The night was cool with a sense of excitement surrounding the four cultivators walking to the back hills, where the vaults were.
In the dark, the stars seemed brighter, scattered across the midnight blue velvet sky.
They passed by some disciples hurrying to get inside before curfew at nine.
It was a simple thing to retrieve the box. XiChen went inside his own personal chamber and came out minutes later, suggesting that he had kept it within easy reach.
"Anything of value, I transferred here." He explains as he closes the door.
It is the only thing which makes Lan Zhan feel better about all of this. He's still feeling on edge about everything, and even if he's the one to start this business, he feels reassured that XiChen would also have wanted to know about the great mystery surrounding their mother.
When they pause outside the Hanshi, XiChen takes one look at Lan Zhan and knows.
"It seems fitting that we should look at it in the Jingshi." He says, changing his mind, and carries on walking.
Once inside, the four cultivators sit around the small table and XiChen unwraps the soft white silk brocade covering this last gift from his mother.
The silk is now an aged white, the colour of buttermilk.
With infinite care, XiChen peels back the layers to reveal a dark cherry wood box engraved with lacquered cherry blossoms.
It smells of mothballs and sandalwood.
Lan Zhan wants to close his eyes and remember that magical time. He recalls with fondness his own excited not-running up to the doors of the Jingshi, eagerly waiting with impatience for his Muqin to open them, and quickly fold him into her warm embrace.
Muqin was soft.
Muqin was strong.
Muqin meant safety.
This scent of mothballs and sandalwood takes him straight back there.
But he doesn't want to miss a second of this.
"Lan Zhan." Wei Ying is tugging on his sleeve. "Do you want to take out the comb?" He whispered.
Lan Zhan applies pressure on the secret knot and the drawer opens. He takes out the comb, and opens the handkerchief so it can be seen.
XiChen opens the music box.
It is of a traditional style.
There is a cylinder on one side and a handle that XiChen takes out of the narrow gap inside, and fixes it to the outside of the box, thus being able to actually wind it.
The cylinder has tiny metal knobs on it and some parts are rusted but there's no sound.
"May I have some oil?" XiChen asks.
Lan Zhan hands him a jar. This is the one he uses for his guquin, and there is the pleasant aroma of sandalwood that it has been perfumed with.
XiChen blows into the box to dislodge any loose dust and then uses a calligraphy brush to apply the oil, focusing on the moving parts and the places that are hard to reach.
"May I see the comb, please?" Wei Ying asks.
He's vibrating with excitement at the thought of a new challenge.
Lan Zhan passed it to him.
The ivory is cool to the touch, the silver parts glinting by the light of the candles on the table.
While XiChen played around, tinkering with the inside of the box, Wei Ying examined the comb properly.
He spends a good ten minutes, turning it over and over.
Lan Zhan watches his talented fingers running over the surface of the comb, as if he is seeing it with his fingers.
"Lan Zhan, please can you hold out your hand?" He says, whispering because he doesn't want to disturb whatever XiChen is doing.
Lan Zhan does what he's told.
"Now, if you close your eyes, what can you feel?" Wei Ying asks him, after placing the comb in the centre of his palm.
"It is cool. And heavy on one side." Lan Zhan says.
"Right? I thought that was because the teeth have gaps in them...and then, look!" Wei Ying presses a point on the back of the comb, and then he slides away the silver teeth, the pointy part that now looks like a cover.
Underneath, the teeth are now level.
"This is no ordinary comb," he says, his little pink tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth. "See how the width of each prong is different? Why would a comb look like this? What could be the reason? Unless it was not supposed to be used as a comb for hair originally?"
Lan Zhan shoots him a quick glance, and then they both look at the music box.
"There's a reason why both of you, both brothers were given two parts, effectively splitting it up." Wei Ying continues. "The music box isn't broken. It won't work because there's a piece missing," he finishes triumphantly, as Lan Zhan slides the comb into place.
There are gasps from the other two.
XiChen has tears in his eyes. He looks around at the others, feeling so proud of them.
"Shall we?" He takes Lan Zhan's hand and puts it on the handle, covering it with his.
And then they both turn it.
This time, a clear tune rings out. It is an old folk song, but as the cylinder turns, all of their eyes are glued to the inside of the box.
A piece of parchment unrolls with every turn and finally, XiChen is able to take it out fully.
Jiang Cheng carefully lifts the music box and closes the lid, putting it on the floor next to him.
XiChen is already smoothing out the document on the table. They use miscellaneous items to hold the corners down.
Lan Zhan grabs Wei Ying to sit in his lap, just so he can read it, too.
"Well, this is it. We are about to find out the secret Muqin took with her to her death. And possibly, father, too." XiChen says quietly.
His fingers tremble as he begins to read.
YOU ARE READING
WangXian Forever Book 9: The Flower Demon
RomanceThings have settled down for our favourite couple and they're just getting used to living in the domestic bliss that Wei Ying always dreamed of. However, there is still the question of Jiang Cheng and his mysterious curse, the JingLing that can't re...
