Spring, the fourth year of the Republic.
Night fell and the city lights came on. Meixiang House blazed with light and hummed with conversation. Situated in a bustling commercial district, it drew all sorts of people with its distinctive charm.
In a corner of Meixiang House, a woman dressed in a snow-white qipao sat behind a light gauze curtain. She held a pipa that hid half her face, revealing only her clear, limpid eyes.
Her fingers plucked the strings, and the melody of High Mountains and Flowing Water drifted through the room, clear as a spring and lilting as a mountain breeze.
Nan Xiangtan was a master of the pipa. As a gentle breeze lifted the gauze, her untainted grace dazzled everyone at once, and the guests turned to look.
She was Nan Xiangtan, a woman forced by her mother’s grave illness to come here to play the pipa for money, selling her art but not her body.
Just then, a man in a fine suit, with an air of extraordinary distinction, slowly entered Meixiang House.
He was Pei Xuyan, a renowned business magnate and an aristocrat with an exquisite eye for beauty.
Pei Xuyan’s gaze swept across the crowd before finally settling on Nan Xiangtan.
Her snow-white figure was like a white lotus blooming alone in a sullied world, and Pei Xuyan fell for her in an instant.
Fate’s twists and turns, her infatuation and composure, brought the two of them together.
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