Chapter Five: Between Four Hands

The Nightingale's strings began to resonate without touch. Four hours before midnight, the seam in the bass register opened. A sliver of black appeared. Manyi's remorse transformed into violent possession. She rushed at Xingyao. "I sealed this composition inside the piano. Only Wei'an can use it! None of you will take it from him!" The key had not fully emerged, yet desire was already awake. Shen Yan played the bass line she had hummed. As the music sounded, a memory that was not his opened before him. Twenty-one years ago, Manyi sat singing at the Nightingale while Shen Qinghe opened its body with the brass key and pushed a roll of music into the resonating chamber. Both women had blood on their hands.