Master, no! - Chapter 69 Master, Bamboo Grove Pavilion in Bright Moon Garden

As I was lost in thought, I suddenly heard a "whoosh" sound. I looked up sharply and saw a dart flying through the back window, heading straight for the carved pillar above my head.
I immediately jumped up and ran to the window, but when I opened it, there was no one there. A patrol of soldiers passed by not far away, and on a whim, I gently closed the window.
He turned and walked back to the bedside, frowning as he looked at the dart. A piece of paper was tied to the iron dart. That's right, if it really was an assassin, I'd probably be dead from that dart by now.
I gently pulled out the dart and unfolded the paper. It contained only three words: "Bamboo Grove Pavilion." At first, I was puzzled by the content, but then my heart began to pound with waves of emotion, gradually calming down. This must be related to my master.
Compared to my two masters, who were skilled in both literature and martial arts, I, their disciple, am truly inadequate. My martial arts skills have never improved much, but my masters have never taken it to heart, simply comforting me by saying that for girls, practicing martial arts is merely for strengthening the body and preventing them from becoming too frail at such a young age. So, after all these years of training, apart from my relatively good physique, only my lightness skill can be considered a true inheritance from my masters. As for my literary talent, it is even more mediocre. My father once praised my masters for their brilliant writing, saying that if they could enter officialdom, they could become pillars of the nation. Compared to them, I can only barely manage to compose some sentimental poems about the passing of spring and the coming of autumn.
I still remember one day when Master Wenya was lecturing to me, he suddenly asked me which poet I admired most. I hadn't actually thought about this question, but since my master had asked, I felt that not answering would make me seem unworthy of being their disciple. So I gave a random answer, saying that I thought Wang Wei, also known as the "Poet Buddha," was the one who best suited my taste. My master fanned himself with his hand, smiled at me, and asked again, "Then, Xi'er, which of Wang Wei's poems do you think is the best?"
I panicked a little. It was just because I'd been seeing a collection of hypnotic poems by Wang Wei lately. As for which poem, I racked my brain and suddenly remembered "Bamboo Grove Hermitage," which I'd read three times the night before. It was the Dragon Boat Festival, and my master hadn't ordered me to practice. That night, I couldn't sleep at all. I saw the book on the table lying face down, and "Bamboo Grove Hermitage" was conveniently on top. I don't really like these kinds of poems; they always make me drowsy. Perfect for inducing sleep. Since it was for inducing sleep, I didn't care. I read this poem three times, and although it was only twenty characters, it helped me fall asleep smoothly.
When my master asked, I naturally and smoothly gave the name, "Master, it is 'Bamboo Grove Pavilion'."
"Oh, tell me about it?"
I was really in a bind now. Master Wenya is usually very easygoing and rarely asks probing questions, but this time his questioning has really stumped me. I looked at him and knew I couldn't make up anything more, so I could only put on a begging look, raise my eyes and look at him pitifully, while tugging at his sleeve and shaking it back and forth.
"Master, Xi'er doesn't know!"
"You silly girl!" Master tapped my forehead.
He picked up his brush and, while writing on the white paper, said, “Alone I sit in the secluded bamboo grove, playing my zither and letting out long sighs. Deep in the forest, no one knows, only the bright moon shines upon me.” The scene in Wang Wei’s poem is just like that bamboo grove in your imperial garden. When the bright moon shines, the poet plays his zither and lets out long sighs in the bamboo grove, completely at ease. This artistic conception truly deserves the elegant title of “Poet-Buddha.” Wang Wei lived a life of wealth and leisure; perhaps he only attained true enlightenment in his old age!
Having said that, he put down his pen. I leaned over to look at the white paper; with just a few strokes, he had perfectly captured the essence of the poem. In the painting was a full moon, several clumps of ink bamboo, and right beside them stood a natural stone in the bamboo grove, on which was engraved the name I had casually chosen when I first entered the mansion: Xiaoyao Cui (逍遥翠).
I clapped my hands in delight, thinking the matter was finally resolved satisfactorily. But to my surprise, my master still punished me by making me copy "Bamboo Grove Pavilion" twenty times in my room. Then he said, "Xi'er, will you be able to remember the poem clearly this time?"
I pouted and drawled, "I'll remember—"
The past events, though only a year ago, now seem like a lifetime ago. I miss my master terribly and hope they can return soon.
In the Bamboo Grove Pavilion, I went through the entire poem in my mind, and my heart gradually cleared. At that time, my master and I discussed poetry in the study, and no one else knew about it except the two of them. Moreover, given the martial arts skills of my two masters, it was highly unlikely that anyone would have overheard. Therefore, this note was either delivered by my master himself or by someone they trusted. And the intention behind it was obvious.
When the bright moon hangs high, the Imperial Garden, the bamboo grove, and the verdant greenery are a place of leisurely enjoyment.
I unfolded the sweaty paper from my palm, glanced at it a few more times, and then took it to the edge of the burning lily incense stick inside. The burning incense gradually charred the edge of the paper, then slowly spread, leaving red marks along the edge. I gently blew on the edge of the paper, patiently waiting for it to slowly ignite.
I crushed the ashes little by little and put them into the incense burner. I took off a jade hairpin from my hair and carefully turned it over to the bottom of the ashes. I stood up, smoothed out the wrinkles in my clothes, and then slowly walked to the door.

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Master, no! - Chapter 69 Master, Bamboo Grove Pavilion in Bright Moon Garden

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