"I seem to have seen little bridges and flowing rivers..." a youth full of literary grace hesitated, but finally spoke up, "Just now, in Young Master Ming's music, I seemed to have seen little bridges and flowing rivers!"
As soon as he spoke, someone exclaimed, "No, that's not right, how could it be little bridges and flowing rivers? It should be vast deserts with rolling sands!"
"You two are both wrong. What I heard was spring flowers blooming, the whispers of lovers, endless vitality."
At the words of these few, the crowd outside the small pavilion looked at Zheng Ming with even stranger gazes because they felt that Zheng Ming might truly understand how to play the instrument, and that his understanding might be much greater than theirs.
Yao Leqingshu closed his eyes. He had not discerned anything, but the words of the three others filled him with hope.
