Chapter 178: Boating On Taihu Lake

Chapter 178: Boating on Lake Tai

“So this is Lake Tai…”

The small black-awning boat drifted lazily, aimlessly floating across the lake. Zhao Changhe lay on the bow, basking in the sunlight, not bothered by the heat.

The lake breeze came in gusts, bringing a touch of coolness instead.

Or perhaps it was truly a case of a calm heart bringing coolness?

Gazing at the endless expanse of lake water, the clear surface revealing fish swimming beneath, other boats dotted the distance, and the wind carried melodious fishing songs that were soothing to the ear.

For a man from the north who had never seen the sea, this felt like the sea—yet it should be calmer, not as vast and tumultuous as he imagined the sea to be, nor as rushing and relentless as the rivers he had seen, stretching a thousand miles. Instead, it was more graceful, tranquil, and gentle.

Just like Tang Wanzhuang herself.

As if she embodied all the beauty of the world, one glance and you saw Jiangnan.

People said they wanted to compare West Lake to Xishi, and it seemed fitting for Tang Wanzhuang as well—she looked beautiful in both light and heavy makeup.

She sat inside the cabin, leisurely playing the zither, strumming a tune Zhao Changhe had never heard before.

It was the kind of music that, in the modern world, would feel slow, dull, and unappreciable—but here, at this moment, in this scene, it rippled through his heart like water waves, brushed across his face like the gentle lake breeze, soft and tender, leaving him with no desire to stir any thought, content to be drunk on the clear wind and bright lake.

All those clashing blades and flashing shadows, those moments between life and death, the world, the chaotic times—they all felt distant, as if in another world.

Zhao Changhe pulled out his old wine gourd, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp.

Yue Hongling was the Jianghu of his dreams—wasn’t this the same?

What is it to roam the Jianghu with a sword and wine, a slender waist light in the palm? Actually, this was it.

Except that slender waist didn’t belong to him—but rounding up, let’s pretend it did for now.

Tang Wanzhuang’s beautiful eyes fell on the boat’s bow outside the cabin, watching Zhao Changhe lying there leisurely drinking. There was a hint of reproach in her gaze.

I thought you were going to play for me to listen, but in the end, I’m playing for you again, aren’t I? You’re lying there drinking so carefree, as if you’d hired the girl from the back courtyard bamboo house at the Ten Thousand Flowers Pavilion in Jianhu City.

Tang Wanzhuang found it a bit amusing—she felt that Zhao Changhe’s attitude toward her really was somewhat like that… so casual.

Earlier, he said every word had to be turned over in his mind several times before speaking, but now that they were familiar, it was like this. This guy really had no taboos.

“Hey!” she finally couldn’t help but call out: “Did you bring me here to rest, or to make me your zither player to accompany the scenery?”

From outside the cabin came Zhao Changhe’s voice, indistinct in the lake breeze: “Didn’t you say you’d live for me? So today, isn’t it just serving me?”

Tang Wanzhuang was both exasperated and amused: “You’re pretty good at taking an inch when given a mile. Sisi’s gone, so you have no maid now, huh?”

“No, no, you’re my master,” Zhao Changhe laughed. “But when free and at ease, why bother about who plays for whom? Are you happy now?”

Tang Wanzhuang really wanted to say “mm,” but she put on a stern face: “You play, and I’ll lie there drinking—then I’ll be happy.”

“So petty.” Zhao Changhe slowly got up and ducked into the cabin: “I haven’t learned well enough yet, Master, won’t you keep teaching me?”

For the sake of a leisurely and carefree atmosphere, they deliberately avoided using the Tang family’s large pleasure boat and used this small black-awning boat instead. When Zhao Changhe, such a big fellow, squeezed into the cabin, it immediately felt like he took up half the space.

Tang Wanzhuang helplessly moved aside a little, gesturing for Zhao Changhe to sit in front of the zither.

But as soon as he sat down, it felt incredibly cramped, their arms pressed together.

Tang Wanzhuang glanced sideways expressionlessly, while Zhao Changhe stiffly stared at the zither.

“Forget it.” Tang Wanzhuang didn’t dwell on it and began teaching: “The zither has finger techniques—it’s not just poking with one finger to make a sound. Look, like this…”

Her jade-like fingers danced over the strings, plucking, strumming, picking, and flicking, graceful and elegant. She was clearly demonstrating finger techniques, but as Zhao Changhe watched, he basically forgot everything, just staring at her hands.

They were truly beautiful.

“Alright, try this plucking technique?” Tang Wanzhuang nudged him slightly with her shoulder, a hint of expectation in her voice.

Zhao Changhe hesitated for a long time, then lowered his head: “Didn’t learn it. Demonstrate again.”

Tang Wanzhuang was puzzled: “This morning, you learned such a complex technique, full of sword intent, countless variations, and infinite follow-ups, and you mastered it after just a few demonstrations. This finger technique should be very simple for you, especially since you have experience with Yue Hongling’s hidden weapon techniques. Why have you become so slow?”

Zhao Changhe hung his head even lower, mumbling: “I was just looking at your hands…”

Tang Wanzhuang: “?”

Zhao Changhe: “…”

Tang Wanzhuang expressionlessly placed her hand a few inches in front of his eyes: “Look closely. If that’s not enough, look for another hour.”

Before Zhao Changhe could say anything, her hand suddenly swung and smacked him right across the face: “I’ll even let you touch it!”

“Damn…” Zhao Changhe’s face stung—not from the slap, but from sheer embarrassment.

Tang Wanzhuang stared at him sideways for a long while, then suddenly said: “Actually, if you learn this, it can evolve into a set of acupoint-seizing and grappling techniques. You’ve been training in martial arts for a short time, and your skills are all in the blade. You’re quite lacking in unarmed combat—this would be a good supplement.”

Zhao Changhe instantly perked up: “Quick, demonstrate again! I only need to see it once to learn it!”

Tang Wanzhuang was at a loss whether to laugh or cry.

But it was true—once Zhao Changhe connected this to martial arts understanding, he really did learn it in one look. He was still a bit clumsy, but his grasp of the movements was completely thorough, so simple he didn’t need a second look.

“Now I’ll teach you this string-brushing technique…”

The little boat drifted lazily, aimlessly on the lake’s heart. The male disciple and female master sat close together in the cramped cabin, a faint fragrance brushing against his nose, shoulders accidentally touching, heads close together, murmuring softly.

A passing boatman saw them and couldn’t help but break into an auntie-like smile.

What a lovely scene.

When he got home, he’d have to urge his own lazy son to find a wife—how old was he now, still messing around all day?

The sun gradually set, the lake surface shimmering with golden light. Occasionally, a fish leaped up, splashing into the water again, sending up droplets. From afar came the singing of a boatwoman, her soft Wu dialect stirring the heart, even more beautiful than the fishing songs outside Qinghe, and the killing intent had long since faded into peace.

Tang Wanzhuang leaned against the cabin’s outer frame, holding a delicate little wine flask, drinking leisurely from its spout.

The poor, suffering bear-like disciple was still inside practicing finger techniques, whether they could really turn into a set of acupoint-seizing moves was unknown—that was actually Tang Wanzhuang’s bluff.

It was supposed to be him playing, and me listening—did he really think I was a girl from the back courtyard of the Ten Thousand Flowers Pavilion?

Tang Wanzhuang was already fabricating a set of acupoint-seizing techniques in her mind, modifying her own existing techniques and blending in some zither fingerwork, planning to teach him later as a matching set.

Did he really think the Head of the Hall couldn’t lie? Anyway, that set of techniques wouldn’t be bad—maybe it would even earn a name in the Jianghu…

The fishing songs from both shores rose and fell, mostly love songs, stirring unknown feelings in Tang Wanzhuang’s heart.

In the past, she was actually a bit afraid of scenes like this, of songs like these—they could pull one’s heart away from serious matters, what they called decadent music, making people lose their ambition.

But today, it seemed fitting, except for the love song content.

“Hey.” Tang Wanzhuang took a leisurely sip of wine and called into the cabin: “You said you have songs in your heart. In this scene, why not sing one in response?”

“These girls’ songs are pretty nice, their voices are good too. I even want to tip them—why would I mess things up?”

“These soft, weak things—are they suitable for a tough guy like you? Sing a Jianghu tune, let me see what bold words the Bloodthirsty Asura has.”

“But in this scene, bold tunes don’t fit. Are you deliberately trying to pull yourself out of this decadent mood?”

Tang Wanzhuang was startled, then drank in silence.

He was too sharp.

And he understood her too well.

Strange—how could he understand her so deeply? There was hardly any connection between them.

“Forget bold tunes—do you want to hear a woman’s song?” Zhao Changhe suddenly asked.

Tang Wanzhuang came to her senses and asked in surprise, "Wasn't that the voice of a woman they were singing?"

"There are many women in the world—how could they all sing only of love and longing?" Zhao Changhe plucked a few strings, and the earlier practice melody suddenly shifted, taking on a free and unrestrained air.

Tang Wanzhuang turned back to look into the cabin, where a song she was not quite familiar with drifted out: "The wind is cold, but I won't flee; the flowers are fair, but I want none—let me drift and sway..."

Tang Wanzhuang stared blankly at the distant sunset. She had meant to say, "This is Yue Hongling's song, not mine," but as she listened, she gradually fell into a trance and no longer wished to speak.