peeked half her head out the windowsill, wanting to go out but not daring to.

She could only watch the busy Wang Lin from afar. Always alert, he noticed the gaze from behind and turned his head with tenderness in his eyes.

Seeing Wang Lin look over, Li Muwan hid again.

“Wan’er, come here.”

Wang Lin reached toward the shadow behind the window. Hearing his voice, Li Muwan tentatively revealed half her face again.

She grew curious about the fence he was weaving from bamboo strips.

“Wan’er, don’t be afraid. Come.” Wang Lin extended his hand once more. Li Muwan disappeared from the windowsill again, only to appear standing in the doorway frame. She pressed against the wooden wall and cautiously moved step by step to the pillar behind Wang Lin.

A smile played on Wang Lin’s lips as he shook his head indulgently.

“Wan’er, sit here with me.” He returned to his work.

Li Muwan’s curiosity remained. She reached for a bamboo strip, but Wang Lin stopped her, fearing the sharp edges might hurt her.

“Wan’er, don’t touch. Wait until I finish weaving this. Then they won’t be able to peck you anymore.”

Wang Lin stroked her head, his eyes full of gentleness. “Your health needs these chickens for nourishment. If you weren’t afraid of them, I wouldn’t keep them confined. From now on, they’ll be in the coop, so you can play in the yard without fear.”

Li Muwan didn’t understand his words, recognizing only the name “Wan’er.” She seemed to know this was her name, pausing or turning toward the sound whenever Wang Lin called her. But the rest of his speech remained incomprehensible.

As sunset descended, Wang Lin completed the woven fence and tidied the courtyard. Li Muwan had fallen asleep leaning against the beam pillar. Worried she might catch cold, Wang Lin carried her into the house and gently laid her on the low bed. Her sleeping face was peaceful, long hair spread across the pillow, brows relaxed.

Her pale pink cherry lips slightly parted, releasing even breaths. Warm air touched his palm. Wang Lin stared at her flushed cheeks and tempting red lips, fighting down a sudden impulse.

In the end, he only pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

Since Li Muwan’s consciousness was incomplete, he wouldn’t overstep boundaries or do anything that might harm her. Yet every night he held his beloved wife in his arms. Countless evenings, mad desire urged him to claim more, but reason always restrained him.

He hung a swing chair from the peach branches. During leisure hours, he would hold Li Muwan while swinging there. When she enjoyed it, she would look up and give him a radiant smile.

He fell deeply into these moments, yet his heart felt carved by knives. She should have been able to share these experiences with full awareness. Still, he cherished every secondat least she was alive in his arms, someone real he could hold, not just some elusive Divine Sense or untouchable soul.

Li Muwan leaned against his chest, tugging at his white hair before examining her own black strands. Not understanding why the colors differed, she kept twisting and pulling until she hurt herself and finally stopped.

On the wooden table in the courtyard lay her zither. Over the years, he had never dared to touch its strings, fearing that once the music began, the overwhelming surge of longing and memories would drag him into an abyss of pain, drowning the precious and hard-won happiness he now possessed.

Li Muwan wondered what it was, unable to understand why Wang Lin always looked sorrowful whenever he sat before the zither.

He sat upright before the instrument, his mind echoing with the sound of Li Muwan playing in the Southern Garden, and the graceful, melodious tunes she once produced.

“Senior Brother, Senior Brother…” Li Muwan’s calls drifted by his ears.

“Senior Brother, let Wan’er teach you how to play the zither.”

“Senior Brother, Wan’er will teach you to play.”

“Senior Brother…”

Tears welled in Wang Lin’s eyes as he closed them heartbrokenly, his voice hoarse.

“Wan’er, teach me to play the zither…”

Glistening tears fell intermittently like broken pearls onto his robes.

His long fingers hesitantly touched one of the strings, producing a clumsy note that seemed to pull him forward with an invisible force.

Wang Lin’s mind flashed with the melodies Li Muwan had played, and he imprinted those sounds and rhythms deeply etched in his heart onto the strings.

It was the piece Li Muwan had loved to play most.

Nearby, Li Muwan, who had been chasing butterflies, was drawn by the sound. She stopped and turned to look at Wang Lin’s figure, which was filled with loneliness and desolation.

For some reason, her heart trembled, and a trace of sorrow flickered across her brows before quickly vanishing.

The music drew her closer, and as her figure entered the corner of his vision, Wang Lin abruptly stopped, withdrawing his arm from the zither and reaching out to Li Muwan.

“Wan’er, come here.”

Li Muwan sat between his legs.

“Wan’er, I’ll play the zither for you.”

Li Muwan reached out innocently, and as her fingers touched the strings, they produced a clear, gentle sound. The feeling was familiar, yet she had no memory of it.

She turned her head and looked up at him blankly.

Wang Lin took her hand and plucked the strings again, the music filled with endless sorrow and longing. Though the person in his arms was her, the pain in Wang Lin’s heart could not be soothed.

Tears, summoned by the melody, fell unnoticed even by himself, quietly landing on the back of Li Muwan’s hand. She stared blankly at the droplets as several more fell in succession.

Li Muwan looked up at the man lost in agony above her, unable to perceive his emotions or understand what to do. She simply tilted her head and watched him.

Seeing another tear about to fall, she reached up to wipe it away. The warmth from her fingertips against his cheek brought the immersed man back to his senses.

The music stopped.

Wang Lin looked down at the person in his arms wiping his tears.

A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he wrapped one arm around her entirely and pressed her tear-wiping hand against his cheek.

“Wan’er, Wan’er…” His voice choked with sobs, he buried his face in her embrace, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably as large tears rolled into the collar of her robes.

“Wan’er, I’ve missed you so much…”

“Wan’er…”

Li Muwan, completely unaware, slowly raised her arms and gently held him, allowing him to weep.

***

The night breeze carried hidden longing. In her drowsy sleep, Li Muwan faintly heard the person beside her still murmuring “Wan’er.”

The tender, lingering calls stirred her awake.

Resting on Wang Lin’s arm, she lifted her eyelids but saw that he was still asleep. Her clear eyes reflected the nearly extinguished candlelight by the bed, and drowsiness returned as she nestled closer into his embrace.

In his haze, Wang Lin held her tighter, and Li Muwan, feeling secure, fell asleep once more.

The next day, the first light of dawn filtered into the small courtyard. Wang Lin was gathering dewdrops in the yard, as he did every morning. He brewed tea with the dew, believing it nourished the body.

His silver hair cascaded before his chest, his sash fluttering in the morning breeze. Loose strands partially obscured his vision as dewdrops fell into his gourds. Two full gourds sat neatly arranged on the small table in the courtyard.

On the table, a stove boiled teathe liquid hot and steaming.

Li Muwan would always look for Wang Lin upon waking. Not finding him in the room, she would immediately search the courtyard, her pale feet padding across the wooden floorboards.

Her slender frame was clad only in thin white sleepwear, her unbound hair flowing down her back. Her pristine, elegant demeanor evoked an instinct to protect.

Unable to speak, she stood quietly under the eaves, watching Wang Lin’s movementsthough her attention would occasionally be stolen by sparrows in the yard.

Wang Lin looked up, gourd in hand. The morning sun caught in his silver hair, the young man radiant as moonlight on pine. Noticing the figure under the eaves, he felt the cool dawn breeze brush against her clothes.

Wang Lin put away the gourd and strode toward her. She wore no outer robe, nor shoes or socks.

“Why come out without shoes or socks?” Wang Lin scooped her up horizontally and carried her back to the bedroom. “It’s cold outsideyou’ll catch a chill.”

The low bed creaked softly as Li Muwan sat primly on the edge, swinging her feet. Wang Lin took a cloth and carefully wiped them clean.

“If you catch a chill, you’ll need medicine. Otherwise you’ll feel awful and make a fuss again.” He meticulously fetched socks and put them on her.

“The medicine is bitter, and you don’t like it anyway.” He then selected a pair of apricot-colored embroidered shoes and slipped them onto her feet.

Her clothes hung on the rackwaistband, underskirt, and outer robeall laid out beside the bed. He dressed her piece by piece in orderly fashion.

Wang Lin nodded in satisfaction. “My Wan’er is naturally beautifuleverything looks good on you.”

Yet gazing at the wardrobe full of her clothes, he recalled he hadn’t bought her new ones in quite some time. Whenever Li Muwan wore new clothes, she would happily sit at the dressing table, admiring herself repeatedly in the bronze mirror.

Wang Lin couldn’t help but smileeven with an incomplete soul and fragmented awareness, she still loved beauty.

Kneeling before her, his voice was exceedingly tender. “Wan’er, let me do your hair.”

Li Muwan couldn’t manage daily tasks like dressing or grooming. These days, everything was handled by Wang Lineven washing and bathing required his personal attention.

Li Muwan knew that once dressed, it was time to sit at the dressing table for hairstyling. Her hair was smooth, and though Wang Lin initially had no skill in styling, through repeated practice he had grown proficient.

He had learned various hairstyles and gained some insight into matching hairpins and accessories. If pleased with the result, she would smile delightedly while gazing at her reflection; if dissatisfied, she’d pout, widen her eyes, and look at Wang Lin with innocent grievance.

Wang Lin could always decipher her meaning, then remove and replace the accessories accordingly.

“This wooden hairpin I carved for youyou asked for another before. Let’s use this one today.”

Li Muwan showed no reaction. He gathered strands of her hair, twisted them into a small bun, and secured it with the hairpin.

After finishing her hair, he asked, “Wan’er, shall we apply makeup today?”

Li Muwan had already reached for the cosmetic box and handed Wang Lin a stone pencil. A smile escaped his lips as he said adoringly, “Our Wan’er truly loves beauty.”

He skillfully outlined her eyebrows and applied a light layer of rouge. Satisfied, Li Muwan beamed at her reflection in the mirror.

Her smile struck his heart. Wang Lin embraced her, planting a gentle kiss on her dark hair.

Li Muwan’s stomach rumbled softly. Wang Lin patted her flat abdomen. “Hungry?”

The tea on the outdoor stove had finished brewing, and the congee simmered in the kitchen was kept warm in the pot.

Li Muwan sat at the small table in the courtyard, waiting for Wang Lin to bring out the food.

A bowl of hot congee was placed on the table. Wang Lin went to pour a cup of tea, and as Li Muwan caught the aroma, she couldn’t resist leaning in to taste the hot congee. The rim of the bowl was scalding; the moment her lips touched it, she jerked back from the heat, patting her stung lips with tears welling in her eyes, on the verge of crying but holding back.

The sudden commotion caught Wang Lin’s attention as he was focused on pouring the tea. He turned around hastily, set down the teacup, and immediately understood she had been burned.

Overflowing with tenderness, he gently touched his fingertips to Li Muwan’s lips, carefully examining them: “Did it burn you?”

Her reddened eyes conveyed her pain.

“It’s my fault, I should have been watching you.” Wang Lin’s heart ached terribly. The burned area on her lips was still red, and the tea was still hotthere was nothing at hand to cool it down.

Thinking this, his fingertips resting on her lips moved slightly, applying a soft pressure as he lifted her chin and pressed his lips to the burned spot. Once there, he couldn’t help but linger, gently soothing the area. Li Muwan didn’t understand what he was doing.

Wide-eyed, she gazed blankly into his eyes, showing no resistance. She trusted Wang Lin completely, knowing he would never harm her. Whatever he did, she neither knew how to refuse nor how to respond.

The soft, comforting contact imprinted the sensation in her memoryit was pleasant and gentle.

After a long moment, Wang Lin pulled back, his voice low and tender: “Does it still hurt?”

Li Muwan blinked slowly. Wang Lin chuckled softly; she wouldn’t answer.

“Wan’er must be very hungry,” he scooped a spoonful, blew on it by his mouth, then tasted it himself to check the temperature. Only when it was no longer hot did he offer it to her: “Wan’er, it’s not hot anymore.”

Still remembering the pain, Li Muwan hesitated to approach. Seeing her uncertainty, Wang Lin took a small sip from the spoon himself. “Not hot.”

Li Muwan seemed to grasp it vaguely. Cautiously, she leaned forward, opening her mouth slightly. The millet congee entered her mouthit was warm. Only then did she relax and swallow it boldly.

Seeing Wang Lin scoop another spoonful and blow on it to cool, she grew impatient. As soon as he was ready, she became more proactive than before, opening her mouth wide to wait for him to feed her.

Wang Lin found it endearing and fed her the spoonful.

Li Muwan smiled with narrowed eyes, savoring the taste as she quietly waited for the next bite.

Wang Lin fed her two or three more spoonfuls in succession, but when he offered another, Li Muwan pushed his wrist away.

“Had enough?” There was still half a bowl leftusually, even with her small appetite, she could finish a full bowl, and she had clearly been hungry earlier.

Li Muwan shook her head and pushed the spoon toward his lips.

“Wan’er wants me to eat too?”

Li Muwan didn’t understand. Wang Lin pretended to take a bite, and she nodded happily.

“Wan’er eats first.” Wang Lin fed her the rest. He himself didn’t feel hunger, but living in seclusion with her in the mortal world, he followed all its routinesthree daily meals of grain, never missing one.

The mortal life he wanted Li Muwan to experience, he would fully share and savor with her.