The autumn wind blew high, and dusk dyed everything in its colors.
Inside the courtyard pavilion, although not everyone from the Sect had arrived, they had managed a small gathering.
Cui Hao wore an exceptionally formal, sumptuous white robe, a rare look of utter seriousness on his face. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the courtyard with a guzheng before him, his fingers moving with practiced grace as the notes rose in layers, their arrangement beautifully varied.
Lin Luoyu held her teacup, repeatedly casting suspicious looks at Cui Hao, who really did have some skill-had someone swapped out their Fifth Junior Brother?
Many things described as refined actually had a barrier to appreciation.
For instance, wild calligraphy, unfathomable paintings, and dances with somewhat bizarre movements.
Without much in-depth study, one's first impression would generally be-what on earth was this? Was this thing normal?
Music, however, was somewhat more subjective. It was no exaggeration to say that good music could appeal to refined and common tastes alike.
With a deeper understanding of music, one could hear those little surprises tucked into the details.
Lin Luoyu had originally come from the Confucian School. Although Li Junzi had lacked the means to give her music lessons, she still possessed the discernment she ought to have.
At least Li Junzi genuinely knew how to play, and she would teach Lin Luoyu in her spare time.
Having studied it herself, Lin Luoyu understood just how impressive Cui Hao's playing was.
The autumn wind was bleak and killing, and so was the guzheng beneath Cui Hao's hands.
The piece was not especially long, and Lin Luoyu quietly listened to it all.
Cui Hao lifted his hand, a lingering note vibrating through the strings before they stilled and the sound settled.
Lin Luoyu lightly pressed her